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 know plenty, but it was fairly common knowledge if one did enough research. Wayne Industries wouldn't bother to come without having made the appropriate inquiries.

"No, though there are variants on themes. You see..." Lionel trailed off for a moment as he pushed the door open, and flipped on the light switch just inside the door. "I've had plenty of time to study these children's habits."

The room was filled wall to wall with a variety of screens, showing each room in varying detail. Bruce watched as Lex, Clark and Julian disappeared from three screens and showed up on three others. "So you have your eye on them all of the time. That's helpful, especially if the mental problems lend to violence."

"Society doesn't know how grateful it should be that these young people aren't among its population," Lionel intoned seriously. "My poor Alexander among them. All of them would have found their way to Arkham in time, I don't doubt." Arkham, a place for the criminally insane, and home of all sorts of physical deviations. Mutations. Hints and hints stacked together for Mr. Wayne.

"I see. A truly dire sort of occurrence," Bruce murmured quietly. "I'd be very interested in making certain donations to your research, Mr. Luthor. Saving people from places like Arkham is a worthy endeavor."

Lionel watched the screens for a moment, then turned away towards a cabinet that was also in need of a key to get into it. "I'd someday like to see these youths as successful members of society."

"Of course. Rehabilitation is an exceedingly appropriate goal. Particularly since your own son is affected."

"I have hope for Alexander. He's mostly non-aggressive, and I can trust him to watch over the other non-aggressives. If it weren't for when he so broadly loses touch with reality..." Lionel sounded a little frustrated, but it was within reason. He was a father with a twenty four year old son who was ill. It was understandable. "There are others, such as Ian, for whom there is no hope."

He pulled a disk from the topmost drawer, and moved to sit down for a moment so he could devote a screen to the scene he wanted Mr. Wayne to see.

"No hope for what particular reason?" Bruce asked, moving forward to stand close to Lionel, lifting his head to the screen Lionel directed him towards.

The scene there was somewhat shocking, a boy on a rooftop beside a pool who was splitting himself in two. It was a rather disgusting process, momentarily distracting Bruce from the background action.

"Watch," Lionel urged as he watched the splitting motion. "You see Ian down at this corner. And Tina is talking with Alexander. They're on the roof, and you can see the swimming pool in the background."

Tina talking to Alexander, no, it looked like she was screaming, and he reached to touch her shoulder. In that moment, the girl reached out and hit him, her arm stretching, changing, and when it struck Lex, it was with a force that sent him reeling back against the fence, his head scraping across barbed wire as she flung him higher up the metal.

"Good God," Bruce murmured.

"It all happened so fast." Lionel watched the scene as it unfolded, but he didn't react the way Bruce had; the scene had lost its punch. Ian, both of them, rushed Tina. Of course, the whole mess could have been absolved so tidily if Clark had been there on the roof with them, but Lionel wasn't going to play Wayne anything that would give away his high card, yet.

One of the Ians snatched Lex away from Tina despite her desperately grasping arms, and the other... The other forced her into the fence, holding her there until his twin could come and help him. In short order, they shoved her up and through the barbed wire, despite her obvious screaming. She fell, and they both turned to face one another, grinning wildly before melting into one and leaving Lex laying on the rooftop, bloody and panting.

Lionel stopped the video with a sharp tap of his fingers, right on that scene. "As you can see, some of them are beyond rehabilitation."

"Yes," Bruce agreed softly, shaking his head. "I can certainly see how this could be very dangerous, Mr. Luthor. Perhaps we could go to your office and discuss investments..."

They should have known that actually even bothering to make a list would get them in trouble with Lionel. It had been innocent, even in Lex's naturally suspicious opinion. Frivolous things that weren't the necessities that Lionel sometimes just decided to not provide, that weren't the things they really wanted to ask for. Just toys and games and novelties, phrased vaguely and giving away their limited contact with the outside.

Mr. Wayne had smiled and said that he'd bring some of the things when he came back again. He'd seemed like a nice man, even if he had been talking with Lionel. And then he'd left, and they'd watched the fishes in the aquarium with Julian until Pamela came to pick him up.

Then everything had gone to hell again, even though Lex swore that it was a freak accident that the left hand side of the list they'd given Mr. Wayne spelled, 'Please help us'.

Unfortunately for all of them, Lionel knew that freak accidents just didn't happen when it came to Clark and Lex, which explained why they were in a position remarkably similar to the one they'd been in the first night Clark remembered being awake in hell.

Definitely hell, because once Clark had learned to control his strength and stop hurting Lex by holding onto him, certain things had changed.

Things had gotten worse, and as Clark had gained subtlety, Lionel had gained the opposite, the ways to crash though Clark's abilities and make him hurt. Make it somehow his fault that he, Lionel, was hurting Lex. Make them both hurt, but make sure that Clark knew he was responsible for Lex's pain.

Lionel called it testing the limits. Lex called it a sickness worse than being a freak. Clark just wished Lionel hadn't learned how to manipulate the meteor rock so delicately, enough to make Clark weak and pliable, but conscious and aware.

All Clark wanted to do was touch Lex's face, soothe away the desperate rush of color, the sharply agonized lines that Lionel's touch brought to his face. Lex could face it in the light of day better than Clark ever could, but in those moments, there was too much hurt to face anything at all.

With the rocks in the room, the most Clark could do was give faint groans as Lionel cut into flesh never meant to bear the touch of scalpel, and pray that Lex wouldn't die from it.

Like Byron had. Even the monster under his daylight skin hadn't been able to keep it from happening.

"Your time will come, Kent. I have enough coffee in the other room to do this all night. Do you know what level of risk you've put this place at? Do you know what your foolishness has COST me?" He dug the knife in further, then just left it while he addressed Clark. It bounced and twitched with every gasp of air Lex sucked in, almost crying.

Clark didn't answer. Answering would just make things worse for Lex and for himself in the long run. He wasn't that stupid, never mind the way the man was digging things in. Christ, at that rate, he was going to kill Lex, and if he did... oh, if he did, Clark would kill him, meteor rocks or no meteor rocks, or at least he'd try.

He'd try, and if he was unlucky and Lex did die, maybe the rocks would kill him, too.

He could just hope that Lex lived. It was the only thing Clark could hope and know there was a chance in hell that it would come true. Even when Lionel reached to twist that blade, and just left it there as he walked around the table towards where Clark was strung up against the wall. "Answer me, Kent. Or I'll stick that scalpel in a few other of Alexander's places."

"You asked for a list," Clark rasped, barely able to keep his breath. "We gave you one. That's all. We asked everybody in order..." It was bullshit, and they both knew it, but Clark would stick to their story, and later on, Lex would do the same.

"And somehow spelled out 'please help us' -- what kind of IDIOT do you take me for?" Lionel reached a hand up to Clark's throat. "If you weren't such an asset, I'd snap your neck right now."

Instead, they'd be lucky if Lex's neck wasn't snapped, if he didn't bleed to death on the table. "It wasn't on purpose," Clark insisted stonily.

"A convenient accident, hmn?" Lionel slipped a hand up to Clark's hair, clutching hard enough to pull chunks out with that kryptonite circulating in Clark's veins, bubbling along. "You and Alexander are so eager to get out there into the real world. I should throw you out and let you try. You don't know how to drive a car. You don't know how to do anything, you both have G.E.D.s. You're freaks, and wrecks, and you need ME to survive even in here. Understand that, Clark?"

"Yes, sir." Yes, sir, because it was the only answer he could give. It was an answer that he sometimes feared Lex actually believed, though Clark knew better. They had G.E.D.s, at least. That would get them jobs, and there were ways to gain more learning, ways to live without Lionel. They wanted it so desperately, but Clark knew that even if Lionel let them leave, they'd just be like Desiree.

They'd just be puppet freaks on strings.

There'd always be something he'd want them to do, do for him, or else. Desiree lived a high life, but there was always that Or Else hanging over her. Even Clark knew that. It wasn't a way to live, it wasn't real freedom.

Not that they'd probably get even that. Not for another few years, at least. And Lex... probably really did believe it. That was why his heart had never seemed in any escape attempts, too scared and too...

"L-leave him alone... We won't do it again, you, you can say we, I'm mad, delusional, sir, please..." Lex's voice was almost burbling with blood, and it drew Lionel's attention momentarily away from Clark.

Please.

It pissed Clark off to see Lex reduced so much, to see him suffering himself to beg with Lionel, knowing it wasn't going to get him anywhere. Lex was always willing to make that plea for others, though, if not himself.

Lionel stalked towards the table and pulled the scalpel from his son with a faint schlorp. "You are mad, Alexander," he murmured darkly, leaning to trace the razor sharp edge over highly sensitive skin. "You're completely delusional."

"Y... yes, Father." And maybe, some days, Lex believed that, too. It would have been easier to believe it all a massive hallucination, a delusion, than the reality of it. But Lex always seemed so grounded, except when Lionel was hurting him like that, hurting Clark like that.

"Yes...." It was almost a hiss as Lionel looked keenly up at Clark. "You see? He's so much smarter than you, Clark."

"Lex is brilliant." The sheer softness of that statement said too much, and Clark knew it, his head dropping towards his chest. So tired. He was so tired, and Lex had to be, too, and surely it had to end sometime soon, didn't it?

Lionel seemed pleased by that, even as he moved to stand by Lex's bent knees with obvious intent in the motion. He was already unzipping his pants, and Lex went quiet at the sound of zipper, even stopped half-crying. "Good... Now if both of you would continue being so good..."

"Somehow I have the feeling that your definition of 'good' and the one in the dictionary are light-years apart, Mr. Luthor," a voice declared behind him, almost impish in tone despite the seriousness of the scene stretched out in the room.

It was enough of a surprise that Clark managed to jerk his head up, the fuzzy sight of a man in black and green with a mask across his eyes seeming a little too ridiculous, even for a boy who'd been addicted to comic books when he was younger.

What. The. Hell.

It seemed to be Lionel's reaction, too, because he paused for a moment, dick in hand, before he looked for a weapon or a way out; but it was too late, because there was a green light coming from the intruder's hand, and it wrapped itself tightly around Lionel even when he started to protest his innocence and threaten suit.

"It's not gonna do you a whole lot of good," the Green Lantern told him cheekily. "I mean, considering the fact that we know you've kidnapped at least one kid here, and we've sort of got you on video torturing and raping these two. Add in various murders that are really way too easy to pin on you and you're screwed, Luthor."

He started to talk again, but another cord of green covered his mouth and muffled him. "Save it for the court system."

Lex sucked in a hard breath, and then jerked weakly at the bonds. Lionel had left the scalpel in his hip, while he'd begged for Clark's sake and his own, and it hurt... "Save the... speeches and get us the, the fuck out of here," Lex half-commanded, weakly imperious. Clark recognized it from when he was trying to herd the others there into doing something.

God, what if it was another trap?

But Clark wasn't going to think like that, wasn't going to shudder in fear of that green light, because the guy was apparently doing something to make the rocks harmless. Gasping, he broke the chains from the wall and flew forward, jerking the sharp object out of Lex and scrambling for something to cover the spurting hole. "It's okay," Clark promised. "It's all right, Lex."

"Yeah." Half-agreement, while the 'guy' in the suit -- anyone wearing a suit like that deserved his gender questioned on some level -- started to undo the straps that held Lex down to the table.

"Do you think you can carry him?" the man with the green asked as he looked at Clark. "I can handle the criminal."

"I can carry him forever if I have to." Clark felt like bristling, but he managed to keep himself from saying anything too vicious. Whoever the guy was, he might be just one more form of control, one more person out to use them, and maybe if Clark could just pretend they weren't a threat, he could get them loose. Get them away. Keep them unnoticed until it was too late.

"Great. We're getting everyone out of here." And with that, the jaunty man shot out a tendril of green light at Lionel's bound form, and dragged him out of the room. "We're grouping up on the roof -- c'mon."

Lex was squinting for a moment at the man, and stopped trying when Clark jostled him into his arms with ease. "Justice League," he mumbled in something like satisfaction. "I think..."

"What?" Clark honestly didn't know what a Justice League was, exactly. He wasn't really sure he even cared considering that they'd stopped what was happening to Lex, but he was definitely worried. Maybe they were just gathering on the roof to toss off mutant children or something. Or maybe they really were there to help, but if they were, then why hadn't they come before this particular night?

Why not sooner? Why, if they were helpful, had they let Lionel do it all...

Why. Why wasn't getting them anywhere safe. Would they have to leave their things? And where were they going?

"Later." Or it sounded like Lex had mumbled that, but his head turned in towards Clark's body, and since he was still bleeding it was okay.

The green-light man didn't explain anything to them as he uncertainly led them to the roof. Like he was half-lost, but he was walking fast, too, and Lionel was struggling fiercely in his bonds and humiliation. And then they started up the last set of stairs, Clark could hear almost-distant gun-fire from the guards at the base of the place. People talking. Cyrus? Cyrus, demanding an explanation from someone.

"Cyrus!" Clark called from behind the guy in his funny jump suit. "Cyrus, are you okay? Is everybody all right?"

"We're here, Clark!" Cyrus yelled back, and he sounded excited more than anything else. "Hurry, come up!"

It didn't quite matter that they were both naked, which seemed to enter his consciousness only as an afterthought once they reached the top step. There was a slight wind, and there were other people with strange clothes waiting with the people Clark recognized. A man in black clothes, and pointy ears on his masked face was standing near Cyrus, who seemed nearly jubilant.

Until he saw Clark and Lex, and his expression faltered for a minute.

"Clark, your restrictor... We're leaving, we get to leave, but -- mister, Clark can't leave unless Lionel turns his... thing off."

"It'll be okay," Clark said quickly. "If you'll just take Lex, and if you'll all just go."

"We're not leaving anybody," the pointy-eared guy said. "We have information for removing the restrictor. Manhunter." It was a sharp sort of call that honestly made Clark fucking nervous.

"Batman."

"Take care of it."

God, that made Clark fucking NERVOUS. Like he wasn't already in the middle of a total breakdown. "Uh, if it's all the same..." he began.

And when a disfigured-looking green man approached him from a shadow of the roof, Lex thought that maybe they were... rescuing freaks. Grown up freaks. People like them, maybe, and maybe that was why they were there at all.

Cyrus edged over towards them, almost cutting off the 'Manhunter'. "Hey, let me help with Lex..."

Clark was extremely reluctant to let Lex go, but he didn't want to drop him. Not in the state he was in, and maybe, considering the way the guy was eyeing him, it was a good idea. He knelt down beside Cyrus, tenderly placing him on the rooftop. "Watch over him," he made Cyrus promise before he stood again.

"I will," Cyrus promised. Cyrus was good with his promises, good like Lex was.

Then the man put a hand on Clark's chest, and in one motion pushed into his chest without any effort at all. Clark didn't even feel a tingle as he stared at the arm that was disappearing into his body. It wasn't the first time he'd seen that, but it was the first time that there hadn't been a lot of pain and blood.

It would have been fair to say that Clark was in shock, or maybe worse. It wasn't often that a man stared at an arm halfway through his chest. "This might hurt," the green, lumpy man warned, and then there was a sudden blaze of pain that made Clark yell, scream, a sound that reverberated off of the brick building and scared the younger children.

Woke Lex up with a jerk of motion, even though Cyrus has his hands on his chest trying to heal him in spots. Just in time to see Clark standing over him, and that green-skinned man standing near, pulling his hand back in a fist that was heavy with something, and covered in blood.

Almost enough to stop Lex's heart with shock.

The way that Clark was sweating was ridiculous, his own skin tinged faintly green. He crumpled down beside Lex, hands falling to support himself from falling further.

"Clark?" Cyrus asked worriedly. "Clark?"

"Okay." Even if it was a lie.

"Fuck, Clark. Did he...?" Just rip your heart out, or the 'restrictor' but Lex didn't ask that. He twisted weakly away from Cyrus, who let him, and slid arms around Clark, over his shoulders and under his chest. It didn't matter that they weren't dressed, because they were both bloody. And Clark had just had a hand stuck into him.

"I should have thought to bring extra clothes," one of the costumed people murmured. A woman, with a rather deep, firm voice. "There should be blankets on the helicopter when it lands."

"Well, at least they're covered in blood," a helpful voice announced. "I mean, it sort of keeps the Amazon sensibilities from going into hyperdrive, yeah?"

Clark wasn't sure which one had the smart mouth, but it just made him cranky. "Hey, Cyrus..."

"Here, there are swim trunks around here someplace, Clark..."

"Where are we going?" one of the Ians asked, a pointed sort of question.

"With us," the man in black with the pointy ears declared.

Lex hung onto Clark for a minute, needing that suppose as much as he needed to try and help Clark somehow. The cement was starting to get almost comfortable. "Where, Mr. Wayne?" Lex asked, head twisted a little to try and look up at him.

The entire rooftop went silent at that, but Clark shook his head. "Mr. Wayne's not here," he lied. He and Lex were probably the only ones who'd seen the man, so maybe he could cover it up and they wouldn't kill them or anything.

"We'll be splitting all of you up. Each to a different household. We have... volunteers... who'll be taking you."

That set up a wild clamor, none of the children interested in being broken apart, but Clark's answer was the firmest. "I'm not leaving Lex." Or Cyrus, he wanted to say, but Cyrus would be safe. He knew it.

Lex sagged a little against Clark, and mumbled. "Sorry, I thought I heard... I just want to go to sleep, Clark..." It would help get him out of it, that playact of pitiful delusion; the only truth Clark knew was in it was that Lex was tired. Had to be, after Lionel...

"We'll discuss it on the helicopter," Clark was told almost grimly. "We need to make sure that you're all... all right, first." Make sure? It was obvious that they weren't. Maybe it was an excuse for poking and prodding.

"Here, boys," the woman intoned as she laid something blanket-like -- probably one of their silly capes -- over Clark. "You need to get up, so the chopper will have room to land."

So it wouldn't land in the pool, Clark reckoned, shimmying into the swim trunks that Cyrus offered and then wrapping Lex carefully in the cape. It would keep him warm and safe, and that was important with Lex. If he could be kept warm, he'd heal faster, and Clark wanted that desperately.

The woman -- who looked like she was wearing a swimsuit, and a lot of jewelry -- crowded them along once Lex was up and standing, and made sure they were all standing in a little clot over by the guy with the pointed ears.

It was hard to tell if he was glaring at them, or looking sadly at them all; but Lex was right, it was obviously Mr. Wayne. Had he understood their note? Maybe it had been worth being hurt...

"Hey, Clark -- look up," Lex whispered when the first strange noise of blades cutting through air started to near them. "Sky's clear."

Clear and full of stars, full of home. Cut by blades here and there, sure, the copter coming closer, but still beautiful and brilliant. "I'll show them to you from home, Lex," Clark promised him quietly. "I'll show them to you from Smallville."

"I wish Byron was here." Lex sounded a little heartbroken to mention him, and he leaned into Clark to keep warm, that cape pulled close around him. They were going to be put places, with those people -- what would it be like? And what would happen to Lionel?

"Hey, what should I do with this sicko?" the black and green suited man yelled over at Bruce Wayne, as he waved at Lionel, still struggling in his light-bonds. From the corner of his eyes, Clark could see Kyla shifting out of the clot of 'people' being rescued.

"We'll take him to the sheriff's office," Wayne decided, inclining his pointy-eared head towards the man.

"That won't do any good."

Clark was suddenly very sure that whatever Kyla was going to do, it was right. They had rarely heard her speak, hardly ever seen her do anything except sit and watch, and yet he was certain that she would accomplish whatever was on her mind. Certain that she was as much of a freak as any of them, and that silence meant she was dangerous.

"Kyla" -- and how the fuck did Wayne know her name? He hadn't been introduced to her -- "don't do anything that your grandfather wouldn't approve of."

"Don't worry. He would approve," she said, and then there wasn't Kyla, only a white wolf, and blood everywhere, covering her muzzle. She moved so fast that only Clark could have kept up with her by sight, and he hadn't been prepared for her move.

"Holy SHIT!"

There were other outcries, but the man with the green light seemed to drop it from around Lionel by accident. Lionel was shaken about for a moment by the wolf, growls of noise leaving her as she went beyond making sure he was dead. Long strings of reddish brown curls obscured his face, and for a moment, Clark was sure that she'd chewed on his face, too.

Lex's smile was tentative, but threatening to creak its way across his face from ear to ear. Rusty laughter sounded somewhere behind them, and before Clark knew it, almost all of them were laughing. Maybe it was joy, maybe it was hysterics, maybe it was just because of all the things the man had done to them. Nobody could say, and Clark pulled Lex closer and pressed his face behind Lex's ear.

"He's gone," Clark whispered there, delighted even as the helicopter landed on the roof, too close to them for Lex to hear. "He's gone!"

Lex didn't have to hear to feel Clark's delight; he was almost breathless with laughter as he looked at Lionel's limp body, and Kyla as she paced away, licking at her own muzzle. Their 'rescuers' didn't know what to do, had probably thought they were all harmless; that idea was worth breaking to see Lionel's body laying on the ground near the pool. "We're free..."

Someone was getting out of the helicopter, a man who looked like Robin Hood to Clark's eyes even though he was securing the door open and waving them towards it.

"Get in the chopper," Wayne yelled at them all so he'd be heard. "We're leaving here!"

Leaving and they'd probably get blamed for the bastard's death, but Clark didn't care. He didn't care, and he was so fucking happy that he realized his feet weren't planted on earth, or rooftop, or anything else, and he yelped, clutching onto Lex. He'd never been happy like that before, and it was just incredible.

Clutching onto Lex didn't do anything to keep his feet on the ground, because he was strong. Lex just went up a little with him, his laughter growing as he slid his arms around Clark's shoulders, forgetting to be careful so much with the cape.

"Come down," the Manhunter insisted, floating or flying up to bring himself even with them both. "We will be travelling far from here."

Come down. Clark didn't even know if he could, but he laid his head on Lex's shoulder and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. Free, but it might take a little more work to be truly out of anyone's control, and that thought was enough to make them drop back down, slowly but surely.

"Together," Clark promised Lex over the sound of the copter. "We'll be together, no matter what they say."

"Let's go!" Wayne yelled. His funny stiff ears made Clark want to giggle. How could he fool anyone with that stupid costume -- distraction through absurdity?

But then Clark realized that everyone else, even the kids from the other wing, were already loaded into the helicopter, buckled in and secured for their safety. Lex pulled at Clark, but not away from Clark once they were grounded again, walking carelessly past his father's body and the still half-stunned 'rescuers'.

Robin Hood seemed pretty okay with what was going on; he offered them both a hand getting into the helicopter.

"Thanks," Clark told him, not letting go of Lex entirely even then. He couldn't. He wouldn't. Lex was everything he had left, and when they settled into seats, they were side by side, the other children leaving them space together.

They were used to Clark and Lex, after all. It had been years, and it wasn't something that was even acknowledged any longer. Lex leaned into Clark, smiling to himself when Kyla, back to her 'natural' form with blood still on her face and hands, was herded into the helicopter by Wayne. Wayne closed the door behind him once the Robin Hood guy got in and moved up to the front again.

"We're heading to our headquarters," he instructed them, "Where we'll send you off with the volunteers who have agreed to help reintegrate you into society. "

"That's great, but who are you people?" Cyrus demanded from where he sat near Clark's other side.

"Justice League," Lex reiterated with sleepy smugness, just as he'd told Clark.

"Look, that means absolutely dick to most of us," Ian snapped. "They look like a bunch of total kooks who've read too many comic books, Luthor."

"They probably are a bunch of total kooks who've read too many comic books, but better crazy comic obsessed nuts than Lionel Luthor," Clark announced, eyes roving over the remaining mutants. There weren't nearly as many; William and Iantine starved to death, Tina violent in her grief, Byron tortured. There were others missing, of course, more than even Clark knew, and they were all marked on Lex's heart.

He could remember how there had been many of them, and the numbers had ebbed and flowed with time. Less of them, then more, then... Less, so many less of them.

All of them seemed to agree with Clark's remark that anyone had to be better than Lionel Luthor. "They took Clark's restrictor out. That... that has to count for something," Lex suggested.

Wayne stood there, listening, and braced himself against the wall when the helicopter took off.

"Yeah, well, that's Clark. He could jump off a building and survive the impact. I'm not so sure about the rest of us," Ian snipped.

"Look," a skeletally thin girl murmured. Jodie, she was Jodie. Clark had gone to school with her, except that she'd been plump and pretty then. "No matter what, it can't be that bad. I'd rather starve to death with these people than with HIM."

"If you want to stay there with my father's corpse, Ian, I'll find a way to get that door open and push you out right now," Lex intoned darkly as he lifted his head from Clark's shoulder. "Stop complaining."

"I'm not complaining, I just think we're all crazy to assume that just 'cause somebody's saving us from HIM, they're any better!" Ian burst out.

"If they're not, we've got more chance of defending ourselves against them, I'd guess," Clark said just softly enough for Lex to hear, eyeing Bruce Wayne and his funky ears.

"Batman. We're almost to Metropolis."

So obviously their little prison had been closer to the city than any of them had really thought. The illusion of time and distance was probably to keep them from seriously attempting to leave. Lex knew how far it was or wasn't, though. He'd escaped that once, after all.

"Thank you, Green Arrow." Batman straightened a little, looking at all of them. "We're almost to our target location, and will see that any medical issues are tended to there."

Medical issues. Ha. It was better if they didn't, and no matter what Bruce Wayne called himself, Clark wasn't fooled in the least. "If it's all the same most of us don't want our medical issues tended to much of anywhere," he announced firmly, glancing over at Jodie. "Except her. And we all want to watch you when you do." Various nods backed up that statement.

"I can honor well-founded paranoia," 'Batman' told them as he moved past them to say something to 'Green Arrow'.

"I remember reading about these people that time I escaped," Lex whispered when he leaned to Clark. "They're just like the comic books. Like Warrior Angel, Clark..."

"Crackpot," Ian muttered bitterly.

"Shut up, Ian," Clark told him with an ease that seemed to soothe the tension of the spandex-clad adults around them. "Just 'cause Lex got loose and knows stuff isn't any reason to let your drawers get stuck up your crack." Some of the younger kids giggled at that.

It wasn't much of a coincidence that everyone across the age spectrum had lived in Smallville sometime before their affliction had come upon them. Or they'd been made that way. The quiet little girl that Lionel had felt such a shine towards had been... made the way she was, as far as Clark could tell.

Ian set about ignoring Clark, and Lex just studied the others and occasionally Bruce. And the cockpit windows, because there were people flying out there. The woman who'd given him the cape. And the green light guy.

"Brace yourselves, we'll be touching down soon," the pilot called back to them almost cheerily.

"There's just something disturbing about all of that happiness," Clark decided. "Though I bet that green guy who saved us from your dad would be appropriately morbid after Kyla, uh, took care of him." She was still licking blood off of her face. The kids who hadn't known William and Iantine were disturbed, but the other kids just took it in stride. Just as well.

"I'm not sure any of them are that happy." Lex shifted the cape a little, looking at the fading wounds on his own chest. It looked like he'd been attacked by a vicious house cat more than stabbed and sliced repeatedly. "It feels like pretending. If they don't panic, we won't panic."

"Maybe somebody should have told them it takes a hell of a lot to make us panic," Clark decided, checking him out with a quick x-ray. The muscles seemed to be laying okay, and they were healing without visible tearing. Between Lex's own nature and Cyrus's help, things were mostly okay.

And they'd get better when Lex had time to sleep and get warmer than sitting close against Clark with a cape wrapped around him.

"I'd still prefer that they not panic. It would be..." Lex paused as the helicopter jolted a little, and the blades continued to whir noisily. Batman moved back towards them and opened the door. Beyond that open door was a rather somber looking building, and it seemed that they'd landed on a parking lot. "Irritating."

"Yeah," Clark agreed softly, looking out at the building. None of the others really seemed inclined to like it any more than he did, and he could tell that the older mutants were a lot more suspicious than the younger ones. They all seemed too hopeful, and maybe Clark should be glad that they could feel that way.

"Everyone out of the chopper," Batman announced, drifting out into the darkness himself.

"That's really fucking creepy," Jake sighed, air huffing faintly through his gills.

"We've seen creepier," Lex reminded as he shifted a little unsteadily to his feet. "Let's just face whatever is coming next."

"Well, that's quite an attitude to have to things," the Green Arrow declared as he moved to the door and hopped out again to help people get out of the plane. "Come along. Kyla, your grandfather is waiting for you."

"Kyla," Clark called, making the girl pause on the edge of stepping out. "Thanks," he said, holding onto Lex's elbow gently to keep him from moving too much without Clark's help.

"You're welcome, Man of Krypton," Kyla replied with a faint inclination of her head.

Man of Krypton. No one but Lex was supposed to know that, other than Lionel, and Lex didn't talk. Maybe Lionel had... maybe there were a lot of questions unanswered that weren't going to be answered that night. Like the first night at the institute had been -- all confusion and no answers that didn't make him more scared or worried.

"And down you go, Kyla," Green Arrow murmured as he helped her down. Like she was twelve. Maid Marian might have kicked the man in the balls for doing that. He didn't do it when he offered a hand to Lex, and then Clark.

If he had, Clark DEFINITELY would have kicked the man in the balls.

By the time he turned around, though, Lex had wandered away from the copter, paying close attention to each of the spandex-clad nuts around them as if it was a dream come true to see them. Maybe it was, especially for Lex. He'd been dreaming of rescue for so long that it had become some kind of impossible Heaven, his name not written in the Great Book.

Lex had been there longer. And those few extra years made a difference, just as each passing year had seemed longer and more draining than the previous one. And Lex had always loved comics; he had three of them under his bed, issues that had come out when Clark had been all of three, if that, and they'd been read and reread.

It really was a dream come true for Lex, on a lot of levels. Clark just had to hope no one broke it for him.

No.

Clark wasn't going to just hope, he wasn't even going to pray. He was going to make it true. The restrictor wasn't in him. He could be away with Lex before any of these people could even get close to them, and they could hide forever. They'd find a way, the very second it looked like somebody was going to disappoint Lex.

The chick with the wings really seemed to catch his attention, and Clark just knew that Lex would be plucking feathers out of curiosity if he had another three seconds. Which Clark couldn't give him, because Lex was reaching a hand out at the moment that Clark neared him. Lex had already guessed the identity of 'Batman', and that was enough accidental havoc for one day.

"Clark..." Lex was smiling, even as he pulled the cape more tightly around himself. "Let's go in? I was waiting for you."

"Sure," Clark agreed softly, reaching out to wrap an arm around Lex's shoulders. "We'll get you warm, and you can sleep a while." Then even the scratched welts that remained would heal, and Clark would be happy about that. Desperately so.

"Great. I think I need to rest. Would've needed it if we were just heading back to our rooms, but since he's dead..." There was an extra layer of excitement that was combining with exhaustion and hurt. It explained Lex's curiously delighted mood, even if he was a little drifty.

That was why Clark was there to walk with him into the building. There were people talking here and there, adults in costumes, and some of them eyed them with interest. Not hurtful interest, just curiosity.

"Here -- do you two want to lay down? Green Lantern told me what happened..." It was the Amazonian sort of woman again; except she had both breasts, which had never happened with an Amazon in one of Lex's books. "We're trying to find clean clothes all of you can wear until we get this sorted out."

"It's okay," Clark said. "Just so long as we have someplace to rest for now, and maybe a blanket or two. We can make due, otherwise." Blankets and Clark to keep Lex warm, and plenty of space for the little ones. "If you've got a room big enough for all of us, we'd prefer that," he said politely, "especially since Jodie going to need some medical attention pretty quick, and we all want to be there." His eyes darted over to the girl in question, who seemed to become thinner with every fragile step.

"We're... trying to rig something up," the woman said with a little uneasiness. "But we have a conference room we can put all of you in while we... try to find something sufficient."

That was acceptable for the moment, and Clark nodded his acceptance. It was obvious to most of them that Lex was the one who herded all of the children together, and Clark was the one who made decisions when he couldn't. "That'll be all right. Jodie going to need some serious fat content. If you can't get something to give her via IV, you'd better send somebody to McDonald's pretty quick so that they can buy all the Big Macs they've got made up."

"She's desiccated the occasional person," Lex said absently as Wonder Woman herded them to the conference room, then dashed off to maybe take Clark's suggestion. He stood there for a moment, watching the last of the kids enter. There were a lot of chairs, and a big long table, and a comfortable-looking floor. It looked better than the metal beds with the thin rubber mattress. It was carpeted, after all, and that was a fascination in itself.

"C'mon," Clark encouraged, a hand at the small of Lex's back guiding him into the room before him. "Let's find a good spot, and you can rest. I'll stay up and watch out for the rest."

Over in the corner looked as good as anywhere to be, because Lex could lean into it and use his borrowed cape as a blanket momentarily. "Make sure Jodie is okay. Cyrus can't bring people back to life..."

"I promise," Clark soothed. More than anybody else, Clark didn't want Jodie to kill somebody. She had enough on her conscience with the horror of Pete's death, and knowing that had nearly killed Clark. "Hey, Cyrus? Come over and keep Lex warm while I check on everybody?"

"Sure," the other boy answered, nodding to him. "I think they're going to be okay to us, Clark," he suggested as he got closer, both of them momentarily following Lex.

"I hope so," Clark agreed.

"Lex thinks so," Cyrus pointed out. They had to hope, hope against all of the other things that had happened to them. "I saw Robin Hood back there getting blankets out of a closet. Nice blankets that're like... this thick." And he held his fingers half an inch or so apart.

"That might be worth doing anything for," Clark agreed dryly. "Here. I'll be back later." One last touch of Lex's arm, and he parted from the two, heading through the chattering group of kids. There weren't nearly as many as there should be, and most of them seemed to be boys. It was kind of weird, but it wasn't anything Clark hadn't considered before.

Maybe it was that boys were scientifically more likely to be mutated. Or maybe they just got into whatever made it possible more. Or... Or Lionel just preferred boys. He and Lex knew that well enough, didn't they?

He could see Kyla out in the hallway, standing with an older looking man who was half-hugging her. He wanted to stop and ask her about that, ask her what she knew about him and about Krypton, but for now, he had a few other tasks.

"Hey! Bat guy!" he called, seeing the dark ear-tufted Wayne skulking in the shadows. "I need something really unhealthy. Chocolate and chips if you have them. Fast."

"I found lard from the kitchen!" Wonder Woman declared as she rushed past them with a big bucket. The sort of things that Lionel kept food in down in the kitchens because there were a lot of people to feed and it was easier to buy in bulk.

"Diana will take care of short-term." Wayne half-glanced past Clark. "There should be a way to reverse her condition."

"There should be a lot of things, but sometimes it's harder than it looks," Clark said simply. "That won't hold her for long, either. I'd better get back to the others. Lex isn't up to looking out for anybody right now."

"Then we'll talk later." Which sounded ominous, but Wayne moved away to skulk into other shadows, passing by the Robin Hood guy. He'd taken off his stupid little face mask and was smiling as he came into the rooms with a stack of blankets.

That guy smiled too much, Clark decided, shaking his head as he followed behind the Robin Hood look-alike and slipped back into the conference room or whatever it was. Jodie was in one corner sucking down lard like it was ice cream, but she was filling out some, so maybe she'd be okay for a few hours once she was done. Ian was in another, wrapped around himself, all four arms holding tight, and a group of the younger kids huddled together in the third.

The last held Lex and Cyrus, and that was where Clark was going.

It was also reason enough for him to snitch one of the blankets as he walked by. One would be plenty; the carpet was soft and the blanket was big enough for him and Lex and Cyrus, anyway, so they'd just settle under the one and get some sleep. Maybe Lex could use that cape thing for a pillow, and that would be okay, too.

It didn't bother Cyrus that Clark was walking around in his tiny Speedo, or that Lex was naked. They'd been there in the institution for just too long for it to matter. Cyrus gave Clark a hopeful smile as Clark came over with the blanket, and reached to help him straighten it over them. "You know what time it is, Clark?"

"Sorry," Clark admitted. "I haven't got the faintest idea." It had been a long time since he'd last seen a clock, and time always seemed to stretch out endlessly when Lionel was working somebody over. It could have been an hour or a day or any amount of time in between. "But I got a blanket, and Lex can use that cape thing for a pillow or something. We can get some rest. I'll keep awake enough to watch out for all of us."

"Two am," Cyrus told him as he pointed to the digital clock that was on the far wall. "Why don't you sleep, Clark? I'll wake you up if something is going on," Cyrus promised as Lex shifted a little drowsily and tugged at his cape-covering despite the suggestion to use it as a pillow.

"You're not goin' anywhere, are you, Clark?"

"No," Clark promised easily, laying down beside Lex. "I'm not going anywhere. Here." He slid an arm across so that Lex could rest his head on it. It wasn't like he'd lose circulation. They'd long since learned that. "I guess it'll be okay if you're going to be up a while longer, Cyrus. Just... wake me if you feel like you're falling asleep, okay?"

"I will," Cyrus promised. It was hard to tell if he'd keep it, but Clark just had to trust that he would. Lex looked comfortable, relaxing easily against Clark's body and his arm-cum-pillow. The carpet was soft under them, and the blanket was more than large enough for all three of them, and comfortably warm.

Sleep was easier in coming than it should have been.

"Okay. What the FUCK do we do with them now?"

It was a legitimate question, even if the Flash had put it a little more coarsely than Batman would have. "They're dangerous," he said darkly. "Until we find a way to reverse the harmful mutations or control the ones who have a tendency to kill other people, we'll have to keep them under observation. Some of them are too old to just let loose."

"And the rest are too young to let loose," Diana pointed out from the chair she'd claimed as her own in that room, It wasn't as if they had the conference room to sit in while they discussed it. "We've already promised the authorities that we'll make sure they're taken care of. With Luthor dead..."

"Just the one Luthor dead, Diana," Green Arrow reminded grimly. "There's two of them left."

"And I definitely want to keep an eye on them," Batman agreed, equally bleak. "That kind of sadism's the sort of trait that breeds true."

"You've got to be kidding!" The Green Lantern stood up and raked a hand through black hair. "The one kid's only twelve, and the one we've got in the conference room was bleeding from more unnatural holes tonight than I've ever seen anybody live through. He's been there twelve years, and he looked at us like we were some sort of gods come down from heaven to save them and make them safe. You've heard how many of those kids died in there, Batman. You see how many of 'em are left, and how most of 'em don't want to get close to one another. And you think any of them are going to be capable of that kind of pure cruelty?"

"It could very well be the only thing that they know," Green Arrow reminded. "I've seen the Luthors in real life, Kyle -- I have no idea what sort of thoughts their father put in their head, into the heads of all of those kids, but they can't just be dropped into reality. I want to keep an eye on them just as much for their safety as anyone else's."

"There are those in their number who are suited for specific environs," Aquaman suggested. "Why don't we place them with those familiar with those environs? Just as Kyla returns with her Grandfather to her people. There are places where they can be watched, and belong."

"That might be a start," Flash said, eyes narrowing in thought. "Guess we'll have to make some educated guesses about the handful of light-sensitive kids. Was it just me, or did one of 'em have snake-eyes?"

Kyle was still ruffling fingers through his hair as if it helped him think. "It's a miracle they don't all have them. Hell, it's a miracle any of them are half sane. I'm telling you, what I saw was... I can't believe anybody allowed that man to breed."

"It happens," Bruce snorted. "What should we do with the Kryptonian? 'Clark'?"

"Tread carefully," Diana snorted back. "I'll take the girls. My people will be more than happy to help them through any issues they might have gotten from Luthor."

J'onn spoke up seriously. "I suspect that it was not the females who developed true 'issues' from our lately departed molester of children."

"Definitely not the girls," Kyle agreed. "I got the feeling he was all up into the boys."

"I have to agree with you," Wayne sighed as he shifted where he sat. "I watched him introduce me to Clark and Alexander. I couldn't tell who was wincing more when he touched them."

"We should deal with all of this later and just figure out how we're going to take care of them," Flash declared in irritation. "Get out your dossiers on them, Batman, and let's get going on this."

"We'll have them divided amongst us by morning," Wonder Woman decided. "Then we can get them some real clothes and get them real beds. With any hope, appropriate medical attention and prayers will help the older girl."

There was a slight murmuring of agreement from the people there, and Batman started to spread out on the table the profiles of those they'd rescued. Some were long, others were blurbs; Alexander's, Clark's, Jake's and Cyrus's came with photos; there were a few that Batman left in the folder, not having seen the children who matched those stories and descriptions in Lionel's 'current' database.

No sense in trying to help the dead settle into a new home. "Look at them and decide who you can handle."

Quiet reigned amongst them for several long moments, a great deal of thought being placed into the matter. Aquaman was the first to speak up, declaring, "I will take the one called Jake. Also, the dark-afflicted boy, the snake-eyed blond. He seems to have certain water-for-air capabilities that might make him best placed in my care."

"Good." It let Batman scratch them off of his mental checklist.

Diana was poring over all of their sheets, making noises to herself as she looked over them all. "I'm still taking only the girls. They're easiest for me to deal with... But I wish I could take all of them. These poor children..."

"I'll take the one who's been in a coma," Green Arrow offered. "Perhaps he'll be able to make that lightning talent of his useful, and I can help him with that."

Martian Manhunter stood, cape swirling around him. "I will offer to house the one called Cyrus."

"Who's going to take the two for one case? I mean, Ian." Since there were two two-for-one cases.

"Thank you for volunteering, Kyle. Why don't you take him?" Batman suggested as he slid the boy's short file towards the Green Lantern.

"Gee. Thanks," Green Lantern sighed, taking it with a roll of his eyes. "I'm guessing that leaves Luthor and the Kryptonian, then." And probably Julian, the youngest Luthor, too.

All eyes turned heavily towards Batman.

"They seemed resistant to the idea of leaving each other." Batman glanced at Clark's sparse write-up, and the thicker one that he'd been able to put together about Alexander. "I'll do what I can for them."

"Well, now that that's settled, I'm running out to Krispy Kreme," the Flash declared. "Who wants doughnuts?"

The blanket over them smelled clean and warm, and so did the familiar body he was curled up against. Clark could sleep heavier than he could on some days, but Lex just laid there and slitted his eyes open to take in the view of table-legs and the small clots of other familiar faces.

It felt sort of late. Maybe seven or eight, which was all he dared to sleep in to on most days. Or else Lionel would...

But Lionel wasn't there to do anything to them, not ever again. Lex took in a slow breath of air, noting that it really was easier to breathe without fear of pain. Lionel was dead, and they'd been rescued. Who the fuck knew where they were going, but they weren't in the institution.

Free.

Lex didn't know what to do with himself.

He'd never really thought he'd be free to make any choices of his own. Doing anything on his own had been a pipe dream, something not quite real. He'd escaped once, but it had only been for a very short while, and he'd been too young and too strange-looking to be anything but out of place. Everybody had thought he was on chemo, and it had just made it that much easier for Lionel to find him.

The results of that had made damned sure that Lex didn't every really try to escape again, and then... there had been Clark.

Clark was enough to hold him where Julian hadn't been, true friend instead of sometimes brother, utter comfort as the younger boy had finally accepted that they wouldn't ever be leaving the institution, no matter what Lionel said.

There was no 'getting better', unless one counted 'getting better' as being dead. Which some days could have been the same thing. The days where he'd been kept from Clark because Lionel was experimenting on alien physiology, those had been hell.

As nice as their rescuers had seemed, they weren't going to take Clark from him. He'd risk being... out there, risk not being able to handle it or make it, as long as he had Clark. Byron had been taken from him because he hadn't been able to make himself useful; he hadn't been able to take his internal healing and force it out, share it with Byron, and the other boy had... died. Clark wouldn't die because he'd failed him. The easiest way to make sure of that was not to fail Clark.

Despite the morose turn of Lex's thoughts, he was still smiling as he half-looked at Clark, head tipped a little so he didn't have to sit up properly yet.

Clark's mouth was open, his breath gusting out of it in even little puffs, a faint line of saliva gathered in one corner of his mouth. It was a good thing Lex liked Clark a lot, he decided to himself, vastly amused. After all. Being drooled on wasn't the best thing on earth by any means of the imagination.

"Hey," Cyrus whispered beside him. "You're awake."

"Yes," Lex whispered back, not quite moving his head yet. He was comfortable and happy, even if he was watching Clark drool in his sleep; after all, Clark was sleeping on his back like that because Lex was using him as a pillow. "Everything still okay? They didn't lock the doors in the night on us?"

"Nuh-uh," Cyrus told him with a sleepy little smile. "They kept coming in to check on us. They even brought a lot of the younger kids pillows, but I told them you were okay." He nodded towards Clark's arm. "I didn't figure it was worth waking you up over, you know?"

Lex muzzily stretched his free arm out over Clark's chest, and murmured, "Yeah. We just need to find clothes to borrow, and everything will be great. I needed that sleep -- you look better, too. Still can't believe he's dead..."

"It doesn't hurt you. That's good. It shouldn't," Cyrus decided. "He's not worth hurting over. And even Jodie's doing better. They found some lard, and somebody went out to Krispy Kreme and McDonald's." He grinned. "I heard they were bringing us Burger King for breakfast."

"Never had it." But he'd probably like it; Lex had gone from gourmet food to what Lionel served at the institution, and hadn't ever done the 'normal' thing. Pizza when they went on 'field-trips' had been, and still was, an exciting treat.

A shift, and Lex sat up a little to look more keenly around the room. Clark was still out like a light -- probably because someone had stuck a hand in his chest the day before. And the kryptonite 'fun' from the night before; why should he mourn his father? There wasn't anything about him to be mourned. "I'm going to go look around and try to find clothes and a bathroom. Let Clark know I'm all right if he wakes up."

"Sure," Cyrus agreed with a little smile. "I'm going to steal your place and doze for a while, since you're getting up, okay?"

That wouldn't be bad. Lex trusted Cyrus with Clark, the same way he'd trusted Byron enough to leave them alone. It wasn't something he'd do with a lot of people. Lex liked making sure that Clark was safe, above all things. The fact that Clark didn't even flutter his lashes in response to Lex getting up said a lot about how exhausted he probably was, and so Lex wouldn't want him waking up, anyway. Cyrus's presence would make that a lot more likely.

"That's a good idea," Lex murmured as he stood, re-wrapping the cape around himself as he slipped out from under the blanket and held it up for Cyrus for a moment. Then he was faced with the task of carefully navigating past the other sleepers without stepping on toes that were sticking out towards the table in the center. The doors were still open, just as Cyrus had said, which was an invitation for exploration in Lex's definition of things.

Hopefully he could keep himself out of trouble.

Hopefully, nobody would be offended by his exploration. After all, they hadn't locked the doors...

"Going somewhere, Lex?"

It didn't startle him so much as make him curious, Lex's head turning to the side to see a guy in red and yellow so painfully primary that he couldn't help but grin.

"'cause we sent Green Lantern out for breakfast, but he's kinda slow."

Just like out of a comic book. JUST like out of a comic book, and that was why the grin didn't fade when he looked at the guy. "I wanted to see if I could... get some clothes for Clark and myself," Lex half-asked and half-suggested very carefully.

"Sure. We've got some stuff for everybody now. Batman went all Froot Loops demanding everybody have at least one clean set of clothes for today and another for tomorrow. But then we didn't know the sizes, so we just kind of went out and got multiples of all kinds of stuff. You want to come pick out what you guys want to wear? You know the sizes, right? Oh. I'm the Flash. In case you were wondering," the guy announced.

Lex was in love.

Not Love-love, because there were a lot of questions to be had on that topic -- after all, fathers were supposed to love you, and if that was the right sort of love, Lex wanted to be as far as fucking possible away from it, thanks -- but admiration. It was just like the comics...

"Flash," Lex repeated, smiling as he formed the word. Yeah, he even had lightning bolts on his clothes. So neat. "Actually, I don't know sizes. Lionel just... bought us things. He knew. Maybe the kids who were there for less time have some idea."

"Cool. Well, you come try stuff on and we'll let you get a shower, too. Bet you feel grungy after sleeping on the floor, huh? I'd feel nasty. And, hey, we saved some doughnuts! Well, not saved, exactly, I got extra in case your friend was feeling nibbly, 'cause I didn't want her to start feeling hungry or anything." For obvious reasons, Lex reckoned.

And within reason, she soon would start to feel hungry. "Father used to IV fat, or glucose, or something, right into her veins, when he felt like not-starving her. But I'm sure you'll come up with something." When Flash started to gesture him off in one direction -- presumably where there were showers and clothes being kept -- Lex followed, tugging the cape closer around him. "Actually, carpeting is pretty nice to sleep on. I can't remember what a real mattress feels like. It's really good to be free..."

"You... didn't even have mattresses to sleep on?" Lex got the feeling that the guy already knew a lot, but that seemed to startle him. "And nobody shut that place down? Christ!"

"Metal bed and thin rubber over top for ease of cleaning." The Flash was given a shrug of Lex's shoulders. "Merely morbid details. No one seemed to ever care before. Why did anyone even come for us now? It wasn't for me, or for Clark, or for Cyrus, or Ian, or Jodie, or... I could go on. It was Kyla, wasn't it? You all know her."

There wasn't any sign of shame on the hero's face. "Not all of us, no. But one of us, and when she went missing, her grandfather made a few calls. I'm given to understand that your father generally preferred to buy kids outright or kill their parents to get at them, so I'm guessing she's probably the first to leave anybody behind to get help."

Was that true? He'd left Pam behind, and Pam... had probably believed Lionel that Lex had gone mad. Some days he believed it, too. Cyrus had parents, hadn't he? And they'd all seen him on the milk cartons, which had been the end of milk cartons. Maybe Lionel had killed them after that. He'd have to find out.

"I see." But he didn't. It wasn't fair, even though he'd learned that nothing was fair or really sacred in the world. That all of them had been free was just an afterthought to getting Kyla. A nice afterthought, he had to admit, but... No one had thought there might be something wrong going on, and there had been government people who'd peered around and people who'd thought Lionel was the best thing for the world since sliced bread. "So she still has a home to go back to."

"She'll go with her grandfather," Flash said, pushing open the door to a room full of showers. "Here. You can get a bath here, and there are some really great towels over there. Wrap one of 'em around you, take a right out the door, and go down three doors. We've got all the clothes in there, okay? Maybe you want some help picking out some things for your friend, too?"

"I think I can do all right finding clothes for him," Lex replied, voice falling a little towards moroseness as he moved away from Flash. He wasn't going to think about what he'd just said, or what the implication was. No, he wasn't going to think that no one, not even a stranger, cared enough to get him, or Clark, or Byron out of that hell hole. After years of being there. But Kyla, after two god-damned WEEKS, with a whole, real childhood behind her and a whole normal sort of life still ahead of her...

He wasn't going to think about it, because if he did, he'd just make himself sick with anger and grief and, yeah, he could admit it, jealousy. Instead, he walked into the shower room and headed towards the end, not too startled to find Jake in a tub down at the end.

"Hi, Lex," he sighed happily.

"You've been here all night?" Lex half-asked as he started to drop his cape. Not thinking, except that from then on out, things should be better. Anger and grief and jealousy, as fine as those emotions were, weren't going to get him anywhere. And Jake was a great distraction; if he'd been alone in the bathroom, he probably would have punched something. Tried to break something, maybe cried; crying wasn't done unless it was from pain.

And even then, Lionel had only allowed it if he was the cause.

"Most of it," Jake admitted. "I was just feeling so dried out, you know? But this guy came and he babbled on about the ocean and people like us, blah, blah, and he said they had great baths. This one's salt water, even. I could die happy," he joked a little.

"I could at least die something close to content, myself," Lex quipped back. "So they're freaks like us." And if they were, where the FUCK had they been the past -- no. No, he wasn't doing that to himself. Instead he paused, waiting for Jake's answer before he'd turn on the water.

"I don't know. Some of them, I guess. This guy said he was the king of Atlantis, so I tried real hard not to laugh. You know, just in case he actually is. I mean, for all I know, Atlantis is real and they found it, right?" Jake ducked his head under the water to dampen himself, sighing when he came back up. "God, that's so good."

"If I were you, I'd hope it's real. Think about it, Jake. No more being dried out..." Or being made to dry out. "Lots of room to explore... At this point, why shouldn't we get our hopes up?" It wasn't as if getting them crushed again could make things worse.

By much. Lex sighed, and turned the water on with a jab of his palm to the complicated looking knob on the wall.

It gained him a face full of water at just the wrong height, obviously made for somebody even taller than him, which was hard. Clark was the only other person as tall as him, and while he was a couple of inches taller, this was sort of ridiculous!

Lex didn't even want to know who it could have been. But the water was warm, and when he nudged it a little further towards the red arrow, it actually got hotter. It was suddenly easy to see -- once he'd closed his eyes to the water -- why Jake had been so happy to spend the night in water.

It took Lex a minute to even bother looking for soap.

"It's nice, isn't it?" Jake asked him when he finally came out from under the spray, even Lex's head faintly pink from the warmth and the pressure. "Just moving into the bathroom seems like a good thing."

"Lex?"

"Clark?" Lex mustered an easy smile as he leaned out and glanced over to the door. "You're supposed to be sleeping..."

"You weren't there." One fist rubbed sleepily at a green eye, and Jake only laughed softly, ducking back under the water. They were all very familiar with Clark and Lex. "Cyrus was warm, but he wasn't you, so I got a pillow for him and came to look for you." Swim trunks fell by the way even more quickly than Lex's borrowed cape, and Clark joined him. "...WOW."

"Yeah, it's actually hot," Lex laughed, and moved out from under the spray a little just so Clark could have more room. "They apparently have a lot of clothes for us when we're done."

"You're happy." That seemed to please Clark beyond all imagining, his face lifting up to the showerhead, water spilling over his hair. "God, this is fucking wonderful, Lex!" Wonderful and nothing hurt yet, and if it started, Clark could run them anywhere in the world away from all of this.

That was the fucking wonderful part. Lex kept close to Clark, still under the water, and just concentrated on the feel of hot water over his skin. But he couldn't prolong the inevitable, so he stepped out from under it and handed Clark the bottle of shampoo. "It's nice -- smells sort of like fruit. I'm going to dry off."

"Don't go far?" Clark asked, hurrying a little more. Lex should have known that he wouldn't sleep much past the removal of bald head from strong arm; it was always that way with them, closer than brothers, and more of a comfort, too.

"I won't." They were on foreign ground, after all, and he almost felt bad about having left Clark in the first place. But it felt safe. Jake was being well cared for; the water was hot, and they were going to at least get one set of clothes. If something went wrong, they'd have that and maybe breakfast to run on.

And he'd been telling Jake to get his hopes up. Hypocrisy. "Just clean up and..." Lex laid a hand on the stack of towels, kneading his fingers in the thick texture. "God these are nice."

Clark didn't answer right off, head buried beneath the water, but when he did come out, he was smiling brilliantly. "You're happy, aren't you, Lex?" And that seemed to be more than enough to make Clark happy, the knowledge that Lex wasn't suffering or guilty or... or ANYTHING that was unpleasant. When the water shut off, Lex wasn't surprised to find Clark's arms around him almost immediately.

It felt really good to have Clark standing beside him, and it always did feel that good. Clark was an inhuman heater. And a damn good reason for Lex not to let that anger and jealousy stick around; Clark didn't need that shit.

Lex could be good for Clark. "Yeah, I could be," he husked as he tipped his head back, cheek pressed against Clark's wet hair. "Did they say where we're going?"

"Nothing," Clark admitted. "I've heard some of them muttering a little, saying that this kid would go with that person, preparations being made, but I haven't heard anything more than that. I, uh, slept pretty hard," he admitted sheepishly, snagging one of the towels and wrapping it around Lex with care. "Hey, but I heard Jake was going with some king of the ocean guy!"

Lex grinned and jerked a thumb over to Jake, who was still wallowing happily in the comfortable looking tub. "I think Jake knows already. He told him he was King of Atlantis, which would be... magnificent if it's real." A better life wasn't an unreachable hope, was it? Lex clutched at the towel, half-rubbing in spots to dry. He grabbed another for Clark's hair, and draped it over Clark's head with a touch of a smirk. "Clothes are down the hall -- third room on either the left or the right."

"Hey, cool! Clothes and breakfast! Jodie was chowing down on something that looked seriously bad for everybody else's health when I walked out." Lex didn't have to ask how Clark had found him; he'd probably just listened for Lex's voice. "The lady in the funny star spangled swimsuit was saying something about praying to Zeus and getting that fixed. Whatever she's smoking must be pretty good," Clark decided, reaching up to roughly dry his hair.

Lex pulled away a little, buffing his skin dry before he wrapped the towel around his hips tightly. "I think whatever all of them are smoking must be pretty good. Maybe we seem just as strange to them."

"Maybe," Clark agreed. "But Lex. They fly," he noted, wrapping a towel around his own body. It went around twice, and that just might be heaven.

"Some of them," Lex agreed. He gave Jake a wave, and briefly promised, "I'll make sure you get some food brought in to you if you want to stay here through breakfast." Clark looked pretty damn good with just a towel wrapped around his waist, but Lex had thought Clark was a cute kid when he'd arrived there. There was probably a better word for it, but Lex wasn't up to digging through his mind for a word that didn't have a Lionel definition to go with it.

"And you floated..."

"Yeah," Clark agreed quietly. "That was kind of scary. I've never done that before." On the other hand, Clark had never been so happy before, either. Unreasonably, hysterically happy, maybe even. "Maybe I'll be able to fly, too." That was even better; if he could fly, maybe he could get them away even faster if he needed to do that.

"Given everything else that you started to do. Maybe you would've been doing it before now, if Lionel had've been... dead sooner." Lex reached for Clark's hand, fingers still a little damp, and moved to walk with Clark out of the long bathroom. Hopefully they could find clothes; it wasn't as if the other kids were quite their size or height.

Luckily, neither of them had any sense of modesty, so maybe it wouldn't be too bad even if they didn't find clothes in their size.

"Maybe it'll get bigger. Like the other things did." Things that Clark only practiced when they were away from Lionel's institution, like the laser vision. Clark had been scared to death that Lionel would learn about it and want to gouge his eyes out to study them.

Things that Clark could really start to study just then, as soon as they were out of the building. Clark hadn't ever had a chance to test his limits himself, to really cut loose. "We can definitely hope so," Lex murmured as they stepped out into the hallway. "We need to ask where we're going. I'm not going to let them put you somewhere that I'm not."

"I want to go home," Clark decided. "We're old enough, Lex. Maybe if we talk fast enough, they'd let us. We could go back to Smallville. Mom and Dad..." The pang that struck him wasn't as horrible as it had been in those early days, but it wasn't exactly small, either. "They'd have left the house to me..." Maybe.

"It'll take time to sort out everything. I'll have money, now that..." Maybe it hadn't hit him, or the joy of relief had overwhelmed him; it hadn't felt real until he'd mentioned the money. "Oh, God -- Julian."

That realization seemed fairly horrible for Clark, too, but he shook his head. "Pamela's with him, Lex. Maybe he'll be okay, at least for now."

"But..." Fuck, that was the but. "Does anyone even know he's dead? Julian knew he 'worked' long nights, but he didn't come back to him."

Clark scowled. "Maybe not. In which case, somebody ought to be checking on him." Them, probably. "Maybe if we ask..."

"Yes." Except Lex's mind was jumping to the logistics. Neither of them could drive, and... But they were in the same city. Julian wasn't far. Maybe it was even a school day, which meant he'd already be in classes.

"Once we're dressed, all right? I feel slightly stupid asking for a favor while wearing a towel." They were in the hallway, and Lex quickly counted doors.

"Okay," Clark agreed. "And maybe breakfast, too?" His face was flushed from the shower, but his grin was sheepish because of the rumble his stomach gave. There was little joy in starving Clark or Lex, so they were often fed. Well-fed in Clark's case.

Left door or right door... "Here, you check that one, I'll check this one," Lex suggested as he moved to the left side door. "Breakfast, too." There were other things to do to hurt them, other integral ways that Lionel could get to them the easiest. Clark's restrictor plate had been the least of them.

"Here it is!" And it was, a room full of clothes. Not just the kind of stuff Lionel had provided, slacks and white shirts, but jeans and colors of all varieties, and there were socks and real shoes. "Wow. Lex..."

"Jeans first." And there was underwear, too, which Lex veered a little to look through, trying to find something that he could wear and that Clark could wear. "They've gone all out, haven't they?"

"Kind of. I guess. I remember having all of this stuff when I was younger," Clark admitted. "Hey! Look! Blue!" Blue. Clark loved blue, almost as much as he liked red. The sheer delight on his face was enough to make even Lex laugh.

"You had jeans when you first got there," Lex half-reminded. And Clark had kept them until he'd grown out of them. "They're doing a good job of at least pretending to be nice. Here, try these on."

Soft heather grey brief-things with legs on them. They were sort of like shorts in a way, and when Lex let his towel slip off so he could pull a pair on, they felt good. No cutting-off circulation tightness, and definitely no wedge of fabric going up into his ass.

"My God. Comfortable underwear EXISTS!" It felt silly to be so excited about clothes that didn't pinch or bind or touch places that made them uncomfortable.

To the eyes watching from the door, it was just horribly, impossibly sad. "Hey," the Flash called, catching their attention once they had on t-shirts as well. "Green Lantern finally came back with breakfast. There's eggs and bacon and bagels and fruit and stuff."

"Great. We'll be there soon," Lex assured. He was halfway to picking up a pair of jeans, trying to see if they'd fit without having to put them on first. Clark's little outburst just made him smile; because it was true, it did exist.

It existed, and they had some.

"Sure thing. I'll go talk Jake out of that tub and we'll come back here so I can show you the way to the kitchen." And then the guy was gone with a speed that would have nearly put Clark to shame.

Nearly.

"Talking Jake out of the tub could take a while," Lex noted as he held the jeans out to Clark. "They're too long in the leg for me, I can tell. Try them on?"

"Sure." The difference in their height was mostly in the legs, so Clark ought to be able to wear them without any trouble. It was fun to watch Clark shimmy into them.

And they did fit well. Maybe Clark needed a belt, but even hitching your pants up occasionally was good when the clothes were comfortable. "Perfect. Why don't you check out the shoes while I look for jeans I can wear? I still can hardly believe all of this..."

"It's almost like some kind of dream," Clark agreed, wandering towards the shoes. There were tennis shoes in lots of colors and sizes, and Clark reached for a random pair of black ones, trying them on. "Not these..."

Lex started to pull on the pair of jeans he'd found; good in his legs, but loose on his hips. That was nice, and he tucked the undershirt-t-shirt whatever it was into the waistband. "I've had dreams this good, and they never felt quite so solid. A lot of dreams about how you'd described your family's farm."

Clark paused in the middle of tying on a pair of red tennis shoes, stars on the ankle-high material. "I'll take you there," Clark promised him. "I've always wanted to take you there, Lex."

"If it's even still there. I mean, you were probably presumed dead, Clark..." Lex suggested carefully. He picked up the black shoes Clark had discarded, and sat down on the floor for a moment to see if they fit.

"It'll be there," Clark decided. "Maybe not like it was when I... Maybe not like it was then. Maybe different, maybe a lot. But it'll be there, Lex, and I'll show it to you. I'll take you there." It was important to him.

One of Clark's little hopes, and Lex had to do something to ease him into the reality of it. Lex's own hopes were the little random things, marvelling in comic book heroes and clothes that were comfortable. The shoes Clark had passed on fit Lex, if he tightened the laces well. "It could have gone to the state. Did either of them have parents? I mean, parents who were still alive?"

"No," Clark admitted. "They were just by themselves. But..." He paused, bit his lip. "I know, Lex. I. I know, I just hate to think about it. All I've wanted for so long is to go home. I wish we could all go. Even Ian." And Clark hated him. He didn't behave properly towards Lex, and it infuriated the alien part of him, made Clark glower and work not to singe Ian's eyebrows right off.

"I know. But we could do something like that. If it's still there, we could get... help buying it back." Lex leaned a little, just far enough to slip his arms around Clark's shoulders. "You wanted to go home, and I wanted to go to school. We'll do it, Clark. We will."

The green eyes that turned to him held trust. He was probably the only person who had seen that expression since Clark was thirteen, and even he hadn't seen it for a very long time. "I know we will," Clark said seriously. "I believe in you, Lex."

"Good. I'll try to not let you down..." Lex almost said something more, but there was a throat-clearing noise from the doorway. Not that being watched was something new.

Two pairs of eyes turned automatically to the shadow-haunted doorway, Clark's face hardening slightly. "Mr. Wayne," he greeted, the suspicion barely held at bay. "Can we help you with something?"

"Come to breakfast. There are announcements to be made. And don't use that name again, Mr. Kent."

Lex went a little tense, but started to stand up, still holding onto Clark as he did so. The man preferred to be called a perfectly silly name. That was fine, that was understandable... "C'mon, Clark," Lex said softly. "Let's go get some food. The Flash" -- who struck Lex as much of a delightful person as the Green Arrow man had been, what Superheroes should be -- "said they have donuts."

"Donuts?" That was enough to distract Clark, his eyes lighting up with delight. "Really? I wonder if there are enough..." Clark could probably eat a good dozen all on his own, two if they were cream filled.

And Batman (Bruce Wayne, Lex thought spitefully) was gone.

"I bet there are. They bought enough clothes..." But Lionel did strange things like that sometimes. A bounty of one thing, a vacancy of another. They weren't with Lionel, but Lex still found his nerves creeping into memory.

He clutched tight on Clark's hand, and headed out into the hallway again, ready to wander back towards there they'd been. "I... smell coffee."

That was another treat, one that they got on fieldtrips sometimes. Lex always wanted something complicated and foofy, and Clark always wanted to sip at it. "You reckon it's good coffee? Let's go see!" Clark was ready to bundle him up and hurtle along with him.

There was a mid-way point. Lex grinned, and broke into a jog that demanded Clark follow, or show off and beat him there.

"Come on, slowpoke!" There was only the sound of Clark's voice, and then his hand, waving from around a corner.

"That isn't fair!" Lex laughed as he broke into a run towards Clark. The coffee smelled good. Hazelnut, and with enough sugar and milk, if they were allowed it, he could sort of make something like they got on fieldtrips; the coffee his mother had let him drink when he was little.

It wouldn't be such a bad day, maybe.

'Maybe' had left way too much room for movement. Lex wasn't happy, and Clark was even more unhappy. When the Justice League had announced that they would be separating the children, there had been an uproar, led by the two of them. Clark's automatic fury at the thought of being separated from Lex had even scared a few of the League members, though all of the mutants had stood calmly by and waited.

Not that Clark's fury had done any grand lot of good, but at least their feelings on the matter were well known.

Well known as angry. At least they hadn't been separated, but Lex had a suspicion they hadn't been about to do it anyway. Not that the thought made him any happier. Lex had really wanted to go 'Home' with Clark. Or to get an answer to his fretting over Julian. Or... something.

Not find himself in the back of a limo, sitting beside Clark, and across from... Batman, sans his pointy ears.

"So. Now that you've got us all apart," Clark finally said, frowning, "what's on your agenda? What's all of this really about? I'm not sure I believe in all of this altruism, somehow."

"You're not required to believe in it until it's been proven to you," Bruce replied with an ease that belied his Batman persona.

Lex didn't like the 'Batman' persona. He wanted to find that stupid costume and take scissors to it, if he didn't think it would get them both in trouble. "That still doesn't answer Clark's question" -- and Lex hesitated for a moment -- "Mr. Wayne. What now?"

"Now, you settle in. We reintegrate all of you into society, and try to cure the ones who are physically ill or otherwise incapacitated. We try to find the proper environments for all of you."

"The proper environment for me is Smallville," Clark stressed, "and the proper environment for Lex is with me."

That much was a given. But there were other things that Lex was unsure about. They'd been young the last time they'd been out there with any regularity. How much had things changed, really changed, since then? The fieldtrips were superficial, and Lionel shielded them from a great deal of reality...

Lex shifted his fingers, woven into Clark's comfortably. "That's a very pat and vague answer, sir."

"Of course. Giving anything more specific would be irresponsible and severely lacking in any truth," Bruce told them both. "The answer is that you will be with me until such time as you handle society comfortably. The two of you are more likely to fit into human society, and also more likely to have problems doing just that. You were both very young when you went into Lionel's..." His lip curled. "INSTITUTION."

What a joy, simultaneously being the most and the least likely to pull something off well. Lex watched Bruce's face, studying it for any sign of lying. "Yes, we're both well aware how long we were there, and I'm sure you have some idea."

"TOO long," Clark muttered darkly, frowning. "I don't want to go to Gotham. Unless the crime rate's dropped in the past five years?"

"Appreciably, actually. The benefits of Batman," Bruce told them easily.

"You... live outside of Gotham, actually? Out in the country?" Lex hedged, drudging through his memory. "I half remember my father talking about the Waynes. Before." Before his mother had died, and his freakishness had been too much for Lionel to deny.

"Yes. And I have a ward, one who's approximately Clark's age," Bruce said solemnly. "It's one of the reasons the two of you have been placed with me."

Clark nudged Lex slightly. "But what about Julian? Does anybody know about him?"

"Has he been told? He's only eleven." Or twelve. Lex waffled on ages sometimes, unless it was near a person's birthday. "He needs to be told. I need to talk to him..."

"You'll have that opportunity," Bruce said. "I've made certain arrangements. The woman who was your nanny made a few objections, but I overrode them." Meaning he'd paid somebody to turn a blind eye, so maybe Julian would be with them?

Never mind that people being paid to turn a blind eye made Lex nervous. "What happens to everything now that my Father is dead?" Once upon a time, he'd fancied that he'd run the company; but even the most mundane of his little dreams had been ripped from him, and the thoughts of being like his father had lost their appeal years ago. Probably the first time Lionel had fucked him. "Are we finally going to be acknowledged as not dead, missing or insane?"

"After a certain amount of time has passed, yes. Most of you have been on milk cartons for years. Those of you have been listed as found and placed in appropriate homes. A few had living parents, and those parents have been disassociated from your friends long enough that we've petitioned the courts to give legal guardianship to various members of society in whom we hold more trust." Obviously people who sold their children weren't high up on that list. "There were only a few listed as insane, and that will also be dealt with accordingly."

"And the bodies he kept downstairs?" Lex hedged. Preserved for study, like tiny dead animals had been in science class, and Lex hated to remembered that. Clark was lucky that his fingers were invulnerable, because Lex was squeezing with every agitating thought he offered up. "They were our friends..."

"Arrangements have been made for burial. He was very... CLEAR as to which body was which. That's part of what made it easier for us to keep all of you from being institutionalized elsewhere," Wayne admitted. "The fact that you had obviously been in untenable positions has been more than proven."

Christ. Lex couldn't imagine having been put somewhere else, somewhere that he might not have had Clark... "I... and I'm sure that Clark is, too... am grateful for you having gotten us out."

Clark didn't want to admit it, but he didn't have a lot of choice. "Thank you for not separating us," he finally muttered, frowning.

"You're welcome," Bruce said simply, and then fell quiet.

Lex would have been more appreciative of better circumstances. And maybe if they'd been found before so many years had passed. Before they'd all lost so much...

No, he had to be grateful for what there was. Food to eat and comfortable clothes, and he had Clark. Clark got his fingers squeezed again, and Lex twisted a little towards him as he fell silent himself. The limo had windows they could look out of, after all.

"Hey, look," Clark whispered to him after several minutes. "There's the coolest statue!" It was, a lady in robes that stretched sky-high. Gotham was a lot more modern in weirder ways than Metropolis was.

Lex leaned against Clark, peering to look out the window Clark had caught sight of it out of. "Maybe we can see it up close sometime," Lex suggested quietly. There were other things worth looking at, too; everything in one way or another was worth attention.

"We're going out of the city, now," Bruce told them as they took a random right on some big highway. It seemed random to Clark and Lex, anyway, but it certainly didn't deprive them of sights. The trees were taller in Gotham than they were at home, and everything seemed to be in a state of autumn, the leaves gorgeous in shades of flaming red and bright yellow.

Lex stayed where he was, leaning across Clark and looking out of Clark's window. It seemed to have a nicer view than his own, and Clark was warm. "What's the other person you mentioned like?"

"Dick is also an orphan. His parents were circus performers, high-wire artists. There was... an unfortunate incident here in Gotham. It resulted in their deaths. After a certain amount of persuasion, he agreed to be my ward." Dark eyes glanced at Clark. "I suspect that you'll like him."

Why Clark in particular? "We'll see," Lex tried to agree pleasantly as he sat back again. He wasn't going to be jealous.

Really. He wasn't.

"What makes you think that?" Clark had Lex, and that had always been enough for Clark before. It still would be, especially if Lex asked him. Clark would tell him that.

They didn't do anything. They just... were, and there was no way that Dick, dead parents or not, could understand what they'd been through. Only they understood, them and the other kids who'd lived through it. Lex waited for Bruce's answer, knowing the man had to notice the suspicious bristling.

"Dick is very demonstrative. Very much like you are," Bruce said simply. "In my experience, he gets along well with others of equally expressive nature."

"In my experience, I don't," Clark said simply, stroking the space between Lex's thumb and his hand.

"Desiree," Lex snorted. The stroking was nice, mellowing for Lex even as he looked at Bruce. "Byron was demonstrative... but it's different. I don't think it can be explained to you, Mr. Wayne. Everyone from the institute knew each other for a very long time."

"Which is one of the reasons that we think you need to be reacclimated to society at large. It's different when you have to deal with new people constantly." That went without saying, Lex and Clark both knew it. They were very aware that no matter what happened, all of them would have problems integrating the way that Wayne seemed to think they should.

"I like Lex," Clark said simply, turning to look out the window again as they slowed, exiting onto an off-ramp and rushing up it, coming to a stop at the top of a hill. "And Julian. And that's enough for now."

"I have to agree," Lex told Wayne. Was everything so black and white and simply straightforward for him? "But we... will try to adjust." And if it turned out to be a Lionel sort of adjusting, they were gone, as fast as Clark's legs could carry them. The three of them, even. They'd never tried that, but Lex believed in Clark.

"Of course. For now, that's enough. There will be other matters to discuss at a later date, and adjustments to be made," Bruce said simply. "I believe you'll do well.

"And what will we be doing?" Wayne seemed to simplify enough be kith and kin to Lionel, which made Lex lean into Clark a little, still watching the man's face for lies. He probably already had some sort of schedule for them, though what it was Lex couldn't guess. If they lived out in the country, maybe they'd have set outside times.

Something. He really hoped they'd have outside times. At night, so they could see the sky.

"You both have G.E.D.s. I thought that perhaps you'd like to go back to school, if that appeals," Bruce offered. "There are a few excellent colleges and universities here in Gotham. One of them will probably interest you. A part time job might also be nice, help you meet more people."

Clark's arm shifted, tightened slightly around Lex, keeping him close. "So you're going to let us go out? Away from you, I mean."

"That is the point of this exercise, Mr. Kent."

"You'll have to forgive us if it seems... novel." Lex clenched his jaw for a moment, trying to phrase things nicely, politely. "Clark hasn't done that for five years. I haven't done it for eleven. We've... missed out on a lot."

"Which is one of the reasons that I believe it important for both of you to make your return to society in general," Wayne answered calmly enough.

What was there for Lex to say to that? 'No, we don't want to'? He bit his bottom lip as he looked out of the window again. "Are we almost there?" Complete non-sequitur, but Lex was tired of the conversation.

A lot of talking, and no proof that they'd ever do.

"Soon," Bruce said simply, watching both of them with a care that made Lex's skin itch and undoubtedly made Clark want to hurt him. "It's only another six miles." And he'd know for sure, Lex reckoned, being Batman.

"Will we be allowed outside at night?" Clark was having thoughts remarkably similar to Lex's own.

It only was natural, though. When you were around a person for so long, you started to think like them. "Lionel let us, sometimes. Clark and I like to watch the stars."

"Of course." It was easy enough to give permission for that, Lex guessed. "Unfortunately, Gotham has a tendency to be cloudy or stormy more often than is really fair, and we're still too close to the city to see the night sky very well. Still. I can provide you with telescopes, and you're more than welcome to go to the top of the house. There's a widow's walk where you can set them up."

Lex let his eyes drift over to Clark's face, and his mouth twitched a little. "This is where I ask what a widow's walk is."

"It's an architectural oddity generally found in houses on the coast. A part of the roof or an extra porch on an upper level that was historically used to search for sight of ships coming in from the sea," Bruce explained. "There's a large one available for your telescopes. Dick will probably take you to choose the ones you want."

"You have that many?" Or did he mean out? A little fieldtrip of sorts... Lex could like that idea. Lex could like this semi-freedom, as long as he had Clark with him.

"None at all, actually. You'll want to choose your own, I suspect," Bruce replied.

"That would be nice," Clark admitted grudgingly. Lex could tell that he wasn't too sure about being friendly towards the man.

He was a lot like Lionel, in too many ways. He was cold, palpably so, and had the same 'I know what's best for you' attitude; Lex wasn't willing to trust that attitude, and Clark probably wasn't, either.

There was a reply on Lex's lips, but up ahead he could see a gated off area, and a morbid building down on the other side, where another hill was starting to crest.

"Is that it?" Clark asked. "Is that where we'll be staying?"

"Yes," Bruce said simply. "We're almost home now."

Home. Like they had one, like it would be one, and maybe it was just years of Lionel that made them both suspicious, or maybe it wasn't.

Was there something about Bruce to be suspicious of, or... no, there wasn't such a thing as being too paranoid. Lex swallowed, looking at the gloomy building, and caught himself half-mourning the clean metal and cool lights of the institute. At least it had been tidy there, and familiar.

"And we'll be introduced to 'Dick'?"

"If he isn't out racing or getting himself into trouble, yes." As if that was something to be expected, which made Clark and Lex both nervous.

They didn't get into trouble, not unless it was Lionel's definition of the word; trouble meant hurting, it meant torture, it meant getting your friends and loved-ones hurt.

There was no way to know that it didn't mean that for Bruce.

Lex shifted, still watching through the window as the limo slowed, and heavy gates opened through some unseen mechanization.

"Both of you will have rooms near Dick. Alfred's already made them up, I feel sure. He's looking forward to having someone else in his care for a while," Wayne stated calmly. "I could never outgrow him, but he always feels better when there's someone more than just me."

"Is he your assistant?" That Bruce had an assistant made Lex feel colder; Lionel had had a succession of them, that he'd probably killed off or whatever else he liked to do to people who weren't in the institution.

"My butler, actually. He raised me after my parents died. It was a very long time ago."

"So, why Batman?" Clark asked. It wasn't the best timing in the world, but the question was eating at him.

They were almost there, and Lex was more than willing to wait for an answer. Never mind that since they were almost there, Wayne would probably stall and evade actually answering them.

"I'm not going to answer that question yet." Simple, to the point. Clark was going out on a limb because the restrictor plate was removed, and he could probably protect himself and Lex with ease, so it was okay to ask questions.

"Whatever you're comfortable with," Lex said carefully. "Do you have any ground rules you want to tell us before we get there?"

"For now, I'd like it if you didn't go into the city at night, and if you didn't go alone. I don't want either of you to get lost. We'll spend a few days acclimating you to things. Dick might take you shopping, if you like, and..." The man paused. "Arrangements are being made for Julian, as I stated previously. I'm sure he'll be a great help to you."

Those weren't rules. There were pretty smart suggestions, given Lex and Clark's lack of street smarts. Or how to cope with people. Or...

"That sounds fine," Lex murmured as the limo rolled to a stop.

"I thought it might," Bruce replied in a voice just as soft.

"When can we go to Smallville?" Clark asked. He wanted to go, desperately, even though Lex was probably right and everything was in chaos. "I, I want to see the farm, and... I want to see my parents." They were dead, but that didn't stop him from wanting.

It made Lex's mouth go gently tight at the edges, and he tugged at Clark's hand while he pulled away a little to open the door. "Maybe we should wait until later to work all of this out, Clark," Lex half-suggested as he struggled with the lock for a moment before working it out.

It was a gentle prod, but one that Clark took to heart as Lex pushed his way out of the car. "Okay," he agreed simply, stepping out behind Lex. He could feel Bruce standing from the other side of the car; didn't even have to see him. "It's...." Big. Dark. Scary. Lots of words fit it.

"Old," Lex settled on as he tugged at Clark's fingers gently, and started forwards a little so that they could be away from Bruce. "And big. It looks like there's a lot we could explore."

"It looks like we could get lost," Clark said with no small amount of awe, staying close to Lex. "It's so big."

"Don't worry. Getting lost is highly unlikely," Bruce declared. "Come inside."

Come inside.

Once, Lionel had told Lex to take a peek inside the new building, won't be more than a moment, and it was two years until he actually got to leave it again. So he went a little still at the idea, unable to make himself go forwards. Lex had to, for Clark, but... but...

It was so big. Who knew what Bruce was hiding in it?

Clark's hand on his arm was strong, and reassuring, and maybe it wouldn't be like that. Maybe it would be better. And maybe when Julian arrived, Clark would run away with both of them if things went horribly wrong.

"I'm sure supper will be ready," Bruce offered, moving in front of them. Lionel would never have done that. Lionel would have walked behind them, put a hand on Clark's shoulder, or his, and insinuated something while mentioning dinner. Would have made them uncomfortable.

But it still could have been a ploy...

"Clark, let's ask for a deck of cards when we get in there," Lex whispered as they followed. "I don't want to have time to think."

"Sure," Clark agreed, reaching to put a hand tenderly to the small of Lex's back. "That shouldn't be any trouble, I wouldn't think." They could play something more complicated than Go Fish, and maybe there would be enough sets of cards for double solitaire or pinochle.

Something complicated that they could entertain themselves with. There weren't any others to talk with or ignore, no lessons to anticipate, no Lionel to try to avoi--

The double-doors opened before they had even reached them, and it swung open to reveal a dark-haired boy who looked fit, stylish and relaxed. He almost immediately trotted down the stairs towards Bruce. "Hey -- are these them? Hi, guys, I'm Dick Grayson."

Are these them? What kind of grammar was that, anyway? That caused suspicion to well up in Clark, Lex knew, his vague irritation obvious if only to Lex. "Clark Kent," he introduced himself shortly.

"Dick. I wasn't expecting you to be home," Wayne admitted, "but I'm glad you are."

"Pleasure to meet you, Clark." Dick smiled too wide when he offered his hand, and his eyes glanced between Clark and Lex, the way they were touching. His eyes flicked to Lex quickly. "And what's your name?"

"Alexander J. Luthor."

That didn't seem to bother Dick, even though Clark hadn't taken his hand and Lex didn't offer his, either. Instead, it made him look to Bruce, eyebrows raised as the man said, "I suppose dinner is ready?"

"Yeah, almost. Alfred's happy that we're going to have company for a while. Do you guys want me to show you to your rooms?" Dick was already turning to head back into the house, ready to lead the way no matter what their answer was.

"If you could," Lex half-suggested.

"That would be nice," Clark agreed, both of them more than a little off-balance.

"I'll see all of you downstairs shortly," Bruce promised, drifting away into darkness in a way that was nerve-wracking. It made them both shiver.

"So," Clark said faintly as they followed Dick. "How long have you been here?"

"Since I was fourteen. Bruce was there when I needed him when my parents died. Really, you guys don't have any reason to be scared of him; he's morose sometimes, but he's a good guy." What a spiel, Lex decided as he shadowed Clark and stayed silent while Dick talked to them. "How... You guys were from the Belle Reve place?"

"Yeah." Clark was obviously the one who was going to do all of the talking, at least for now. "I've been there five years. Lex has been there more like ten." A long time, either way, and not a comfortable admission by any means.

"I was there when he built it," Lex agreed after a moment. Dick kept looking at Clark, studying him, and Lex wanted to bare his teeth at the boy and scare him off.

"Wow," Dick sighed, "You guys are all over the news, you know."

"We wouldn't know. We haven't seen the news," Clark admitted. "Not in a long time, anyway. I couldn't even tell you who the president is now."

"If they'd lifted the 22nd Amendment, Clinton might be in office still," Lex suggested, mouth twitching a little.

"Bruce wasn't kidding when he'd said you all were isolated." Dick turned down a long hallway as he muttered that. "You've got rooms across the hall from each other."

Clark looked at Lex uncertainly. He didn't want to sleep alone, not in a strange place. Not for as long as Lex would have him, anyway. There was no reason to say that to Dick, though, so instead he just held Lex's hand a little tighter, carefully, and agreed. "Okay." Okay, but he didn't have to like it.

They'd had separate rooms at the institute, too, but that didn't mean that they actually slept in them separately. Lex squeezed Clark's fingers in return, mouth a thin line as Dick walked forwards a little more and popped open each door. "Okay, guys -- these are your rooms, choose which one you each like best."

"Lex?" Clark was going to give him first choice, because it really didn't matter to him. He didn't care so long as Lex was there, and Dick was making him nervous.

Almost anyone made him nervous after all the time they'd spent at Belle Reve.

Lex choose the one on the left with natural ease, and tugged Clark in with him. What he saw wasn't what he'd been expecting. He'd been expecting... something like the Institute, even though the building had dark wood walls and polished wood flooring, suits of armor and paintings at regular intervals.

It was so far beyond Lex's comprehension and expectation that he stood there and stared for a moment. The wood floor had a thick-looking rug on it, and there was a fireplace in the corner, and furniture, and a heavy, carved desk, and a bed that... Lex remembered beds like that, big soft-looking beds with feather ticks on top of them, and pillows as big as Clark's torso.

"Oh..."

"Wow," Clark whispered reverently. "Wow. Lex. It's. I've never seen anything like it," he admitted, lips parted faintly in shocked surprise, a shaky breath making its way from between his lips. "Wow."

"Yeah," Dick laughed. "I thought the same thing first time I was here. I mean, after living in a circus and all, it's a little extravagant, you know?"

"I used to have one like this... before." Lex swallowed, and edged further into the room to reach out and touch it. He laughed a little roughly, and turned to look over his shoulder at Clark. "I could almost skip supper to sleep on a real bed again..."

"We can if you want." It was an earnest offer, one deeply and truly meant on Clark's part. "I'm not that hungry." That was a sacrifice made of love, because Clark was always hungry. Hungry for food, hungry for the sun, hungry for the stars, hungry for Lex.

Lex caught the look on Clark's face, knew what he was saying... And smiled at him. "I did say 'almost' -- the bed isn't going anywhere." He hoped, because neither was his awe of it. The covers felt so soft under his fingers, bringing up sparks of memory that Lex had worked hard not to ever think about. Some things you could think about and go properly mad. Like how he and Clark had lost so much. Kyla had lost two... just two weeks.

The rumble that sounded from Clark's midsection made the eighteen year old blush, his mouth tilting upwards ruefully. "Just as well, then, because you know I can always eat." It was just the two of them in that moment, no Dick or Bruce or weird old dark house. Even though Dick was standing in the room with them, watching quietly.

Lex didn't pay him any attention as he meandered back to Clark, mouth curling as he nodded. "Maybe we can get some soda, too? Or more coffee?"

Dick cleared his throat finally. "Hey, do you guys want to see the other room at all?"

"Huh?" Clark turned around, cheeks flaring wildly in a blush that said it was more unlikely that it would be used than it was likely. "Um. Yeah, sure. Please. I mean, just in case..." In case Lex liked it better, obviously.

Dick sort of smiled as he led them across the hall to the second room. It was a little smaller, and all of the furniture was different. Still beautiful, maybe even more so than the other room, because the bed seemed to take up most of the space. The bed and the desk. It was easy for Clark to tell which room they'd be sleeping in; that smaller one, because it was more comfortable to be closed in.

"So, are you two an item?"

"What's an item?" Clark asked in confusion, brow knitting. "I mean, when it's people? I understand when it's an object..." An item? Maybe some of the older kids could have explained it, the ones who'd come in later, like Kyla, but there had been so few, and they'd mostly been girls. Clark hadn't talked with any of them much, even Jodie. Especially after she'd told him about Pete.

"It..." He stared at them both for a moment, and Lex flicked an impatient glance at Dick for just a moment. "Are you two together? You know, dating?"

"Uhm..." Lex glanced over to Clark, his own brows knitting; he knew what that meant, but... Did everything need a damned label?

"We're Clark and Lex," Clark explained. "That's all." And that was all, to them. It was everything, save the occasional visit with Julian. It was comfort and tenderness and things that were right.

Lex shifted his fingers and gave Clark's hand a smooth squeeze, encouragement and thanks for that answer all in one gesture, then tugged lightly. "Why don't you show us the dining room, Dick? I think Clark's pretty hungry."

"I'm always hungry," Clark agreed, waiting patiently for Dick to stop watching them. "Except when I'm in the sun. Then it's not so bad. Actually, then it's kind of nice."

Dick didn't stop watching, because he followed them out, then passed them to lead the way.

"Maybe we can go out tomorrow, then. It's late, and the sun doesn't seem to stay out very long here," Lex suggested.

"He said we could go out," Clark agreed. "Maybe we could get telescopes then. Or something. If he wouldn't mind. And if, um, we could. If Dick would..." He fumbled. "Would you please? Take us to get telescopes? We won't ask for much..." The fear that Dick would say no was evident.

"And we'll..." Behave? No. Be good? No, though Lionel would have wanted either answer. "We won't be much trouble."

"Hey, it's the weekend as of today, and that's what weekends are for. Bruce'll probably want me to get some other things. It could be an all day event."

It was enough to make them both a little breathless with surprise, anticipation. "All day?" Clark asked. The thought was startling and clear and beautiful. "All day outside? Going somewhere?"

Dick glanced over his shoulder at them, then turned back around just as they started down the main stairwell. "Yeah. We could go to lots of places."

A look passed between Clark and Lex, one that nearly distracted them both entirely from the stairwell. "Lots of places," Clark whispered to him. "Maybe we could even have candy?" Or cake. Or something sweet, because Jodie had been the only one to ever get that.

It had been a huge treat to have donuts that morning, and the coffee Lex had made overly sweet. "Maybe," Lex agreed quietly, a whisper back to him as Dick gave them another glance. He looked sad, the same sort of sad the Flash had looked at all of them with.

"You guys have to aim higher than that," he half-tsked.

"Higher?" Clark seriously considered the matter. "I remember these things when I was a kid. My dad used to love them. They were jelly things and they had lots of different flavors. We could have all of those flavors. Maybe. Is that higher?"

"N..." Dick shook his head a little. "Yeah, that's a little higher. How often did Luthor let you guys out?"

"Every three or four months, for a couple of hours." Lex paused at the bottom of the stairs, re-tracking in his head to make sure that he knew how to get back to the bedrooms. "Only if we'd been good."

"He didn't usually think we had," Clark said softly, looking at Lex. "But we always were. Always." Except that once, and maybe it would end up being worth it. Maybe it would be okay to find themselves here, if they got to go out for a whole day, and have candy.

Maybe.

"Man." Dick sighed that, and he half-pointed them towards the dining room even though he was still walking in front of them. "It's over this way, okay? It's usually pretty quiet; if Bruce isn't at dinner, Alfred is."

Alfred, who just sounded sort of stuffy, didn't he? Alfred. But maybe he was older, or something. Assistant, whatever he was. Maybe he let people call him Al.

Clark wondered who did the cooking. Cooking was very important to Clark, in a weird way. The food at Belle Reve had always been horribly bland, but every now and then, it would be spiced up a bit, and he loved that. Maybe the food would be good in Gotham.

Not that anything could beat his mother's cooking -- what he remembered of it. But maybe it could come close. Even if it didn't, maybe it was at least good, and he and Lex could go up to the bedroom and see what the bed was like.

"Bruce, are you here tonight?" Dick called as he opened the dining room doors.

"Yes." The sound made Lex and Clark both startle. Did the man carry his own personal darkness around with him? "I thought it would be a good idea to have dinner with everyone tonight. Alfred's even made his specialty."

Specialty?

"Oh." What was Lex supposed to say to that? He slipped into the room, tugging Clark along, and skirted around Bruce. It was easy to see that the way he'd acted at the Institute was a sham, and that the real Bruce seemed to be somewhere between that, and the man in the pointy ears. "I'm sure it's good."

Why didn't the big table have places telling them where to sit? It was confusing, and it made them both feel helpless and lost. If they sat in the wrong places, would there be punishment? Kryptonite or knives or separation?

"You're allowed to sit wherever you like," Bruce told them almost gently, pulling out his own chair and seating himself at the head of the table. Their terror was obvious enough that a normal person could probably taste it on the air, never mind Batman. "Nobody's going to hurt you for that. I promise."

Okay. They could... do that. Lex pulled out a chair near to Bruce, and snagged the one beside it for Clark, too. "It probably seems stupid to you," Lex noted.

"Just a little weird," Dick countered as he moved to sit opposite of Lex.

"So normal people just sit wherever they want," Clark said slowly. "I'd forgotten that." Or maybe he'd never really known it. His parents had always sat in the same seats, and he'd always sat in his own seat. In school, they'd always lined up in alphabetical order and sat that way at lunch and in classrooms.

"You're not alone in that," Lex murmured as he settled, and then scooted his chair in. The place settings were as opulent as the rest of the place, forks and knives in tidy rows, with glasses at the head of the plateless setting.

"I think you'll like dinner. Alfred's really a great cook when Bruce lets him..."

"I let Alfred cook as often as he likes. He's getting older, Dick." There wasn't any particularly stern inflection in that statement. "He does too much."

"Master Bruce."

Clark startled, turning around so quickly that anyone else's neck would have been broken.

"I see you've brought the new young masters with you. Dinner is prepared for all of you," the older man said with a distinct dignity, moving towards the table with a large tray in his hands.

Alfred looked like he'd been hand-plucked from one of those old mystery shows Lionel had let them watch sometimes. Tall and thin, with one of those laughably uppercrust English accents that half-fascinated Lex. He watched the man walk toward Bruce, and set the tray down, lifting the cover up.

"You've done it again, Alfred," Dick grinned. "Here, let me help you..."

"Ah, ah, Master Richard. Don't consider it." Alfred's words and very gentle hand halted the progression the young man was making towards that tray. "I know your plan is to poke your finger in the one you want."

"You've seen right through him, Alfred." Bruce seemed pleased by that, and it made Clark nervous.

But... steak, with an interesting something on the side. The smell was enough to make Lex less than nervous. The bed looked nice, the food smelled good...

"I think our guests should get first choice. Sirs?"

That thought made Lex's breath catch in almost fear, made even Clark's heart beat faster. "Oh, no," he managed to stammer. "We, we couldn't. We'll go last, okay?" Because last was good, last meant they weren't getting something somebody else might have wanted, and then no one would be upset with them, surely?

"You really can go first," Bruce told them. "It's okay. No one's going to be offended."

"Are you sure?" No, it had to be a trick, a smaller version of when Lionel offered him freedom the last time they were out.

Alfred sighed, and quickly gave them the two largest steaks. "There you go, sirs. I'm sure that Master Bruce or Master Dick will give you a proper tour after dinner -- if you ever get hungry between meals, feel free to 'raid' the kitchen. Master Richard does it regularly."

"Leaving it nearly empty on his way out," Bruce rumbled.

"Hey. I'm a growing boy, I have needs," Dick said with a smirk, looking at Clark and Lex. "Try the potato thing. It's great."

It LOOKED great, Clark had to admit, even as he tentatively reached for a fork, looking at both of them. This being out of Belle Reve thing was a lot harder than he had thought it would be. Maybe it would have been easier if they had been alone, or maybe not, he couldn't tell. Maybe it was good to have someone to show them things now that they weren't there anymore.

A little guidance in the day to day things. In the whole being normal thing. Lex seemed willing to try the 'potato thing', cutting it with the side of his fork carefully, almost daringly. When the first few chews proved that it wasn't poisoned, Lex smiled sideways at Clark, eyes dancing like his lips twitched.

Maybe it was good to have help 'adjusting'. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all. They even had real knives and everything, and Clark reached for his tentatively to cut into the steak. There were eyes on them, sure, but they seemed to be waiting for approval on the food before eating themselves, maybe, so he cut quickly and took a bite.

He hadn't tasted anything so good since he'd last sat at the kitchen table with his mother. Maybe Lex couldn't even remember the last time he'd tasted anything good considering how hard it was for Clark to remember, even.

It was fantastic.

"Mmm." Lex slumped back in his chair a little, chewing as he made that happy noise. "This... is better than coffee."

Clark sputtered at that, nearly choking, and Dick got up quickly to hit him between the shoulder blades. "Sorry," he gasped out when he could breathe again. "Better than coffee? Even when it's that kind you get when we're on fieldtrips?"

Lex was still half-holding his knife as he twisted to look at Clark properly, nodding. "I think it could definitely rival it."

"Wow," Clark said, amazed. They looked at one another for a long moment before neither one could help themselves any longer, and Clark just had to laugh.

Dick shot Bruce a slightly nervous glance, but Clark and Lex missed it as they laughed.

As far as Lex was concerned, it was going to work out great.

There had been honest to God pajamas laid out on the bed when they went upstairs.

That had been something of a shock, because Lex and Clark hadn't slept in anything other than their clothes or their naked skin in years. Lionel had given them pajamas, of course, but they had been thin, scratchy things, horrible to wear, and it was easier to just wear clothes. Warmer, too.

They'd both taken care of things in the bathroom, luxuriated in warm water that stayed warm again. Lex was rubbing at his own hip, over top of a layer of warm, thick cotton fabric. It was flannel, and Lex looked decidedly pleased to be standing there by the bed in plaid pajamas.

"Shall we unveil the bed, now?" Lex hadn't pulled the covers down yet, waiting for Clark to be watching for signs of anything wrong. A little paranoia never hurt.

"I think so," Clark agreed, moving to the opposite side. Lex couldn't see Clark, but he knew that Clark would be able to see him. "Everything looks okay, Lex. We can pull the curtains back..." Or leave them closed while they slept, which would be something of an advantage since Clark could look out, but no one could look in without pulling the curtains away.

Closed in comfortably in a closed in space. Lex was used to sleeping in pure darkness, after all -- there was still the idea that it meant that no one could see you, that you were really alone after all. "I don't think we need to do that by much," Lex decided as he pushed them aside a little so he could climb onto the mattress and flip the sheets down. "I still can't believe that we're going to spend all day tomorrow... out."

"I'm not ready to think about it," Clark admitted. "It seems kind of scary." No matter how much they had wanted out before, actually being out was bringing with it certain terrifying revelations -- particularly the fact that they weren't ready to be out. He snagged down the sheets a little more and paused, frowning. "Be right back," he promised, and then the lights were out and he was in the bed with Lex.

The mattress was so soft beneath him, supportive but comfortable. It squeaked a little under his weight, and again when Lex shifted with a delighted sigh. "God..." He reached out to close the curtains he'd opened to get in, and that left him and Clark in darkness. "Everything feels so good, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," Clark agreed, moving so that his arm would be beneath Lex's head when he laid down. It wasn't necessary -- there were pillows -- but they'd been sleeping that way for a long time, and Clark wasn't sure that he could sleep without Lex's head on his arm. "It's just so strange. I feel as if we're... we're just waiting for some other shoe to drop. And I don't think it will. Do you think it'll always feel like that?" he asked.

"I hope not. And I hope it won't always feel like this -- anxious this way," Lex murmured. He stretched an arm comfortably across Clark's chest, luxuriating in the familiarity of Clark, and the novelty of a comfortable bed. "I want to do things with you, Clark. Once we're more... used to things. I want to go to college, and I want to help you get your farm back... And Julian."

"He said we could go to school. If we wanted. There are lots of schools here, Lex, and we could go together." Because Lex knew more, and was smarter, but going alone would be terrifying in ways for which neither one of them could prepare themselves. "And maybe if Julian comes, Julian could help us." Not that Julian's life had probably been much better than theirs in the matter of having any control over it himself, but at least he knew how to act amongst people. Real people.

People who weren't freaks.

Lex wasn't going to think about being a freak just then. That was something that would have to be dealt with, too, but at least Batman was a freak like they were. Bruce. Man who didn't talk too much.

"That's what I hope," Lex murmured. "We could go together, and it'd be easier for us. I don't even know what I'd like to do."

"Everything," Clark teased him. That was Lex all over, wanted to know everything and do everything, and have it all right now. "You'll want to do everything, and we'll find a way for you to do it, Lex." Find a way, because that was how things were with them. Always. A hand placed itself easily upon Lex's belly, the two of them curling into one another. "Hey," Clark said after a minute. "You think it would be good if we checked on them?" It was barely a whisper, hardly heard. "Just to see. To be sure..."

Lex laid still for a moment, and then his palm spread open, fingers rubbing against Clark over the soft fabric of his pajamas. He wanted to think the best of them, they both did -- but that other shoe. The anxious feeling. What if there was a reason for it?

"Yeah," Lex suggested, voice a bare rasp as he shifted his head a little on Clark's arm and tried to mute down his breathing. As if that would help him hear, too.

"Okay," Clark whispered, and he moved to kiss Lex's temple before he began to seriously concentrate.

It took a little while; he'd honed the skill of listening for Lionel's voice, but listening for anyone else's was different, more difficult since it was new. He finally caught the tail end of a sentence, though, and hoped it was the right one.

"...horrible, Master Bruce."

"Yes, Alfred. I know. It is. There isn't anything to do about it except what we are doing, though. Some of the others had environments that were more suited to them," Jake, for instance, "and so they'll have an easier time. Most of them weren't there as long as Lex, fortunately, and according to the records, Lex and Clark were the ones who were worst abused and still living."

"I don't know what to do with them." Dick. Even with the distortion of distance Clark could tell that much. "They're like kids. Or kittens or something. What did he do to them? They don't seem retarded or anything..."

"Language, Master Richard."

"Well, in a way, they are, though, Alfred," Bruce pointed out calmly. "They're emotionally stunted, and they're afraid to move without permission. I think it might take a very long while to get them past that. I admit, I was afraid that Luthor would have instilled some of his more... sadistic traits... in his elder son, but after the past twenty-four hours, I think it's only going to be the youngest we'll have to watch for those signs."

"The little kid that you said would come in about a week? He's just a little kid... I don't know. What're we going to do with them if they're that scared of things, Bruce?"

"Teach them not to be, Dick. Not everybody can walk a tightrope all the time. It's seeing things like this that make me know we're doing the right thing in punishing the wicked."

"Of course you do, Master Bruce. And you certainly aren't emotionally damaged yourself, so I'm sure you'll do a fine job teaching the young masters how to deal with life." If Clark didn't know better, it sounded like Alfred was mouthing off. Did butlers mouth off?

"Thank you, Alfred." And Bruce sounded sarcastic, so maybe butlers did mouth off. Who knew? "In any case, that's the reason I'm sending them out with Dick tomorrow and not with me. They have enough issues without tossing mine on top of them. Happy?"

"Very, Master Bruce."

"So... what am I supposed to do with them?"

"Take them out," Bruce suggested. "Show them Gotham. Let them buy things. They don't have any clothes except the ones that they're wearing and the pajamas Alfred found for them. I'm sure they'll want to find things that fit them comfortably and look nice. Take them to the kind of places you'd like to visit, Dick. You and Clark are about the same age. Surely you'll find some sort of interest in common."

"Mmm. Clark's kind of interesting... but to be straight with you, Bruce, I don't think they have interests. I mean, it's 9 p.m., and they've gone to bed."

"That's probably because they were being tortured when we found them last night, Dick." It was a bald statement, pushed out into the open as if it needed to be. "Green Lantern found them, and when I finally saw them, they were still covered in blood, and Luthor was still bleeding. There was a plate in Clark's chest, too, and some kind of radiation in the room that he reacts badly to." He paused. "The reasons aren't all that clear in Luthor's notes, but I'll figure it out."

So they didn't know that Clark was an alien. That was good.

"Jesus. They seemed fine at dinner -- I mean, it didn't look like they were hurting." And maybe Dick hadn't been told that they were freaks. Bruce knew without question, because he'd seen Clark's almost immediate recovery from having a hand shoved in his chest, and how Lex's body had healed from wounds to tiny cat-scratch marks.

"They aren't anymore. They were healed." Bruce didn't say how, and Clark hoped he wouldn't, but the next statement made him dread seeing Dick again. "There are files for you to read, here. It's part of the reason Luthor was experimenting on them."

"And this is supposed to help me help them to be more normal." Dick sighed then, and the room was quiet for a moment. So quiet Clark thought he'd focused his hearing accidentally elsewhere. "If I were going out with my friends, I'd take them to someplace with a lot of noise and hot people to try to meet."

"You do what you think is best," Bruce offered, "but I think that might only frighten them, Dick."

"If I may, sir," Alfred said gently, "perhaps the thing to do is to take them somewhere they would appreciate. Perhaps the Planetarium, since they have requested telescopes?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I think that's a great idea. Thanks Alfred. I'll try to think of other things. What time do you want us back by?"

"Try to get back before dark," Bruce decided. "You know how Gotham can get after that and I'd just as soon not have to come looking for any of you."

"Right, I can definitely do that." A shuffling, shifting noise, and his voice seemed to fade out from the focus point Clark had been tuned on. "I'll just read these files. Night, Bruce, Good night, Alfred..."

"Good night, Master Richard. Don't stay up too late."

That was more than enough to hear, Clark decided, turning to snuggle closer to Lex and pay attention to the room he was in. "I think it's all going to be okay," he whispered. "Honest, Lex. I think they... I think maybe they mean what they're saying." Maybe. Clark would keep listening on a regular basis, just in case.

Lex shifted a little, turning his head into the fabric of Clark's shirt. "That's really good to hear. There wasn't anything important, then?"

"We might go to a Planetarium tomorrow," Clark told him, shifting to move closer to Lex and tenderly press his mouth against one beautiful cheekbone. "Dick wanted to go somewhere with lots of hot people, he said. But I think the Planetarium would be better. Lex..."

There was only a little hint in Clark's voice, but Lex knew that hint. It was happiness, and want. It wasn't very often safe to want, but they wanted even when Lionel was watching them. Using it against them. He wasn't alive to watch them, which left Lex twice as willing to slowly press his hand down against Clark's chest, seeking for the edge of fabric. "We're finally safe. No one's going to hurt us if we do this."

"It's all right," Clark promised him in a whisper, his own palm slowly shifting to gasp Lex's hip. "It's all going to be all right, Lex. I promise." He promised, because he felt like maybe it was okay to do that now, just like maybe it was okay to shift their legs together until they were both pressed crotch to hip, thighs clasped between neighboring thighs.

It was gentle, and it felt good even with soft pajama bottoms on. Maybe because there were soft pajama bottoms on that it felt better. Lex slipped his hand under Clark's shirt, fingers stroking at Clark's broad back as he rocked a little. "Yes..." Yes, because he could breath that word, more noise than phrase, and turn his head a little to kiss Clark.

Not like anything Lionel had done, just a gentle sort of rub-rub-rub that would leave them breathless after a while, and maybe Clark would reach down and touch Lex a little, and it would be all over for them. "Oh, Lex." Lex, Lex, Lex, because Lex was everything good and sweet and worthwhile for Clark. He was everything trustworthy. He was just everything, and that steady faint rock brought whimpers and little breaths in anticipation. "Nn."

And Clark was just as much everything for Lex. He was his lifeline, his best, his only friend, and some days his sanity. Clark was worth not being angry or jealous about things. After all, Kyla might have only been there for two weeks, but she didn't have a Clark. Lex did, and Lex kissed him between noises and half-words, encouragement to the easy, comfortable rocking. His hand strayed down, barely clinging to the curve of Clark's ass beneath his pajamas -- but no further. Further meant hurt. Where it laid was just another part of their ritual.

"Yes." Yes, a breath, a whisper that tickled against Lex's cheek, and another sound that Clark buried against his face. One hand was sliding between them already, so much happiness, so much goodness in one day. It made the pleasure greater even more quickly than it would have been, and Lex could feel the faint pants of Clark's breath as it hitched.

Just the feeling of Clark's fingers brushing against him through fabric, gentle and just right as he rocked, the sensation of Clark's puffed breaths, made Lex twice as excited and so much closer. "Oh... so nice." What sex was supposed to be, a sweet, sometimes exciting rubbing that left them both happy, sated and a little sweaty, and very sleepy.

With Clark, everything was just right.

"Please. Please. Oh. Please..." Lex's hip hitched just a little more, pressing tightly against Clark, and Lex heard him gasp, a sound nearly as silent as the grave. The corresponding dampness and the faint pressure of Clark's fingers urged him onward.

Just enough for the pressure in his crotch to blossom out, a wet burst or two as he pressed against Clark's strong fingers, and clutched at Clark's backside when he muffled his groan. Pressure that nice had to be released, and Clark was best for it. It left him warm-feeling, and wanting to kiss Clark to sleep.

Tonight, he could do that. He could do it without worrying that someone had seen them, that the people on surveillance detail might have noticed their tiny squirms and their even smaller sounds. He could kiss Clark and kiss him and kiss him, and no one would come and hurt them for it.

Clark seemed to be thinking the same thing, because his lips bussed over Lex's so lightly, it barely seemed to be a kiss at all. It was comfort, Lex was sure of that much. "Mm." His fingers trailed sleepily back up Clark's back, but the fingers stayed under Clark's pajama shirt. There were lots of blankets, and they didn't have to be too careful about preserving warmth. Which was one more grand novelty.

"So good to touch you, Clark."

"Best thing ever," Clark agreed on a sweet whisper, kissing Lex again. "Nothing's good as you," he promised. "Nothing ever, Lex. Love you. Best. You're my best everything, always."

Clark's mouth still tasted a little like the sweet apple cake Alfred had served them, even despite the toothpaste they'd used before bed. Toothpaste and cake and Clark was a good combination for Lex, and he liked the play of lip to lip, and briefly, tongue to lips. Always gentle for his Clark, even though he knew other ways.

Lionel's way, which hadn't ever felt good.

"Yes. I love you... and I'm glad they let us stay together. I know you wouldn't have let them separate us, but if they had..." Then he wouldn't be laying on a nice bed with Clark's legs enmeshed against his own.

"Won't ever let you be alone," Clark promised sleepily. "Never, Lex." That was the best promise of all, the best one ever. It made both of them sigh a little, nestle into the warmth of the mattress, and sleep was going to be so easy to come that night. So easy.

It was good to be happy again.

Alfred had awakened them decently late, with a knock on both doors, and according to Clark, he hadn't waited to see if they were each in their separate rooms. But they'd run into Bruce when they left 'Clark's' room, and he hadn't quite seemed to disapprove.

Nor had he seemed to really approve. He probably thought there was something wrong with them, if not with what they did. And there'd been a fleeting moment of worry for them, but Bruce was 'busy' for the day, and Dick offer to take them to a restaurant for breakfast. Said he knew just the place to take them.

'Just the place' turned out to be a little diner somewhere in the middle of downtown Gotham, a place with records on the wall, and waitresses on skates, and the entire kitschy nine yards of fifties theme.

Clark loved it.

Lex had liked it, too, and the waitress hadn't scared him too badly. She was really chipper and friendly, and couldn't tell that they were freaks. Dick had seemed to know what to order, too, and had easily suggested things to them. So many choices, and they were allowed to make them.

But if breakfast had been great, the Planetarium show at eleven a.m. had been the best.

They'd spent an hour in the dark, holding hands and staring upwards in fascination. It wasn't quite as good as being outside at night, but it was still wonderful simply because of all the things they were being told. Other people had the same interests they did, interests that didn't make them strange or weird.

Lex had liked the little facts that they didn't always include in texts, the little stories about astronomers who'd observed the things they were observing. Black holes, missing noses and all sorts of fabulous things. The little conversation about SETI had made Lex want to laugh.

He knew life existed from other planets. He was holding an alien's hand when they walked out the door of the Planetarium.

Dick seemed okay with them, with being their guide, even if he did insist that Clark ride shotgun.

"So," Clark said excitedly once they were back in the car. It was black and sleek and he had no idea what it was, but it was apparently impressive. Everybody kept staring at it, anyway. "Where to next?"

"I was thinking of taking you guys to the big science store first. They have telescopes, but they also have a lot of random things -- it's very... nature-y." Which wasn't a word as far as Lex knew. He shifted forwards in his space in the middle seat, a hand on Clark's shoulder.

"That sounds good. Thanks for taking us to the planetarium -- I can't remember the last time I went to one." He could, sort of. A school fieldtrip when he was eight or so, and at the time he hadn't quite appreciated it properly.

Now, he could appreciate it so much more, not only because he was older, but also because of Clark.

"That would be cool." Clark's smile was huge and brilliant. "We can pick out any telescopes, right? Any at all?" Knowing Clark, he'd probably want something inexpensive, something that reminded him of his father as opposed to one with all the bells and whistles.

Lex wanted one with bells and whistles just so he could play with them. But any one would make him happy, and even if they just got one between them he'd be happy. For Clark's sake.

"Yeah. Any one at all. And then we're going to go some places to get you guys clothes."

"What kind?" The descriptions seemed to make them even happier than the actual buying, but Dick wasn't letting that bother him. He seemed okay with it. Maybe reading their files had made it easier for him. "I like red," Clark said wistfully. "And blue. And sometimes green."

Mostly because Lex liked him in green. Something about his eyes, Lex told him, and Clark supposed Lex knew; after all, Lex looked at him more than Clark looked at himself.

"There's a store on the corner of Main and St. Paul -- they've got all sorts of things. Jeans and shoes, and shirts. Bruce says you need everything, and jackets, too, right? Do either of you have watches?"

"I used to," Lex shrugged a little. "Lionel took it from me a few weeks ago. I'm sure Julian knows where it is..."

Clark's startled face turned towards him. "You didn't tell me that he took your watch! Lex!" Not that Clark could have done anything about it at all, but... The thought that he had let something hurt Lex that terribly. The mere thought was worse than physical pain.

Lex sat back a little, hand still near Clark's shoulder. "It wouldn't have done any good, and we'd already been in enough trouble, Clark." But his watch, the watch his mother had given to him, was very important. Dreams of old were stored in there, beneath the quartz face and above the coin, Lex's hopes for life before everything had gone to shit.

"I'm sure Julian knows where Father tucked it away. I know he wouldn't destroy it."

Maybe he could get those dreams back, in more than a metaphorical sense.

"You should call him," Clark pressed. "Ask. Make sure that he brings it with him, if he comes. When he comes."

"So you guys know he'll be coming?" Dick half-asked.

"Bruce... hinted," Lex answered. Dick didn't need to know that Clark could hear him. Or maybe he did know.

"He said he'd talk to Pam," Clark added hopefully. "We like Julian. He's always nice, and he always has news about what's going on in the world. We've missed that."

And Lex had liked Pam, too, except... He had a suspicion that she'd known that Lex wasn't insane, and she hadn't done anything for him. Not that she could have, and Julian really needed someone to balance out Lionel, but.

It was still there, one more thing for Lex to worry at in his mind. "He's my little brother -- he should be with... what's left of our family."

"Right, well. I understand that. According to Bruce," Dick drawled, "everything should be figured out in a week or two."

"We could see Julian soon then." Clark smile was brilliant. Usually, they had only seen the younger boy every three or four months, so it was something special to see him again so quickly. "Telescopes, clothes, Julian. Wow."

"We're on a winning streak," Lex decided as he leaned forwards again. They were on Main already, so he kept his eyes open for a science type of store.

"It's not really that big of a deal, guys. You know that, don't you? It's normal to get things like that, things you want and need." Dick flicked them a glance, expression almost worried.

"Maybe that was normal five years ago." Actually, it hadn't been. Want had never been high on the list at his house. Necessities had come first, even though Clark remembered having things that other kids his age had. Just not necessarily as much or as often. "Now it's something special. Different."

"I really wish we had've known about you guys before..." Dick almost said something, but they were turning the corner, onto St. Paul, and there was the store on the corner. "We're going to park around back. It's two stories of... stuff. Stuff doesn't make up for having some shitty years, but it can help sometimes."

"We don't want stuff so much as to do things," Lex hedged. "We, all of us, had these dreams, things you people could just do with a little hard work. We only want to make them reality, the way they should have been."

"School," Clark agreed, "and being able to wear jeans and watching the news. Knowing who the president is, and what kind of foreign policy is going on, wondering if your friends are still alive out there somewhere, or knowing if they're gone and dead..."

"Going back to your old home." Farm. Clark's farm, which Lex knew he wanted very badly. "It's not much, but... it's a great deal, and we want it."

"I can't blame you guys," Dick murmured, frowning a little as he pulled into the parking lot. It was packed, so there was some maneuvering before he parked. "Once things have settled, Bruce'll help you do all of that. But maybe you need a few weeks of just... being out first, you know?"

"Maybe," Clark agreed. "I mean, we know things aren't... We know that we're not ready to just be out. To be like other people yet. It'll be hard, and lots of work."

"You're willing to try, right?" Dick parked a little crookedly, and put the brake on as he grinned at them both in the rearview mirror. Lex decided he didn't like rearview mirrors much; too much like being watched all the time. "When was the last time either of you went in a big store? It might be sort of crowded."

"Um..." Clark considered the matter. "Well, we used to go into Fordman's," he offered. "But that was a long time ago, and Dad only wanted to go when there wouldn't be many folks."

"The coffee place Father used to take us to was kind of crowded sometimes," Lex offered. "But they knew us. Who Father was."

"Okay. You two'll stick close to me until you're comfortable?" Dick pulled his keys from the ignition, still smiling at them almost sadly. Lex didn't know why Dick was sad -- he and Clark were happy about it all.

"Sure," Clark promised. "We'll stay close. Hey, speaking of coffee, could we get some? Later, I mean? Maybe?" Because Lex loved coffee, and Clark loved Lex. And, truth be told, Clark kind of liked it the way that Lex made it. Sweet and frothy and fluffy with all sorts of neat flavors.

"Sure," Dick promised. "I know a great place, where a lot of my friends hang out. They make the best Starbucks knock-offs, in more flavors."

Now, that had promise, Lex decided as he opened his own door with a little trouble, and got out. "Great. Thanks for driving us around..."

"We really appreciate it," Clark tacked on, moving to climb out when Lex did. They didn't seem capable of doing anything separate from one another, and it made Dick shiver faintly, at the thought.

"We'll go there after this, then," Dick decided, hitting the remote to lock the car. It made a little beep as the alarm armed itself, making Clark jump.

"Wow," he said shakily.

Clark jumped because Lionel had gotten pavlovian at them both for a while, and though the interest had faded for Lionel, the effects still lingered. Lex reached for Clark's hand casually, like he did it every day. As if they were just a normal couple.

They looked like a normal couple, maybe a little love-sick, to Dick's eyes.

It was disheartening, in a way, maybe because it was sad to see two grown people so skittish, and maybe... Maybe because Clark was just so goddamned pretty. "Should we go in now?" Clark whispered.

"Yeah," Dick smiled a little, and he started off ahead of them, mindful that they were following him around the building and towards the entrance. "The coffee place is just a block down, so we can walk from here when we're done."

Clark was so pretty. He walked so smoothly, he looked like a big slab of hunk, the sort that Dick would've been more than happy to party with. And Lex... looked too pale, bald, and with such old eyes. Old, frightening eyes; Clark's were only a little old. Who knew what they each thought behind them?

"So, what else is in this place? Other than telescopes?" Lex asked carefully.

"Lots of stuff. Fun little kinetic things, stuff that glows, microscope kits, star charts, all kinds of stuff. It's got to be seen to be believed, really. I think you'll like 'em all, though," Dick offered.

"Let's go see!" Clark seemed terribly excited.

Lex laughed a little, grinning crookedly at Clark as they turned another corner. "We might look a little slowly, Dick. I mean, if there's no rush."

"Nah, no rush at all. I'll play with the kinetic things," he promised. Bruce would have his head on a platter if he rushed them. Hell, the way they got so excited over something so little, he'd chop it off and give it to Bruce himself!

Clark looked at the store and took a deep breath. "Okay," he told Lex. "I'm ready when you are." That was the only signal he was inclined to give, and probably the one that meant the most.

Waiting for Lex, deferring to the older boy. The constant switching of who made the decisions left Dick confused, but he supposed that they'd figured it out years ago. Lex gave Clark one nod, then laid his free hand on the brass handle of one of the double doors, and pulled it open.

To chaos.

Well, it wasn't that bad to Dick. Clark and Lex were obviously boggled as they stepped out of the way of hurrying customers, green eyes seeking reassurance from Lex before Clark slid himself closer protectively. "Wow. This many people like science stuff?" he asked, a little startled.

"Yeah," Dick confirmed as he shadowed behind them while they took in the organized clutter of the store. "Telescopes are upstairs, all right? We can head up there last, if you like. I'm pretty sure Bruce would like it if you got some other things -- if you know, anything catches your eyes."

Everything caught Lex's eyes, but the walls were calling to him, telling him to cling to them as he explored and stay away from the crush of people. There were all sorts of things to look at -- crystals and craft kits and stuffed animals, and little trinket toys, and...

"Oh!" Clark exclaimed. "Look, Lex!" The stuffed animals were calling a little more loudly to Clark, namely a black and white holstein with a flower clutched in her mouth. He turned pleading eyes on the bald man as his fingers went to tentatively touch her. "Please?"

"I don't know," Lex answered honestly. He did goad Clark to at least touch it, even as his own eyes wandered over the plethora of things there. It was a lot like the store where Lionel had taken them, except that they'd been so nervous that he and Clark combined had only had the heart and nerve to ask for the ceiling stars. "We don't have to hurry, remember. There's a great deal to look at..."

"But you can have the cow," Dick told them, shoving his hands into his pockets. The sheer joy that crossed Clark's face was nearly unbearable, especially when he picked it up and carefully tucked it under an arm.

"I know there's a lot, but..." Clark petted the cow and shrugged. That seemed to say it all for him.

Lex smiled a little, then lifted his head a little to look the other stuffed toys over. He was almost twenty four years old, far too old for any of that... "Let's go look at the magnets?" he half-asked Clark. It was okay that Dick was shadowing them; no one was looking at them funny yet, the way they did when Lionel took them all out.

"Cool! Magnets!" Clark looked around for them quickly. "They're over there!" he declared, catching Lex's hand again. "You don't want one of these?" he asked just to be sure.

"No." Lex squeezed Clark's hand to let him know that he was really okay with not pawing through the stuffed toys, and turned away to head towards the magnet toys and sculptures that Clark had spotted. "Those are much more interesting."

"Because they have scientific applications." Clark was teasing him, but it was a good sort of tease. They felt okay, sneaking through little places to get to the magnets so that the crowd of people wouldn't touch them or get too close. Dick, on the other hand, parted slightly from them to walk down the wide aisles.

"Father used to have one of the little men ones in his office at LuthorCorp. I remember spending a lot of time when I was little trying to stack them end on end. It's not as scientific an interest as you'd think," Lex grinned at his friend as they neared them. There were kinetic things, clacking balls, swinging dolphins, a clock that had the time ticked off with balls, and...

Lex's free hand almost immediately reached for the model that was on display; the heavy plastic and metal base with a pile of metal stars arranged atop it. He didn't pick it up, no, but he picked up a few of the stars and perched them on the already perilous-looking edges. And they stuck.

"Ohhhh." Clark was amazed, pleased to see that, utterly struck by it. "We should have one for you, Lex," he decided, seeing a box beneath it. Dick had said they could have anything they wanted, and maybe, maybe, it was true. And if it was true, then the star-magnets weren't so much to ask for, surely? "I'll bet you were the cutest little boy ever," Clark decided, reaching up to touch his cheek.

A cow and star magnets and telescopes; and the promise of coffee later, and other things. Plus they'd already done the planetarium and breakfast in a really nice place. "I looked a lot like Julian," Lex drawled as he leaned into Clark's hand a little, drawing his fingers back from the display model. "Only his hair is curlier than mine was. Hey, remember that I remember you when you were just a kid. Did you have a thing for cows then?"

Clark gave him a broad grin, affection for Lex flooding through him. "I hated having to go and help Dad hook up the milking machines first thing in the morning. There was this one cow? Every morning, she'd try to lick my head."

"I wonder what you must've tasted like to her if she always tried it." Random, happy memories they could finally share without fear of Lionel turning it back against them, using it against them. Lex shifted his hand from Clark's fingers, and slipped his arm casually around Clark's waist. "When we're done... getting used to things again. We'll get your farm back.

"That sounds perfect. I want so much to take you there, Lex. Not just because it's a good place, but because it would be perfect for us. I just know it."

"I trust that you're right..." Lex leaned into Clark, peering at the other shelves, when he heard a throat clear.

"Hi, can I help you today?"

"Um." Clark turned slightly, putting himself between Lex and the mysterious person. "We... we're looking for telescopes?" And where was Dick?

He'd abandoned them? Wait, no, Lex spied him over by the glow in the dark stuff, and relaxed a little.

"Okay, well, the telescopes are right upstairs. Is there anything else I can help you with?" the solicitous man asked. "Do you want help choosing one?"

"It's okay," Clark hurried to say. "We'll get our friend and go pick one out together. Okay, Lex?" Green eyes glanced at him, Clark's nervousness shining from them.

"Right. But thanks for offering." Lex soothed Clark with an idle stroke at his side, and then pulled at him to head over to Dick. There was a ball with pink-blue sparks shooting around within the glass, and Dick was toying with it with his hand.

He decided it was better to try to figure out what that was than to deal with the salesman.

"I don't know that I'm going to get used to this people thing any time soon," Clark whispered, the sound just barely heard over the bustle of people in the store. "That made me nervous. Like I did something bad."

"I know. It wasn't just you." He'd been half-afraid that they weren't allowed to test the models there were out for playing with, or that someone hadn't liked them being there and had complained. And maybe that was why they'd been talked to. "Hey, Dick? Clark and I want to go look at the telescopes now."

"Yeah?" Dick pulled his hand away from the globe, but grinned at them. "Okay, let's head up there. There's posters up there, too -- maybe you guys want to get a couple for your rooms?"

Rooms. Well, they did have two, and maybe they could put one to use for something Lex would like, tinkering with mechanical things or... well, just anything. "Okay." Clark remembered posters, had liked them, especially with cartoons on them.

"So, did you guys see anything else you liked?" Dick asked conversationally as he herded them carefully towards the wide spiral stairs that went up to the second floor.

"A magnet sculpture. Do people who work in stores always come up to you and ask if they can help?"

"We thought maybe somebody had complained or wanted us to leave or something," Clark added with a little shiver. "Because he asked us if we needed anything..."

"That's pretty normal," Dick tried to soothe. "It's their job to ask people if they need help. If you don't, you kind of shuffle off and go 'No, just looking -- but thanks,' and they'll leave you alone."

"I'll remember that next time." Because they'd already known where the telescopes were, and being told where the telescopes were had prompted a need to go and be there.

"I kept thinking they were afraid we were going to steal something," Clark admitted, mouth tugging downwards. He remembered Fordman's and a candy bar, and the shame of being caught and punished. "So. I was a little scared."

"No, that's what security cameras are for," Dick told them easily. "The guy was just trying to be honestly helpful, and there'll probably be another one over... yeah, see the woman with the green smock and the name-tag, over by the telescopes and things? She's probably the person to talk to about them."

She looked a little harmless in Lex's eyes, so he started to walk towards the telescopes. There were so many models out, displayed for people to look at; wood and metal and plastic ones, and at a glance, Lex could only remember the names for the big scopes at the observatories. Like Arecibo, but that was a Radio telescope and not what they were looking for.

"Hey, look at this one!" Clark called excitedly. "This one's just like the one Dad gave me for my thirteenth birthday!"

Right before he'd come to Belle Reve, and to Lex.

"Oh, wow. That's so cool. It's got better magnification than that one, but it looks just like it, and Lex, can I have this one? Please?"

Sleek white metal with black edges and caps, and a little sight attached atop it. "Don't you want to look at all of them first?" Lex half-teased as he let Clark drag him over to that special one. He didn't need a telescope of his own; half of the fun would be in switching off who was looking. Sharing, with Clark.

The way those green eyes turned on him, pleading, said that Clark knew quite well he was teasing. "Pleaaase, Lex?" Lex wasn't the one paying for it, but Lex was the important one. He was the one whose opinion counted.

Dick looked a little put out, and walked over to the woman in the smock to ask questions -- which neither Clark or Lex seemed inclined to do -- occasionally gesturing to the telescope that Clark and Lex were standing beside.

As long as Clark looked at Lex quite that way, there was little chance that he'd deny him. "Let's look at the specs. There're other ones that look like this design..."

"Okay," Clark agreed, extraordinarily happy. That was all it took for Clark; memories and Lex's agreement. Lex's anything, and Clark didn't even try to keep his hand from creeping into Lex's. "Hey, Lex? You're the best ever. I don't tell you that enough."

"You tell me pretty often," Lex countered, and squeezed Clark's fingers. A momentary check proved that Clark still had his cow, and he knew he was still carrying his own boxed magnet set. Maybe they should have gotten a basket...

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," the lady in the smock greeted as she came towards them with Dick beside her. A little reassuring. "Your friend told me that you were looking for telescopes. Do you need any help?"

Clark looked at Lex shyly. "We want one that looks like this," Clark said softly. "Except really strong? We want to be able to see a whole lot with it. He.. our friend, he said that Gotham is kind of overcast a lot?"

"New to the city?" She smiled, and leaned past them a little to look at the model they were standing beside. "You get used to it after a while, but even a strong telescope can't get past clouds when they cover the whole sky. However..."

"However?" Clark looked so utterly hopeful, just a little dreamy as he touched the telescope.

"There's a model in the back, a variant of this one," she told them, "that I think would suit you well. It comes with the tripod, of course."

"That sounds great," Lex encouraged. "Can we see it?"

"Please?" Clark asked politely, so hopeful that Lex couldn't help squeezing his hand. "Do you think it'll fit in the car, Lex?" They were supposed to get clothes, too, so Clark wanted to be sure there would be plenty of room.

"Oh, Mr. Grayson has arranged for whatever you choose to be delivered," the saleswoman told them agreeably. "All payment is covered as well, of course."

They'd already known that, but. The delivery part was nice, and when Lex glanced over to Dick, he just smiled a little smugly. It reminded Lex, vaguely, of Byron when he was in a good mood.

Dick was an okay guy.

"Great." Lex sighed that out, stroking Clark's fingers. "It's probably easier that way. Can we still see it first?"

"Of course. If you'll just come this way?"

Clark let out a huff of breath, one that was relieved and pleased all at once. "This is so great! Everything here is so cool, and we'll have a telescope again and everything!"

And not get in trouble for sleeping together in the same bed, for enjoying themselves while they were there, for going up to see the sky, for... anything, Lex decided suddenly. They couldn't get in trouble for much of anything as long as they were good. "I really like this being 'free' thing," Lex whispered, barely a sigh as they followed after the saleswoman.

"Yeah," Clark agreed softly. "Yeah, Lex. It's the best thing ever." The only thing better would be home and having his parents back, and since that wasn't happening, Clark would be glad to settle.

Given how good things were with Lex, it wasn't really settling. Settling implied that you were unhappy with things, but didn't want to complain, and Lex made him happy. Lex also leaned into him when they walked into the back, full of crowded shelves and too-tall ceilings. "Why don't you both wait right there and I'll bring it out?"

"Oh, well..." Clark peeked at Lex. "Okay. Can we look at some of the other things here, then? We won't go far," he promised the lady, nodding slowly.

"Sure, look around. I'm pretty sure I'll be able to find you two," she told them as she rounded a corner and disappeared.

"Let's go back to the telescopes, Clark? Or anything on the second floor? I don't like it much in here..."

"Okay," Clark agreed. "Let's go back somewhere you like. I still think you need a fluffy of your own..." The cow gently made its way towards Lex, flower and all. "They're nice. Promise. Maybe they have an alien one."

It made Lex's mouth twitch a little. "All right. I'll at least look for one. Maybe Julian will like it," he half-agreed and half-suggested as they came out and then moved to pass Dick by.

"Hey, where're you guys going? Aren't you going to get a telescope?"

"It's too... crowded in there." It was sad that Dick didn't have the sense to be scared of crowded in places like that. Lex had learned his lessons about cluttered lit spaces like that pretty damn fast. "We're going to wait downstairs by where Clark got his cow. She's going to get it from the back."

"Oh..." Dick seemed a little confused about that, but his lack of sense wasn't Lex's problem. It just prompted Lex to clutch Clark's hand more tightly as the other boy moved a little towards the nearby wall.

"We want to maybe get another fluffy," Clark offered shyly, cheeks gleaming at the statement. "Please."

"Sure, whatever you guys want," Dick acquiesced -- he still seemed confused, but that was all right. "You want to look around more? If the telescope looks like that one you saw, Clark, do you want me to get it and have it delivered?"

Clark nodded. "It's important," he declared. "It should look like that one, okay? I know you won't let her get it wrong."

Dick smiled, a smile just for Clark. "Sure -- it won't go wrong. Don't worry. Weren't you going to look at posters, too?"

"Oh! Yeah! Where are those?" Clark asked, beaming at him. "We can get some of those, too, okay, Lex?"

"Right over there," Dick told them. There was something in his tone that tweaked Lex, just a little. More of that sadness he'd seen in the Flash. It wasn't their fault or anything they could control that they were having trouble, and sadness didn't help make things easier.

Telling them where the posters were? Much easier. Lex grinned sideways at Clark, and declared, "Maybe they have star posters."

"That would be the best thing ever," Clark agreed, heading off in that direction with Lex just beside him. It was easier, better than waiting for the lady, and much better than seeing that faint sorrow on Dick's face. They weren't children to be pitied.

They were strong.

And maybe one day, they'd be whole.

It almost made sense that the first whole week after arriving at Wayne Manor, it had either rained or been unbearably cloudy and windy. A nice new telescope, just waiting to be used, and... It had taken a week for the sky to clear to bright, cloudless crystal.

Lex wasn't letting Clark go out without putting his jacket on first. Even though they both knew -- and Lex really knew -- that Clark didn't need things like jackets. But it was dark green heavy denim, with a lot of pockets; Clark knew that Lex liked it when he wore it.

Lex had said something deep, warm and approving when he'd seen Clark put it on; there was no doubt that the older man adored that color on him, because while Clark had picked out lots of red, Lex had chosen several shirts in green for him. Clark had taken them, too, and smiled all the while in delight. Just like Lex had taken the plum colors that Clark had chosen for him, even now wearing a heavy deep purple sweater in some kind of soft chenille.

"Dick was going to set up the tripod for us, so you have to carry the telescope itself up," Lex prodded as he finished checking that Clark's coat was buttoned up. Not that he had to, but Clark suspected it was an excuse to pet and touch him as much as possible.

That was okay with Clark.

"I'll carry it," Clark promised, because he knew that even if he tripped or fell, he could twist quickly enough that the telescope wouldn't be harmed. "You have to bring the blankets, though." Those were for Lex, and Clark wasn't about to let him escape without them.

Something to sit on, because the 'widow's walk' was gritty and hard, and something to wrap close in if they got comfortable. "Sure. Bruce just left for the night, I think, and Dick was going to go with him, so it's just us and Alfred tonight."

"Then maybe we should go down and make sandwiches. So we won't bother him," Clark suggested. They had quickly learned that it really was okay to go into the kitchen, and they still delighted in the opportunity to make their own food. Not that they'd tried to make much yet, but they hadn't ruined any of the simple things they'd tried so far. Soup and toast and sandwiches, and cookies that already had the dough pre-made. Alfred was nice to them. He even was teaching them how to cook -- with an insistence on starting simple. Things like making sure pre-made cookies didn't burn, how to tell when things were cooked well enough. Browning meat and cooking canned soup.

It was sort of strange, to Clark at least, that Alfred knew what to do with them more than Dick or Bruce did.

"I think he'd appreciate that," Lex decided as he folded the two fleece blankets he'd grabbed.

"We can leave all of this at the foot of the stairs," Clark decided happily. "And I think there's bologna." With mustard and Hellman's and even if the cheese was fancy gouda, it still made him think of lunch with his dad when his mom was in town and not cooking.

Lex pushed the door open, then held it open for Clark so he could carry the telescope out first. "And the nice bread? We should see tomorrow if Alfred will show us how to make espresso the right way. I think I figured it out this morning, but Bruce didn't want to taste test to tell me if it was right."

"That's because Bruce is a wuss. I'll taste test it later for you, okay? I'm sure it must have been good, Lex. Everything you make is good."

"I thought it tasted all right, but..." Lex shrugged as they walked. Even with the house almost to themselves, they stuck close because it was what they did. "You know. We still don't have a strong base to judge what's normal on yet."

"I guess." Clark really wasn't sure normal mattered all that much so long as they could function in public without revealing their abnormalities. "Still. I think if you made it, it's probably good."

"Do you want some tomorrow? Alfred said that it's good with cocoa." Lex half-held onto the hand-rail as he walked down the steps, even though if he did fall, Clark could catch him and the telescope. "And Dick's going to show us how to use his computer. Tomorrow looks like it'll be a good day."

"You mean the internet and everything?" Clark had missed that conversation, but the way his interest perked said quite a lot about the pleasure that implied. "That's so cool!"

"Cooler than the twenty four hour news channels." Lex laid his blankets down and off to one side of the bottom of the staircase. "Which I didn't think could be beat by... anything."

Very gently, Clark rested their telescope on the blankets. "Yeah." The first time they'd seen that, they'd spent the next twenty-four hours awake just to prove to themselves that it stayed on for twenty-four hours.

Somewhere around then Bruce got a little frustrated and finally made them go to bed. But wow, it was so different from what they'd remembered. Everything had changed so much in five years, and Lex's many years spent there.

"I'm glad that Bruce is nicer than he seemed at first. I hope everyone else got so lucky with who they were placed with."

"I think Jake did," Clark decided. "I mean, that guy... he was really the king of Atlantis. Really."

Clark knew Lex knew, but the wonderment at that was still palpable. After all, Clark remembered some pretty way out things and made-up stories from his childhood, but they weren't supposed to exist. Atlantis wasn't supposed to be true.

But neither were people like him and Lex.

"I hope he figures out how to get a camera to work while he's down there," Lex grinned as they headed for the kitchen. "I'd like to see it."

"Maybe one day we could go. I could take you there, even." Clark could hold his breath for almost forever, and there had to be ways. "I'd like to see your face when you got a good look at everything."

"It must be like a huge mythology book. Think of what the existence of a place like that would do to people's religious concepts." Think of what Clark would do to people's religious concepts. "And Diana said she was an Amazon, but... I still wonder why she has both breasts."

The word alone made Clark blush, as if it was something forbidden. "I don't know," he decided. "Maybe she'd look funny, so she's got socks stuffed in her. You know. Or something? Like Tina used to do before she got any."

"I think Lionel got her bras a size too big so she'd have to stuff them with socks," Lex sighed. He tugged at Clark's hand, passing by Alfred in the big, looming den with the TV set on low. Alfred was probably reading, and from the crumbs, would know they'd eaten.

"Maybe," Clark admitted, following Lex with all the faithfulness of a puppy. "Probably, even. But maybe that's why the lady looks like she has two, Lex."

"Maybe someday when I'm feeling more daring, I'll ask her." Worst she could do was hit him for it, right? And he healed fast, even if the idea of Lex being harmed hurt Clark.

"Or maybe we could just talk to Jodie. I mean, that would be the logical place to start," Clark decided as they slipped down the hall towards the kitchen. "Maybe she would know."

"Do you think that they've found a way to help her yet?" Lex's voice fell a little mellower, less jauntily conversational. Jodie's health was a serious topic, after all, and Lex, despite his general dislike of women, had liked her.

"I hope so." Clark frowned. "The lady seemed to think that she could do it, and I reckon Bruce would tell us if anything was going bad wrong." Or maybe not, because Bruce seemed to want them to lead normal lives, which was hard enough without their extra worries. "Maybe we should ask."

"Do you think he'd tell us?" Lex pulled open the door for Clark, held it open so he could go in first. The kitchen was as vast as the rest of the house, and conspicuously tidy. There was just something about a clean kitchen that made Lex shiver reason.

Not Clark, because his mother had been a little obsessive about everything in her kitchen having a place and being in it. "I think, yeah. If we ask. But even if he doesn't, we've asked the question, and that's the important part, isn't it?"

"Trying, yes." Lex had told Clark that a thousand times when they'd been put away, but it'd been hard the past year or two for him to bother trying. Now he had to learn that again, or Clark had to re-teach him how.

Lex pulled away to get the plates -- paper, because they didn't want to break the nice ones that belonged on the table -- and a thermos. "Do you want me to make the tea, the instant coffee, or cocoa?"

"Tea," Clark decided. "They've got some stuff that's kind of orangey tasting. I like that." Especially when it was sweet. "Is that okay with you, too? And turkey for sandwiches."

"Out of bologna? We could talk Alfred into letting us go shopping with him. At least we could carry things." Lex plugged the kettle in, then dug out the box of tea from the cupboard.

"That would be great!" Clark answered excitedly. "I like bologna. Especially fried. You ever eat fried bologna, Lex?" He was searching through the refrigerator now, just to see if... Ah, yes. He'd been wrong. There was some bologna.

"Fried bologna? No. The most mundane thing I used to eat before was pizza. With sausage and green peppers." He could almost taste it in vague memory, but then it was gone, because the tea-bags were pretty strong-smelling when he opened their packets.

"I'll make some, then," Clark beamed, altogether pleased. "Dad used to make sandwiches with two slices and a piece of Velveeta, and they were so good." So good, in fact, that Clark would probably make three or four just for himself. He wondered if Lex would like one or two. "How many do you want?"

"Just one, if you'll share a half of one of yours with me. I don't really need a whole two," Lex decided. There was a pause as he poured the hot water into the big thermos, and put the requisite number of bags into it. "So, it's like a grilled cheese sandwich?"

"Kind of," Clark declared, pulling out a large frying pan and scrounging around for cooking spray. The bologna was on the counter, and by the time Lex looked up from setting the thermos together properly, Clark had nine slices of bologna neatly laid out with faint slices cut in even thirds around the edges. "The bologna is so hot that it melts the cheese and it's really really good."

"You amaze me with the practical things you remember," Lex murmured sincerely as he headed over to the stove to get a closer look at Clark and what he was doing. The tea would steep while Clark showed him that, then he could add a little milk and enough sugar to make them both happy.

"Ah. Here it is." Once the pan was sprayed, Clark dropped the slices of meat in, four since the pan was pretty big. They started to sizzle very shortly, probably aided by a quick blast from Clark's eyes. That thought alone made Lex smile. Who needed to cook with gas when you had a Clark? "See? The edges will curl up a little, I think. I seem to remember them doing that."

"Do you turn them over, or just do the one side?" Lex was going to remember how to do that; learning to cook, even simple things, made 'life' much easier. There wouldn't always be an Alfred there to make good meals.

Which was a heartening thought. They'd only been free for a tiny amount of time, and Lex already felt like they'd gained so much ground. And, Julian would be there soon.

"Turn them over," Clark said happily, reaching in with his fingers to do just that. It was something that anyone else would have used a spatula to do; Clark had his own way of doing things, though. "And when they're brown on both sides, you take 'em up and put 'em on paper towels, so that all of the extra greasy stuff is off, you know? From where you fry it."

"I'll get the towels. If you're blotting up the grease, doesn't it make the bologna better than if you didn't fry it? The grease comes out, right?" Or maybe it didn't work that way.

"Well, I don't know," Clark admitted. "I don't think there's lots of grease in there naturally, but once you fry it, it's got the grease you used all on it. I like mine wiped off. Dad..." He paused, voice going soft. "Dad liked it all hot and a little greasy. I'll bet he'd have gotten really bad heart problems later in life."

Lex laid the towels down beside Clark on the counter, then slipped his arms loosely around his waist. Low, so his own fingers wouldn't get near the stove. Fried bologna sounded good, but fried hands sounded less so. "Maybe. Maybe he would have, maybe he wouldn't. I bet he'd be proud to see that you remembered one of his favorite foods."

"Yeah." Clark gave him a smile that said he knew what Lex was doing. He leaned his head back and rubbed faintly against Lex. "Hey, you want to check the tea? I'll have everything made by the time you're done."

The rub was nice, even if Lex really wanted a kiss. Not the most comfortable position for it, though, and he wasn't comfortable yet with asking or pushing too far. "All right. Because I can't cheat and speed up the tea," he teased as he pulled away from Clark.

Cheating seemed to be a good thing, because Clark swirled around and kissed him, giving him just what he wanted, what Clark obviously wanted. "Cheating is okay."

"Yes." Lex leaned into Clark for a moment more, kissed him back and then some. There was something warming about kissing Clark, the way it contrasted to all of the other kisses he'd had in his life. From Lionel. And Desiree. There wasn't any pain or shame to associate with it, just a mellow happiness that didn't leave him when he finally pulled back. "I like it when you cheat that way."

"Then I'll do it more often," Clark promised, swirling away a moment later and coming back with stacked sandwiches. "Ready when you are. We can go get the telescope?"

Lex was still scooping sugar into the big thermos, but when Clark got to him he screwed it tight real quick, and started to shake it to mix the sugar in. "Yes. I'm ready for an evening up watching the stars."

"I've missed them," Clark agreed. "I hate that it's so overcast here. I wish we were closer to Metropolis. At least there, we know the sky's usually clear enough for nightly gazing."

"I think it could be pollution. Or maybe just naturally bad weather?" Lex kept shaking the thermos a little as he walked back out of the kitchen

"The worst weather EVER," Clark decided. "I don't think I'd like it if it was pollution. I mean, that wouldn't be good for anybody, right?" He grinned. "Dick and Bruce would wander around with air masks on or something, right?"

"Maybe they do it when we're not watching," Clark was teased as they headed past the living room where Alfred still seemed to be. "It's probably just bad weather. I wonder what it's like here in winter?"

"Cold and wet," Clark decided. "You'll have to wear a hat. we'll find you something really soft, okay? Like your jacket thing is soft." Plus, purple chenille looked nice on Lex. It was warm and felt good to the touch.

"Jacket thing?" Lex laughed, bumping himself gently into Clark as they walked. "Sweater. But, you're right. This city probably never gets snow, just rain."

Clark just laughed at him, though, the two passing by Alfred quietly. "Lots of wet and nasty."

"Did it snow a lot at the farm, Clark?" He gave the thermos one last shake, and clutched it close. "Hey, I'll carry the sandwiches, too. And the blankets, since all together it's not much compared to the telescope."

"Not a lot. Just enough that it made you smile is all. And made the cows cold. It was clear more often, and the best part of all was that the telescope was in the barn, so I could be warm and see outside," Clark said happily.

"They heat barns?" Lex gave him a curious little glance as the stairway came into view again. "Sort of like heating garages?"

Clark grinned. "No. But Dad had modified the loft for me. He said that boys, especially teenage boys, needed a space where they could have time for themselves.. so to speak."

"So to speak?" Lex grinned back a little. "Seems like he was speaking from experience. You've said before it was sort of like having a second bedroom?"

"Aside from the fact that every friend I had wanted to wander through there? Actually, yeah. I used to sleep up there a lot. Among. Um. Other things." The way that Clark smiled said a lot.

Even though it said a lot, Lex still grinned a little, and prodded, "Other things?" while he took the sandwiches from Clark.

"Things you and I do sorts of things, yeah," Clark admitted, letting him have the sandwiches. That was easy enough, and then he leaned down to gather the telescope and Lex's blanket, despite Lex's urge to take it up himself.

"It's not as good by yourself. Doesn't... feel." Of course when he'd done that, Lionel had always been watching him, making it dirtier than it was. "You know what I mean. It's too easy to think about things I'd rather not."

"Yeah," Clark agreed softly. "I remember once, a long time ago. When it was nicer to think about things and do it. Just... things changed a lot. I'm sorry, Lex," he apologized hurriedly. "I'm sorry you never had the chance to just enjoy yourself."

Lex hugged the thermos to himself a little as he started up the stairs. "In a way, I am, too. But I could be bitter about it for all eternity, or I can enjoy that I'm... enjoying myself now. With you. Here, or wherever we end up going. You've really been there for me."

"I always will be," Clark promised him warmly, right behind him. "You're my Lex. Without you, I wouldn't be anything at all." He knew that, because he'd have made sure that the restrictor plate killed him long since if there had been no Lex.

Lex, knowing he'd be leaving Lex and even some of the others behind, had kept him from pushing that far, from making Lionel kill him. Not that Lex ever acknowledged that. He just smiled thinly and shook his head at Clark. "No, you would be. You're Clark -- I'm sure you would've been something great no matter what."

The way Clark smiled always made Lex shiver with joy. "Then we're agreed on one thing for sure. We'd both have been something really incredible. And we're going to be. I know it, Lex."

"Once we figure out what we want to do," he drawled in mellow agreement. There was another, narrower stairwell that would take them up to the walk, but they had to go down the hallway a little further in the other direction.

"Whatever we want to do," Clark decided. He still managed to have dreams bigger than Lex's, and obviously he had something in mind. "I think you should do something with teaching, Lex."

"Teaching?" That was a sort of fascinating idea for Lex to roll around in his head. "Maybe. I don't know. I used to dream of running my father's company, or... being a scientist." But he'd had enough of blood samples and science.

"Leave that to Julian," Clark suggested. "He'll be better at running things, I reckon. Since he hasn't suffered as much, Lex. No, you'd make a great teacher. You were the best teacher any of us had."

"Something to think about," Lex said agreeably, "since... I really don't find the appeal in either of those old dreams. What about you -- what did you dream about doing, before?"

"I don't know," Clark admitted. "My parents always encouraged me to hide my gifts, but to do well in school and to just... have fun. Be a normal kid for as long as I could. I guess I never thought about much beyond that."

"Still sounds like the best dream," Lex told him as he opened the door to the stairwell that went upstairs. "Being normal. So, assuming I try the teaching idea eventually and like it, what will you do?"

Clark grinned at him. "Stay home and be your housewife?" he teased. "I don't know. I guess I'd like to find out more about me. About where I came from. Maybe something neat like astronomy."

"I think you could do that," Lex decided. "College will help us figure it out, I'm sure. Maybe you can take an astronomy class and see."

Clark beamed at him as they started up the next set of stairs. "Right now, I just want to be with you and watch the stars," he decided.

If Lex had a free hand, he would have clutched Clark's. As it was, he just smiled to himself, the sort of sly smile he sometimes dared to give Clark. "I hope we can see the nebulas."

"I hope we can see anything at all," Clark decided happily. "Anything is good after so long without. I think it rains here just to make me feel bad." Oh, but the whole day had been full of weak sunshine, and Clark had stripped naked and laid in the sunniest of their bedrooms with the light shining in on his skin.

And Lex had kept near, sprawled out half-dressed with a book to read. A fiction book, really enthralling fantasy that had made Lex want to keep turning the pages. Which he'd had time to do, since he was guarding the door from Dick, who had 'accidentally' peeked in twice. "So the weather has it personally out to get you?" Lex laughed. "Hey, let me get the door..."

"Okay," Clark agreed happily. "It was really nice today, though. I liked it. Except for Dick."

"I think he likes you," Lex suggested gently as he opened the door and stepped up onto the walk, holding it open for Clark so he could safely carry the blanket and telescopes. "And I don't think he can understand what we've gone through. He had a... rather suggestive talk with me yesterday about it."

Clark's confusion was written all over his face. "A suggestive talk about what?" he asked, tilting his head to the side as he took a firm step out and watched Lex come out behind him, shutting the door gently.

"About how if I'm not going to 'act like a man' towards you, there's a lot of other people more than willing to." Lex's voice was bland as he followed Clark towards where the tripod was set up. "Just because we don't... you know. He's nice enough, but he doesn't quite grasp reality. Our reality."

"Act like a man?" The phrase alone confused Clark even worse. "I don't get it," he shrugged, beginning to set the telescope up so that they could see the skies. "I think you're more than man enough for whatever it is he's fussing about, so I guess that's the end of that problem."

Lex set down their dinner and the big thermos of tea, then took the blanket from where Clark had laid it to spread it out. "He meant... that we don't do what Lionel did to us. I suppose it's normal to do that?"

"I..." Clark's brows came together sharply. "I don't know. Maybe. I guess. They used to have these classes in school where they taught you about stuff like that, and they talked about condoms and stuff. I don't know."

Lex waved one hand with slight dismissiveness. "Neither do I, Clark. Do you need any help setting that up?" He didn't care if he and Clark weren't exactly normal about how they did things; they were happy, and that was what mattered the very most. They were happy, while mere memories of the things Lionel had done, done so very recently, made Lex's stomach twist in nausea.

"Sure," Clark said, moving slightly to the side. "Here. I think I've almost got it all together..." And he did, but letting Lex help was half the fun.

Lex leaned in, though, and made sure all of the fastenings were secure and perfect. It was a nice excuse to lean into Clark, to gaze up at the sky while near the telescope so he could gauge what was prettiest to look at. "You did a great job."

That seemed to settle both of them happily enough, because Clark flopped down onto the blanket and reached for a sandwich. "Maybe let's eat first?" he suggested, giving Lex a little smile. "I'm kinda hungry."

"That's a good idea. Some of the nicer constellations won't come up until ten or so," Lex agreed as he opened the thermos and poured a capful of the tea for them to share. "It's supposed to be clear all night."

"If it doesn't get too cold, we could stay out for a while," Clark suggested with a smile. "Unless we get hungry again." It was a possibility with Clark, and the novelty of having food at their fingertips was too good to resist.

Being able to eat at weird hours that they found comfortable. To try new things, things that weren't on the menu. "Yeah." Lex made a toasting gesture to Clark, and took a sip of his tea before he reached for a sandwich.

"I hope you like it," Clark said, waiting for him to take a bite in anticipation. That didn't stop him from taking one of his own and chomping it down with a certain amount of delight and then some, though.

Clark always did enjoy eating. Lex grinned a little, and chewed at his own. "I think the fancy cheese makes it taste... mm. Something. It goes nice with the meat," Lex decided as he offered Clark the tea.

"It's better with Velveeta," Clark told him, taking the cap and drinking from it. "Mmmmm. This is good, Lex. You make the best tea and coffee..."

"Sweet, the way you like it best." The way that Lex liked it best. If he didn't heal so fast, it was a likely bet that he would have had a lot of cavities to contend with. And so would have Clark. "It's a nice contrast. Sweet tea and fried bologna sandwiches. A nice warm blanket and the cool air. It's nice to... feel things, really feel them, and not worry."

With care, Clark leaned over and pressed his mouth to Lex's, sweet and tender the way it always was. "Always," he promised Lex. "Forever."

There wasn't a worry in Lex's head just then, not a single worry or distressing thought. He kissed Clark back just as warmly after those words, and certainly didn't doubt the truth of them. He'd never leave Clark, by choice or otherwise, and Clark would never leave him. They'd always have moments like that.

And Lex was going to show Clark the Corona Borealis constellation, and tell him the story about it.

Dick was bored.

Bored, bored, bored.

The two young men who'd joined their household were tentative about everything. Timid, as if they were going to be denied necessities if they chose poorly or something. It made him feel sorry for them, and at the same time, it kind of irritated him. Thank God Bruce was going to the airport to pick up the other Luthor kid.

Maybe he'd have a little more spirit.

They seemed so flat, so unimaginative. And Luthor seemed dense about, well, reality. Even if the timidity made him feel sorry, it didn't stop him from being annoyed by it. Lex seemed to guard Clark like a...

Not a hound. Maybe a whippet.

Alfred thought they were wonderful, of course. But they didn't do anything that was normal for their age, normal for Dick's age. Not that the other Luthor boy would, either, but at least he might be closer to something that Dick knew how to deal with.

He hoped.

"Hi, Dick." Even Clark's hello was soft and faintly uncertain, as if he wasn't sure whether Dick would accept it or yell at him for it.

For once he didn't have his shadow with him; Lex had been pretty nervous about his brother coming, so Dick knew there was every chance that he was once more arranging things in Julian's room. Some of his stuff from his home had already arrived, and Lex had been spending a lot of time being nostalgic over it.

Dick found it just a little creepy that Lionel had kept most of Lex's toys and things to give to Julian when he hit the right ages.

"Hey, Clark. What's up?"

"Lex is really nervous, so I thought I'd give him some time to himself. He hasn't had a lot of that lately, just because... Well, things are so different." Broad shoulders shrugged. "I thought I'd read a bit. Do some math."

The boy did math for fun? Disturbing.

"Okay. Uh, need any help?" Dick stood up for a moment, stretching. "I'd suggest going outside, but it's raining cats and dogs out there, and I know you don't like that."

"I think it rains here just to spite me," Clark agreed mournfully. "I wish we were back in Kansas, actually. It's sunnier, for one thing, and closer to home for another." Clark gave a deep sigh. "But, given those things, why don't we play a board game? Or something?"

"Board game...? Okay, what kind?" Dick had a chance to interact with Clark one on one, to see if it was Lex's weirdness that was pushing Clark down. No way he was going to pass it up.

The faint shyness of Clark's smile was utterly gorgeous. "What do you like?" he asked, shaking his head a little. "I mean, I like the old ones. Clue and Sorry and that sort of thing..."

"I think the only board game we have here is Scrabble," Dick admitted after a moment of thought. "Do you like Scrabble?"

Dick's knees grew weak when Clark beamed at him as if he'd been offered gold. "I love Scrabble," he said happily. "We haven't played that in a long time."

"Great. I think it's just in the closet over here," Dick said as he headed towards it even as he said that. "Did you guys do that a lot? Play board games, I mean." Not closets. God.

"When we had them," Clark agreed. "A lot of games, we weren't allowed, like Monopoly, because it was... too much. Lex's dad didn't even want him to be able to play at business. So, we got simple ones. Like Operation or... well, stuff that didn't have any clues to current events or the like."

"That's..." Dick sighed as he opened the door to the ominous closet, and bent down to rummage around past the coats and boxed up things. "That's really sick of him."

The dry response didn't seem much like sweet Clark to Dick at all. "Yeah, well. That's the least of his sickness, so I guess we're grateful for those small favors."

It made Dick a little quiet even as he finally dug out the box. "You guys should... talk about it, you know? I want to help, but it's hard."

"Because you don't know everything?" Clark asked him. "You don't want to. Not really. It's not interesting, and it would only upset you. Lex and I know, and we talk. I worry more about the others."

"They've actually been doing well," Dick assured him. "Bruce'll let you call them if you want. I think Diana has just about fixed Jodie's problem." He shut the closet behind him, and carried the Scrabble box over towards Clark. "And you really should... try to tell me something? Bruce and I are worried about you and Lex. We don't know what's going on inside your heads, if you're happy here or... what."

"We're very happy here." The response was so automatic that Dick had to wonder if it was true. "And... I guess we're getting used to things. Nothing hurts here." Clark sounded almost amazed. "Being able to go to the kitchen when you want something is incredible, and if it wasn't raining, we could go out every night and see the stars. Nobody... Nobody watches when you sleep or wakes you up after an hour to, to do things to you. It's good. Just..." He paused, glanced away. "We know we need help. To be normal. But we just want to go home." Even if home wasn't anything but a memory Clark had shared with Lex.

Dick sighed quietly, as he sat down on the floor and laid the Scrabble set on the carpet. "It's been years, Clark. What, five, six years? You don't... you probably don't have a home anymore. And you guys are safe here."

"It doesn't matter if there's nothing there anymore," Clark told him, sitting down carefully across the way from Dick. "That hasn't ever mattered. It's the memory that's most important. And I want to go back there. To go home. And to take Lex. Everybody keeps saying that we ought to think of something we want to do, and then we say it, and there's this automatic sense of no." He paused, suddenly turning pale. "W-which is okay. I mean. If you say no. Because that's your right, we, we don't mean to be, I don't mean to be, to upset you. Lex wouldn't ever upset anyone, so if you're mad..."

Shaky ground there, so Dick spoke carefully when he pulled the bag of pieces out, and the board. "It's not that we're saying no, it's that... well, I know Bruce is scared that maybe you don't know you can't go back to a memory. Things never stay the same as you remember they were. Memory sort of... polishes the rough edges off of things."

"Okay," Clark said simply, timid and obviously frightened. The way his hands shook when he reached for the pieces Dick gave him made the other boy wish that he'd been a little gentler, except that it wasn't even his fault.

"Clark, no one's angry with you," Dick told him firmly. "Really. If you guys want to, you know... go see if you can find your home again, we'll help. Once you're... a little less shaky. It's hardly been any time at all." He handed Clark the tray to set his pieces up onto, then set the bag to the side and between them.

"Thank you," Clark said simply, still looking too much like a deer caught in the headlights for Dick's tastes. "I. We. We. Just want to go somewhere and have jobs and be normal. That's all. Just be normal." The faint shame and yearning in those green eyes made Dick shiver as Clark looked at him. "I don't know. Is that a lot? To want, I mean? For people like us?"

They could do so much more. Clark especially had more to offer than that. He had powers beyond Dick's comprehension, and would've made such a great hero... "Nah. It's not too much at all. If it... if that's what's going to make you both happy, and if that's what you want to do, then go for it."

"That's okay?" Just the thought made Clark's mouth curl up even as Dick offered him the bag of letters to let him draw the first letter. "Because... Lex would make the best teacher. Ever."

"Yeah?" Dick wasn't sure he'd want Lex teaching any kid of his, and he didn't think that Lex could survive being a teacher, but... if they wanted to have dreams, let them. Really mundane dreams, but. "That sounds... nice. Hey, has Lex dropped any hints about what he wants to do for his birthday? It's, what, two days away?"

"Is it?" The fact that Clark didn't know was somewhat disturbing. "We never really knew the dates a lot, and we didn't get birthday parties or... Well, or anything like that, so..." The way white teeth momentarily bit into luscious lower lip made Dick cross his legs slightly. "I remember getting presents. For my birthday. Do you think, maybe...?" He looked at Dick hopefully. "Or maybe cake?"

Christ. Dick knew for a fact that they did something in bed together almost every night, that they shadowed each other, and Clark didn't know Lex's birthday? Still...

It still didn't change the fact that Clark was sexy and handsome, in a throbbing straight to Dick's dick way.

"Cake and presents are pretty par for the course, Clark," he assured.

"Even one from me, maybe?" Clark asked hopefully as they showed one another their tiles, determining that Dick would go first. Dick had to wonder if Clark had cheated so that would happen, just so that Dick wouldn't be angry with him. "Something little, maybe?"

"Yeah," Dick said agreeably. "Can you give me some ideas? What kind of cake do you two like?" Clark had to have cheated, but Dick sorted through his letters for a word to lay down first.

"Lex likes strawberry," Clark said very seriously. "With real strawberries, and real whipped cream. It's his favorite. We used to have strawberry shortcake sometimes, you know, with Cool Whip? And the little spongy cups like you buy from the grocery store? And he'd talk about that kind of cake, then. Just sometimes."

"Strawberry?" Dick lifted his eyebrows a little, but nodded. He'd have to mention it to Alfred. Would probably be hard to make, but there were lots of bakeries in Gotham. "Okay, and what kind do you like?"

"I'm not so crazy about cake," Clark demurred, contemplating the word that Dick spelled out, looking at his own letters. "I'll probably like what Lex likes."

There wasn't much that Clark could build off of the word 'gum'. "Oh. Okay. So... what sort of presents do you think he'd like?" And when he asked Clark the same question, would he get the same 'I like what he likes' answer that was so damned annoying?

Carefully, Clark laid out two more letters -- an a and a b, forming 'gab'. "I don't know. Well, I mean, we didn't get a lot of things. I think he'd like books about recent history," Clark decided. "The last ten years, I mean. We've missed a lot, and we weren't allowed to talk about it. And..." He paused, eyes concentrating on his letters. "I know he didn't want a stuffed anything, but everybody ought to have at least one. My mom always said."

"You mean... a stuffed animal?" Like the cow. That, as far as Dick knew, they slept with, and Clark occasionally carried with him. "Okay. That's something to think about. You want that to come from you?"

"Would that be okay?" As if he had to have permission. "I'd really like him to have something. Maybe a bear. Everybody has a bear when they're little, right?"

Dick smiled a little at Clark, then drawled, "Yeah. I remember having a bear. Okay. Books and a bear. And you...? Any, you know, hints?"

"About what?" Clark asked him, head tilted to the side.

"About what you might want?" Dick pressed almost worriedly.

"Why would I want anything? It's not my birthday." Confusion on Clark was adorable. Irritating... But adorable. "It's Lex's."

Dick drew a slow breath as he laid down the word 'bull' onto Clark's 'gab'. "Okay." Because explaining to Clark would've made his head hurt, and probably made Clark's head hurt. "Are you excited about Julian being here?"

"Yes." That was a very definite statement. "We like Julian a lot. He always used to tell us things when Lionel let him visit. Outside things." Carefully, Clark settled down three letters after one of the ls, spelling lair.

"You know how Bruce got him here, don't you?" Dick asked as he rearranged pieces and looked at the board.

"He said that he made arrangements," Clark said simply. "That's all we know, really."

"He's actually in Lex's custody. Since Lex is his brother. So... legally, Lex is his caretaker," Dick said. He laid down 'Rug' onto Clark's lair. "I don't know if that means anything to you. Just... if you guys get comfortable with things and being out, it'll be no trouble for you to take Julian with you."

"Really?" That seemed to excite Clark a lot, the boy's back straightening. "Really truly? We'll have Julian? Even with the things Lionel said about Lex? Because they weren't true, none of them were."

"Yeah. There's, uh... a reason Bruce and I have sort of been sifting through the papers before we give them to you. The media caught word of everything that happened at Belle Reve, and it's all over the papers. How he forged everything, set it all up. There's pictures of you guys so people in your families can ID and get in touch with you if they're... you know. Capable."

Alive.

Not like Clark's parents, but maybe some of the others...

He stopped short, deciding that he wasn't going to cry. He'd already done that for his parents. "What about the kids whose parents sold them? I know some of them did. Like Ian."

"Well, the government is involved," Dick murmured, "because you're all... special. So they filter things and... Ian's parents? Wouldn't be able to find him if they searched the whole world. What they did is something that means they don't deserve to get their kid, kids, you know, back."

And Clark looked like he was going to cry, pretty green eyes misting over ever so slightly. It made Dick want to hug him... and then some.

"That's really wonderful," Clark said seriously. "I mean, really. Like Jake. And Cyrus. They don't even have parents anymore, so they're in the best places for them, I'm sure. And I know Jodie's dad died, and she's been so sick..." Worried about others long before he worried about himself. It just made Dick want him more, even as Clark carefully spelled out 'mom', attaching it to Dick's first word.

Dick let out a long breath, and quickly added 'more' off to the side of the first M. "Yeah," he sighed, leaning onto his crossed legs as he waited for Clark to go. "We're not sure if any of them have parents left, but... you've got to try. Maybe someone has an aunt or an uncle, or grandparents still out there. Or a brother. Even if they can't live with them, I'd think that talking with them, seeing them sometimes might help. Right?"

"Jodie accidentally killed the closest thing I had to a brother," Clark said solemnly, contemplating his letters. He grinned and laid down s-q-u-i-r to meet Dick's e. "Double word score."

"Damn, with a q," Dick chuckled as he looked over his own letters and tried to contemplate it. "So, uh... damn. I'm sorry to hear that. You guys really had it rough..."

Clark's broad shoulders shrugged. "We had each other. That was more than a lot of the others had. Like Ian. He ended up spending so much time as two of himself that we think his personality split altogether."

Dick hadn't thought about the possibility of that, but he just shook his head a little at the idea. After all, maybe Ian was two people from the start, or there had always been the two personalities, or... "How'd you two... become friends, if you don't mind me asking? I mean, Lex is almost six years older than you. Couldn't have had much in common."

"When two of you are always singled out for the same kind of treatment, you get sort of used to the idea that maybe there's something similar about you. Something he wants, somehow, that he can only get in that one place. And... it makes it easier." Clark wasn't looking at him.

Which was all right, because it let Dick study his face without feeling too particularly creepy about it. The other young man looked... really sad. With that in mind, Dick laid 'sad' off of Clark's s. "I don't quite get it. What did he do to both of you?"

"Just things," Clark said solemnly. "Unpleasant things. Stuff that he didn't do to the others. Lex suffered more than anybody else. Anybody at all." Carefully, he added letters to Dick's d -- i-r-e.

Scrabble wasn't supposed to be depressing. Dick looked over the board, then drew his letters. "Mm. Is that why you guys are so scared? Because Lionel... did things." Did things. That was a really childish, weird way to phrase it.

Green Lantern had said something, something about Lionel being a sick fuck, and suddenly it all just clicked in Dick's head. And he wished it hadn't clicked.

"Well..." Clark still wasn't looking at him, and probably wouldn't while they were playing, Dick guessed. "Yeah. Because..." A shuddering sigh broke loose. "Lex was there a long time. Five whole years longer than me. Almost six. Trying to, to help the others. When they came in. And nobody protected Lex." Nobody could, Clark didn't say, not even him.

But Dick heard it.

"And you would've tried," Dick filled in, "which was why he had that restrictor thing Bruce told me about, put in your chest?" All of the puzzle pieces were finally fitting in together. Things Bruce had said, what he'd read in their files about the official experiments, things that Lex had said when he'd prodded at him about the relationship (lack of) that he had with Clark.

Limpid green eyes peeked up at him, Clark's mouth trembling. "Yes. He didn't know that," Clark admitted. "Not when it was first put in. But after that, he was glad he did it. Because I would have left all of the others, or tried until it killed me. But not Lex."

"Mmm. Because he treated you well and you seemed a lot alike?" Not a really firm basis to start a relationship on, but Dick suspected he'd seen weaker. Like wanting a relationship because the other person had a great ass.

"It was a start," Clark explained. "And a start when you're in Belle Reve is better than anything else."

"Right." Dick shuffled through his letters to come up with a word that wasn't inappropriate. 'Rape' wouldn't be a great thing to lay down just then. Maybe just ape... "Okay. I'll stop probing around. And I'll ask Alfred about strawberry cake, okay?"

That brilliant smile made Dick's belly knot up. God. It just wasn't fair. "Thanks, Dick. You're the best."

"Nah, not really," Dick denied as he laid down 'ape'. "I just... try." And he decided he should maybe just leave Clark alone, because it was pretty clear that there wouldn't be any ground to be gained by putting a wedge between Lex and him.

Of course, if he made friends with both of them...

"Ooo." P-a-r joined Dick's e in a crazy configuration that barely avoided the other letters, making pare. "Um. So. What time will Bruce be back with Julian? Because Lex is really excited. He loves his brother."

"Hopefully soon. There might have been a, you know, flight delay," Dick noticed as he sorted through the bag blindly for pieces. Hopefully Lex didn't love his brother in the same way that Lionel had loved Lex. "So, what's Julian like?"

"He's neat," Clark declared happily. "He's really smart, and really nice. We didn't get to see him a lot, because Lionel only brought him when he was trying to show off how 'good' he was to us."

"How good? How good Julian was, or how good Lionel was?" Dick asked in vague confusion.

"Oh. Lionel. You know, good to us because he let precious Julian come see crazy Lex. That's how he made things out," Clark explained.

Pretty sick, slick way to do things. Dick sighed, looking desperately for a place to lay down a word. Clark was good at the game... "Does Julian actually think you're all crazy? What exactly did he know?"

"He knows better," Clark said simply. "That's all. I mean, when you think about it, he lived with Lionel, too."

"So.. you think he knows how things... sort of worked?" Dick asked him cautiously, watching his expression.

"I think he's probably got an idea." Clark contemplated his own letters seriously. "For one thing, Lex's dad wasn't the kind of person to take disobedience of any sort. Only difference, I guess, is Julian was probably treated better by way of things."

"Things?" Dick found an m, and laid 'make' off of it finally. "Oh, I get it. Stuff, that you own. I... sort of figured that from the stuff that got sent ahead so we could put together a room for him."

"Most of it used to be Lex's. They're not kids' toys, though," Clark said seriously. "They're... actually pretty weird. I mean, I had big Legos. And teddy bears. And stuff."

"Yeah. I had that stuff. But I haven't really looked at the stuff sent over; Lex seemed to have it pretty well in hand." In a possessive, creepily nostalgic way. Particularly over the delicately painted toy soldiers. "What all is it?"

"Just his stuff. Like the whole battle of Troy thing. It was to teach him strategy. I'd say you and I were both really lucky compared to Lex. You know. I mean, you seem like you've been lucky," Clark expounded. "Like me."

"Luckier, in a lot of ways. My parents died when I was... I guess around when you lost yours. Bruce took me in, though. I've never been mistreated, he's always been a... a father figure to me, in a way. Kind of distant, but there when I need him." Dick smiled at Clark a little. "Maybe we, you and Lex and the rest of us, can make the rest of the time that Julian's a kid a little more enjoyable."

"That would be the greatest thing ever." And who ever knew that flirting could be accomplished by wanting good things for a kid? Dick was frankly amazed.

Even if Clark didn't seem to realize that they were flirting. He grinned at Clark, and smiled, "Hey, you going to put another word down?"

"It's my turn?" That seemed to startle Clark, the boy looking at the board sheepishly. "Gosh. I'm so sorry!" A quick rearrangement of letters gained them two more vowels and a p, spelling 'keep' on the way down.

"That's okay, I distracted you," Dick grinned. "So, what color of stuffed bear do you think would be best?"

"Purple." There was no hesitation, not the least moment of thought given to the matter. "Big and fluffy and purple. Because purple looks really good on Lex. Grey and black and blue, too."

Bruise-colors, and for one moment that was too damned long, Dick had a head-full of mental images that he'd never really wanted to have. Ever. "Oh, well... I should have guessed that after you guys got your jackets," Dick grinned as he looked through his pieces for a viable word.

"Lex makes me get green." Clark was grinning at him. "He likes it on me. But that's okay, because that means I can pick out purple for Lex. So. Everybody's happy."

"Who's happy?" Lex strode into the room just then, with that freakish silence that tended to set Dick's nerves on edge. Not that he wasn't used to Bruce doing that, and not that he could even suspect Lex of eavesdropping -- probably lacked the spine -- but it was creepy.

"Clark, about his jacket," Dick grinned in reply, and winked at Clark. "Hey, want to join us in Scrabble? We could start a new game for you..."

Then the doorbell gave its ominous dong, a signal that Alfred had probably been answering for decades.

"Do you think Bruce is back with Julian already?" The sheer delighted excitement on Clark's face was obvious, and he nearly floated up off of the floor to grasp Lex's hand. "Let's go see, okay? If it's Julian!"

No, wait, it wasn't nearly floating, it really was floating. Lex just threw Clark a grin, and there went all of the attention Dick had been getting.

Later. He'd try again later.

"We can hover around behind Alfred," Lex decided as he clutched onto Clark's hand to head down the hallway. "I've wanted to see Julian so badly!"

"Let's hurry!"

They were gone in the blink of Dick's eye, or maybe even less, leaving him with dust and Scrabble board. "Great. Just. Great."

Neither heard Dick's frustrated outburst. Lex didn't hear anything except the heavy door's creaking as Alfred opened it, just when he and Clark halfway skidded to a stop. Julian, he had his little brother safe and with him again, and he wasn't ever going to let anything happen to Julian that had happened to Lex, and everything was going to really be good, better, and--

There was a woman who looked like his mom, with a sandy-grey haired man beside her. No Julian. No Bruce.

That wasn't very funny.

It was even less funny when he realized that Clark was behind him and that he wasn't breathing, or more like he was only breathing out in a horrible broken whine that didn't sound real. That couldn't be real, because Clark hadn't uttered that sound since he was fifteen. Lex knew.

"CLARK!"

"Can I help you?" Alfred finally gathered himself -- he'd been expecting Julian, too, Lex wanted to bet -- and put himself firmly in the doorway while Lex took a back-step. Yelling, no, even if it was just a shout, made him want to slink back and away.

"Mister, that's our son, that's--"

"Oh, my baby! You're really alive! Oh..."

"Momma?" The question was heartbreaking, and even worse to turn up to look at Clark and see his eyes welling with tears, sweet mouth trembling. "Momma?"

The woman moved past Alfred so quickly Lex was almost sure that she was a mutant, reaching out and pulling Clark to her, and she was crying, too, harsh, tearing sounds that ripped through her and made all of her shake. "Clark. Oh, Clark, my baby, oh, God, my baby..."

And then the man was past Alfred, too, and he was hugging Clark at the side, and the woman, too. Momma? She... looked like she could have been, could have been Lillian for all that Lex couldn't sharply remember her face anymore. Clark's momma, only she, they were supposed to be dead.

Maybe he'd been wrong, and Clark really had possessed something worth escaping for.

Lex took another back step, and another, looking at them, then glancing to the door that Alfred was closing almost reluctantly.

"Momma. Momma." The words were heartbreaking, really, and made Lex desperate for his own mother. "Momma. You were. I saw you, you were..."

"No, baby. No, baby, no, we weren't, we weren't, oh, my baby, we looked so hard and we couldn't do anything...."

"Clark, son, we'd almost given up when we finally saw the news, then we had to find you... Oh God, it's a miracle!" The man's voice sounded so sincere, not just on the verge of tears, but crying as he hugged Clark and the woman.

Lex leaned back against the wall, swallowing. He wanted his mother, he wanted that mythical ideal family Clark had always told him about, where his mom had baked and helped him with English homework, and his dad had made him do his chores, but then played games with him. Games that didn't hurt. They were there to take Clark from him, they had to be.

"Oh, Momma, Daddy, Dad, I have to show you, I have to tell you..." Through tears and laughter and full-fledged emotion that Lionel would have said was a waste of energy. "You have to meet him. You have to. Oh, Momma."

"Have to meet who, honey?" She was still crying, still hugging onto Clark when she lifted her head a little, hair mostly in her eyes when she looked around and almost missed Lex. That was okay, because he'd walked so far backwards. "Who, your... your friend, Clark?"

Lex only gave her a tight, tiny smile, and almost wanted to leave. No, Clark needed to... needed to something. Be with them. Not share, because people were allowed to be selfish about their families.

"Everything good is because of him, Momma," Clark assured her, looking down at her, glancing over at his father with a flickering motion of his eyes. "Everything. I didn't... I couldn't... I can't think, I just can't think. Lex. Lex?" He turned from them partially, reaching out a hand. "Lex? I want you to..." To meet his parents, but all he could do was hold out those trembling fingers. "Lex. Momma. Dad."

He never had been able to pass up Clark's hand, held out like that, even as he edged awkwardly closer towards them. "Hello." And what was he supposed to say past that, once he'd grasped Clark's hand. 'Hi, I'm Lionel Luthor's son. He used to hurt Clark a lot' didn't seem to work. Any admittance of who he was would just...

It made sense that they'd be angry if they knew, they were Clark's parents. God, Clark had parents. "I--"

The doorbell. Again.

"If this is Master Dick's parents, I'll be in the library pouring myself a drink," Alfred muttered, as he moved back to get it.

"Mom, Dad." The words were awkward. "I want you to meet Lex. Lex is... Lex is everything." And he just expected them to UNDERSTAND that? Even perfect parents would have problems with an introduction like that, surely they would?

"Lex Luthor." The man looked at him with a very serious expression. "I haven't seen you since the day you lost your hair." His mouth was pressed together, eyes suspiciously damp. "We got Clark that day. You were so hurt, and he just touched you, and..." The older man turned away for a moment.

"Oh, Jonathan..."

That didn't make any sense, but Lex squeezed Clark's fingers while the woman slid an arm behind Jonathan's back and pulled them together with another hug. It left Lex standing out a little, but he had Clark's hand, and--

"Julian, you shouldn't play in the puddles like that. Alfred, there's a truck parked in the turn around, and-- we have company?"

"Julian!" Lex almost let go of Clark's hand. Almost. Everything was happening so fast. It was all a muddle, and he and Clark weren't accustomed to things. Not things like this, not good things all heaped on top of them, strange, heart-rending, vein-racing good things.

"Julian!" Clark gasped with delight. "Julian, Julian! Come meet my parents! My parents are here!"

"But I thought Clark's parents were dead?" Julian asked seriously from the doorway, water splashed all the way up to his knees, pants drenched. "Lex?"

"Alfred..." Lex didn't care that Bruce looked like he was taking the nice old man aside for a talking to, even as he ushered Julian into the hallway. He had Julian, his little brother, and Clark had, had his parents, and even if everything was going to go really wrong, it felt okay for the moment. It felt really okay...

"Julian!" Lex grinned for his brother, held out his free hand. "Come here, it... they're not dead, Father just told us all they were..." His words broke the hugging up a little, the man pulling back to look at Lex again and Julian, too. In a non-scary way, in a way that didn't make Lex feel sick.

"Maybe, uh, we should... God, Clark, we've missed you..."

"Get out of the hallway?" Martha tearily suggested. "Mr. Wayne, we're sorry we just... just barged in, but..."

"I understand," Bruce said nicely enough. He was very... DIFFERENT when other people were present. "Gosh, I can just imagine how wonderful it must be to, to have your parents show up after all this time."

"Clark, we just..." The man's father took a deep breath and let it out quickly. "We just didn't think we'd ever see you again, once that night was over. Lord, how we looked for you, son..." One arm pulled Clark close. "We knew Lionel Luthor had to have you, but we couldn't find you no matter how hard we tried, and..."

Clark was grinning, that happy wide grin that was teary, too. It just got better when Julian, still wary, finally came close enough for Lex to hug him. "Julian, we just, just finished putting together a room for you..."

"Oh, Clark... We tried to find you, but there weren't any leads. We never stopped looking, baby, we never stopped looking for you!" The woman was teary again, and it was enough to make Lex want to cry. Someone had... had actually cared enough to look for Clark. Just hadn't been given up for a lost cause like he was, and...

They were really perfect. Everything was perfect, and he had Julian, and Clark, and...

And, who knew happiness made you woozy? Maybe that was why Lionel had always kept them miserable.

"Lex!" Clark gasped, and he heard that amidst the swirling delight, heard other people exclaiming around them. Still, Clark was with him, cradling him, and he wasn't falling. At least, not anymore.

"I believe Master Lex has fainted," Alfred noted, mostly for Clark's sake. "Perhaps we should move into the Den?" The suggestion sounded very firm to Clark's parents, and to Clark, and Julian, too. "It's become rather crowded in the hallway."

"Julian, here's your suitcase, and there's a bathroom just off in that door there. Change out of anything that's wet," Bruce instructed gently as he pulled Julian away a little. "Mr. and Mrs. Kent, why don't we...?"

"I've got Lex," Clark said simply, standing with the older boy dangling in his arms. He jostled Lex's head gently onto his shoulder. "You can go pee, Julian. I know it's probably been a really long trip."

"But..." Julian looked ready to protest. "I don't want to leave you..."

"It'll be okay," the boy promised solemnly. "I'll look after him. You trust me to do that, right?"

Julian nodded slowly, looking at the gathered adults with faint suspicion. "Yes."

Bruce rubbed briefly at a temple while he moved to lead the way to the den, where Dick was half-walk walking out of in curiosity. "Would anyone like something to drink?"

"No, thanks, we..." Martha wiped at her eyes, smearing mascara as she smiled at Clark. It was clear to them that Clark hadn't had his... 'specialness' taken from him, because he was strong enough to heft Lex around with no effort. "Jonathan and I are fine."

"I think Lex needs something. Please," Clark requested, looking only a little uncertain. That was mostly because he always felt as though even asking for something was dangerously close to a demand. Getting it himself would be better, but Bruce knew that he wouldn't leave Lex, even for a moment.

Alfred didn't say anything, but he smiled slightly and headed down the long hallway towards the kitchen. He'd get Lex something, and wouldn't mind. He probably minded the mud that Julian had tracked in more than having to get a drink.

"Uhm... Hi," Dick hedged, looking at the clot of people Bruce was leading into the den.

"Hello." The red-haired woman sniffled that, a hand on Clark's back despite that Clark was carrying Lex. "Mr. Wayne, we, ah... We contacted the government and they told us to contact you to find Clark..."

"They said you'd been looking out for Clark and for one of the other boys," Jonathan admitted. "They told us we could come and get Clark, but we wanted to ask you about..." he paused. "We wanted to ask you about Lex, too. We, ah, there are all kinds of circumstances..."

Clark didn't care much about circumstances. He just knew he wasn't going anywhere without Lex, and the way he sat in one of the big armchairs and tenderly shifted the bald man to rest comfortably in his lap said it without words.

"There are... many circumstances," Bruce agreed with a glance over to them. Then he smiled, that weird expression that wasn't quite his usual small slight smile when one of them -- any of them, Dick included -- said or did something that really amused him. Like sitting up for a day straight to make sure the news didn't go away. It was sort of like a Lionel smile, only not... malicious. "And we can discuss all of them later. I'm sure you're tired after your drive all the way from... Smallville, was it? I'd like to invite you to stay at least the night."

"Bruce, should I go make sure Julian doesn't get lost?" Even though Dick didn't know the kid, he figured he could at least be trustworthy enough to make sure he didn't take a turn down the wrong hall. "Since Lex is, uh... passed out?"

"He's happy," Clark said softly, petting Lex's neck and back. "I mean, more happy than I think he's ever been. So it's probably hard to bear. I feel like exploding."

"Don't... explode, son!" Jonathan pleaded. "Just.." Don't explode.

"Lemonade for Master Lex."

"Get Julian, Dick," Bruce bade gently as he moved towards Alfred to pick up the glass since Clark wasn't inclined to movement.

"Clark, honey... your father and I know it's been five years, but do you want to come home with us? Back to Smallville?" His mother was suggesting it carefully, as she pulled a chair over to the wing-backed chair where Clark was sitting. Bruce set the lemonade down on the table beside the chair, then cast Mr. Kent a sympathetic look.

"More than anything," Clark agreed, voice soft. "I told Lex that I'd take him home one day. No matter what. Even though I thought you were..." He looked up at his mother, then at his father. "I saw them shoot you. I... HE said you were dead. Both of you. And nobody ever came, so..."

"We couldn't find you, and Luthor... Luthor didn't leave any trails," Martha half-whispered. "We looked, and asked for help, but no one would help us..." Obviously they hadn't known the right people, like Kyla's grandfather had. Or maybe he'd just gotten lucky.

Lex shifted a little in Clark's arms, groaning as he opened his eyes. "What happened...?"

"You fainted," Clark told him. "Don't pick your head up yet. I have some lemonade for you, okay? Julian will be right back. I made him go to the bathroom."

Lex left his head on Clark's shoulder for a moment, eyes half open. It was a comfortable position for him, half-familiar from the aftermath of some of their worse days, but... Clark's parents were there, watching. It made Lex uncomfortable, so he finally did start to lift his head. "Sorry, it was... just too much for a minute there." And now at least everyone was sitting down or close to it.

"Wow, Julian, you must have sat in the puddle to get wet that high up. Was it flooding out in front of the airport?" Dick, as he came back into the room with Julian in tow.

"No," Julian declared, smiling slightly. "Bruce let me play in the puddles. Until I started splashing, anyway. He said that everybody ought to get to play in puddles now and then. I've never done it before," he confessed, walking towards Clark and Lex. He firmly abandoned Dick. "Lex, are you okay? Clark caught you and everything. Clark always catches you, so I'm glad we have him..." He looked towards Clark's parents a little uncertainly. "I'm Julian," he introduced himself, even though there had already been garbled attempts at introductions in the hallway.

Everything seemed calmer now, and maybe it was because Lex had missed the last of the less calm things since he'd been passed out cold. He kept his head at least close to Clark's shoulder, listening to Clark's parents introduce themselves to Julian. Martha and Jonathan. They seemed like such nice people, they had to be nice people.

Like Bruce was. Like Dick was. Like all of the people who'd rescued them were; it was getting easier to imagine that the world really wasn't full of Lionels ready to hurt them at a moment's notice. Best two weeks of his life, even with the fainting.

"I'm okay, Clark. I won't pass out again," he half-laughed as he finally made himself start to sit up on Clark's lap. He wanted to be closer to the conversation, and Clark and the lemonade were going to come with him.

"You're sure?" Clark fretted over him, worried when almost anyone else would have just let him go and make his own mistakes. From the look on his parents' faces, it was something he'd gotten honest.

"Now, son, don't let him get up if he's not ready. If you think he'll pass out again," Jonathan said quickly, moving closer. "All right?"

"We can sit down right over there," Lex insisted gently, as he shifted carefully to get off of Clark's lap. "I'm not about to run a marathon. I'm all right."

"Well..." The older man seemed reluctant. "I admit I've only ever seen you when you weren't, Lex. It's all right if I call you Lex?"

"Jonathan..." Martha reached past him, gently touching Lex's cheek and then Clark. "Don't worry them, sweetheart?"

"It's okay, Momma," Clark said. "He just wants to be closer to everybody and see what's going on. Lex likes knowing things."

"Please call me Lex." The touch to his cheek was a little worrisome at first, but Martha's expression was so gentle. So... so tender. She'd obviously missed Clark badly, so it was all right that she and Jonathan were crowding close. "I just got excited. I'm all right..."

"Mr. and Mrs. Kent, would you prefer soup or salad with dinner?" Alfred to the rescue, in his own strange way.

"Um..." Jonathan looked to Martha for rescue.

"Can we have potato?" Julian asked, breaking in to get a little closer to Lex. Everyone was knotted together, Bruce and Dick on the outer fringes, Alfred waiting patiently to discuss matters with them. "I like potato, and Dad never let us have it."

Lex was very glad that he was used to the reality of somehow ending up in the middle of things literally. He wasn't ever getting off of Clark's lap.

"Potatoes prepared how, Master Julian?" Alfred seemed warmly amused, and it grew when Martha finally answered him.

"Whatever you have ready already is fine with us. Thank you."

Julian grinned at Lex. "Potato soup, I meant, but whatever makes Clark's mom and dad happy, because it will make Lex happy, and that makes me happy."

Lex laughed a little, a low easy sound as he finally stood; Martha moved back a little, like she was going to catch him if he fell. "I'm not even dizzy anymore, really... And what Julian said. That sounds really good, Alfred, if it's all right?"

"Perfectly fine, Master Lex." Alfred inclined his head slightly as he turned to leave. There wasn't even a remark about letting lemonade go to waste, because he knew it'd be drunk.

"Hey, uh... I'll be back, okay, guys?" Dick excused himself. "I'm going to go see what Bruce is up to..." Nobody had even noticed Bruce slipping off; it really wasn't any surprise, though, not when families were coming together the way they were. Privacy was nice.

"I've missed you so much," Clark told his parents once Dick and Alfred were gone. "I thought you were dead, and... It was just unbearable. Lex is the only reason I managed to get through it all. Any of it."

"Clark, we promise that nothing, nothing will happen to you again. There won't be anything to get through," Martha insisted as she started to move back towards the sofas. Then everyone could sit down instead of hovering, Lex hoped.

Mostly because he felt like they were sucking up his air, but that part wasn't important.

"Come on, Lex." It was second nature to both of them, Clark herding him towards the couch and pulling him close and tight, not even noticing the glances that passed between his mom and dad. "We can sit. We can... I can't think, there are so many questions and so many things I should know, but I can't think."

That was probably worrying for Martha and Jonathan, but Lex understood, shifting to slip an arm over top of Clark's shoulders. "That's all right. I..." Lex looked at Martha and Jonathan when they sat just across from them, the other sofa comfortably close. He shifted over a little, to, when Julian sat beside him. "I can certainly try. Martha, Jonathan, would..." Would, would they take he and Julian, too? He wasn't going to leave Clark, not ever. "Can we go with Clark?"

"Jonathan?" The look that Martha shot her husband seemed like a desperate plea, one full of such hope that it almost hurt.

"Now, Martha, don't get your hopes up," the older man said, reaching up to nervously ruffle a hand through his hair. "It, ah, it'd be hoping for a whole lot, you know, and Mr. Wayne hasn't even said we could take Clark home just yet..."

"I can't live without Lex," Clark broke in with a serious expression. "Not anymore."

Words that were certain to worry the Kents, and Lex didn't want them overly concerned. He wanted them happy, he wanted that pure delight of theirs bottled and kept forever. And Lex didn't want to think about the possibility that he'd ever be without Clark. All he had in the world were Clark and Julian, and if he didn't have Clark, he wouldn't be much good for Julian...

"I don't see why Bruce wouldn't let you take Clark back home," Lex hesitantly offered. "We're not... prisoners here."

"Please, Jonathan..." The look on Martha's face was something that Clark had obviously learned early on in life, because it was the same expression that would get anything he wanted out of Lex. "We could. You know we could, maybe..."

"It's not a question of wanting to do it, Martha. You know I'd take in all of the kids they rescued from that place," Jonathan soothed. "It's just... I don't know if we can afford..."

"I can," Julian piped in. "I'm sure I can. We can. I would like to go, too, because Lex and Clark are very important to me. Honest, Mr. and Mrs. Kent."

There were days that Lex worried all of his time in the Belle Reve had dulled his mind, because... yes, the money. He was Julian's caretaker, and as Lionel's other son, there was a share of money that had gone to him and him alone. Money that had so many zeros attached to it that his head spun. Julian's was in a trust, but Lex's own.... He had to ask Bruce what to do about it, because it was suddenly something he realized he needed to know about.

"We have money, Jonathan. We're... we are Lionel's sons. We have all of his money. Julian and I can pay our own way, we just don't want to leave Clark."

The man's jaw firmed up. "I wouldn't want to take your money, son..."

"You wouldn't have to." Bruce's voice came from the doorway, a little startling. "Sorry. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, I just happened to be coming in to see if anyone needed anything. No, um, all of the young men and women who were saved from Belle Reve have had a certain amount of money placed in trust for them. Clark and Lex included."

Julian leaned past Lex to look beyond them towards Bruce, a smile on his mouth before he sat back. Money from where, Lex almost asked before it dawned on him what one of the probable sources was. "Oh -- I didn't know that..." Lex shifted his other arm around Julian as he resettled, looking over to Bruce.

"Hey, Alfred wants to know if sharp cheddar cheese is okay," Dick asked as he leaned into the room past Bruce.

"I think sharp cheddar is just fine...?" Bruce looked around, waiting for a verdict. Neither Lex nor Clark had any answer to give for that, but Julian nodded.

"Sharp cheddar sounds good. Lex likes that, I'll bet. He likes tasty things," Julian explained. "Clark just likes everything."

"They know that," Clark protested. "I've always liked everything."

"Sharp cheddar it is," Dick declared once Jonathan and Martha had given nods of assent to the idea. It was probably surreal to them that there was still the feeling of dozens of conversations going on around them, even though there were just the two. Maybe it was the buzzing of things unsaid, questions they didn't know how to ask.

"Does that mean, Mr. Wayne, that we'll be allowed to take all three of them with us?" Martha had that same look again, as if the expression that melted Jonathan would melt Bruce, too.

It seemed to be working.

"Well, technically, I'm supposed to be Lex's guardian until he's managed to, ah, reenter society at large, but Julian is Lex's baby brother, so we got a certain amount of, um, dispensation? To make him Lex's ward." Bruce gave that smile that was just so weird it made Clark feel shivery. "So I think we could probably make those arrangements, ma'am. If that's what you want."

Martha's expression blossomed with warmth before their eyes. "Mr. Wayne, we can't thank you enough for everything that you've done to help..."

"No thanks necessary, ma'am," Bruce protested. He seemed to pale a little when Martha came close to him, a funny look darting over his face. "I just did what anybody who could have done would. I'm sorry nobody found them earlier."

Lex liked the look on Bruce's face when Martha hugged him briefly. He tried too hard to put up a lot of fronts. His overly friendly one, his normal slightly snappish self, the angry man with pointy ears. None could survive being hugged.

After all, Lex was sorry that they hadn't been found sooner, too. He stretched his fingers slightly, rubbing Clark's shoulder. "So... Jonathan? What do you have on your farm?"

"So, Mr. and Mrs. Kent..." Bruce was young enough that he was probably little more than Lex's age, so it didn't seem strange that he would refer to them in that manner. At least not strange to them. "I have to confess, we're all really surprised that you're here. That you're alive. All of Lionel's files said that you were dead, and Clark was so sure that... I guess I didn't think about looking for you. I'd like to apologize for that."

"That's all right," Martha assured, voice going softer as she moved to sit back down beside Jonathan once more. "There were just a lot of things that no one ever expected. We didn't think Clark was alive, either. It's been a good surprise."

"About the boys..." Bruce began.

"Young men," Jonathan sighed. He shook his head. "It's a shame that man didn't die the day that the meteors came down in Smallville. It would have been a favor to everybody."

Martha seemed like she wanted to scold Jonathan for the remark, but she didn't. It was a brief war between anger and morality, and anger won. "It would have been. Mr. Wayne, what... exactly happened to them?"

"Torture," Bruce said simply. He didn't seem as if he wanted to expound on that, but the looks both the Kents cast him seemed to press the words out. "Physical, some, a great deal of emotional, sexual."

"Oh, God."

"Oh..." Martha made a pained noise, looking at Jonathan for a moment. "If that bastard wasn't already dead, I'd kill him myself! My poor baby..."

"It's all right, Martha." The man was obviously trying to be stoic for his wife, putting an arm around her and pulling her close. The faint sheen of his gaze couldn't be hidden from Bruce, but he turned to bury his face in her hair for a moment. "We've got our son back. It will be all right. We'll protect the other boys, too."

"I'm so sorry," Bruce apologized, unable to stop himself.

"You got them out, and that was more than we could ever do..." Martha drew a shaky breath, exhaling with an apologetic noise. "I'm sorry. What... what exactly do we need to know? Do they have any problems, what..." What would they have to know in caring for them.

"They're not accustomed to the outside." This was obviously an area in which Bruce felt comfortable. "They're not accustomed to people, and they have a hard time communicating. Clark and Lex, more than the rest of the kids who were there... Latched onto one another. We've tried separating them just periodically to see how they'd deal with that, but..." He shook his head. "Half an hour, forty-five minutes at the most, and they start to get nervous without seeing one another. Even now." Bruce frowned. "They get so excited about little things, games, stuffed animals, that it sort of makes me ashamed."

"What do you mean, they have a hard time communicating? They seemed to be communicating just fine over dinner," Jonathan hedged.

Martha just thinned her lips. "It's like they're still the age they were when they were when he... locked them away. Maybe a little older, but... Am I right, Mr. Wayne? You... You've seen them more than we have."

"That seems to be a pretty accurate representation," Bruce agreed. "They're bright, curious, and they have GEDs. I think it would be good for them to go to some type of community college after a few months, once they sort out how to behave with people." He looked at Jonathan and gave a faint smile. "After all. With just six other people in the room, Alexander fainted."

"That's a... a valid point," Jonathan agreed, looking like he was processing the rest of it. Bruce had a way of phrasing things that made the young men seems like house pets. "Did he just get... too excited?"

"Likely." Bruce's hands were together in front of him, clasped just under his chin. "What exposure they've had to the outside world has been limited. Dick took them shopping a couple of times, took them to the Planetarium. I think Gotham's really too big for them. I'll be grateful to know they're somewhere a little smaller."

A little safer. "Life in Smallville might be more... normal for them," Martha suggested a little hesitantly. "We have a lot of land, and the town population is low."

"Did anything happen while they were on those outings with your ward?"

Reluctantly, Bruce cleared his throat. "They, ah, managed to misplace themselves in a coffee shop," he admitted. "Dick saw someone he knew outside on the sidewalk and stepped out to talk with her. They realized that he was gone and went into something of a panic. Blew right past him on the way out and managed to stay lost for nearly three hours before we found them. They were understandably upset."

Martha looked at Bruce in disbelief for a moment before she said, "So if we go into town we'll need to stay where they can see us."

"Not normal reactions," Jonathan muttered. "Maybe we can dig Luthor up again and kill him over."

"I assure you, no matter how you tried, a more unpleasant death would be nearly impossible. Ah, the children..." Bruce cleared his throat. "As I'm sure you know, all of the children were unique in one way or another. One of them was singularly atypical in that she could, ah. Change her shape. When she killed him, she chose to rip his throat out. With her very wolfish teeth. So I'm told."

Jonathan grimaced. "Never mind, it sounds like he was good and dead that first time, then." Martha gave a shiver, and he rubbed at her arm gently before prying from Bruce, "We knew that... we knew that Clark was special before. Unique, like you said. Probably more than before since he grew into it. What's Lex's uniqueness? Just so we know what... we have to be ready for."

"Healing." It sounded so simple. "No matter how many times he's cut open, the wounds will heal. So long as at least part of an organ remains behind, it will regenerate. We suspect that Lionel was harvesting organs and selling them on the black market, especially since Lex's blood type is AB negative. There's no proof, not even in the files he left behind, but..."

It brought a whole new meaning to the term 'blood money'. Martha swallowed, looking at Bruce intently. "But you're sure it happened? What... what would lead you to believe that? Do, do they talk about it at all?"

"No." The man's dark head shook firmly. "They don't talk about it. Some of the other children, though, were aware of... Well, they also had certain abilities. And some of them have spoken of their suspicions, of surgeries, of the boys being quiet for days on end afterwards." As if they weren't even Clark-and-Lex, but ClarkandLex, the boys.

"Jesus." Jonathan breathed out, a shaky sound. "How could anybody do that to their child?"

"How could anyone do any of that to any human being?" Martha murmured. "You said they were... sexually abused, too? Is this conjecture, also, or..." Or was it in the man's notes or just well-known.

"There's video evidence. The two of them in particular were, ah, singled out for his attentions."

Jonathan stood in a rush, moving over to a window. His hand ruffled through his hair, making it stand on end, and words seemed to escape him.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this," Bruce said simply. "But it's better that you know."

Words didn't escape Martha, even if they sounded strained. "We know. What else can you tell us about Cl-- them." Because it just wasn't Clark. "You said they're smart and curious, and don't know what to do with people... They like games? Do they have any habits or rituals we should be mindful of...?"

"We're just learning them, to be honest. It took them a while to realize they could make sandwiches if they were hungry or that it was okay to make their own choices about food." That had been a little obvious at dinner, though they'd both eaten more than anyone else at the table. There had been cheesecake, and Julian had finally offered Clark his just to see it inhaled.

Clark had split it with Lex.

Martha didn't watch Jonathan standing by the window, just kept her eyes on Bruce. "I can see how that would have happened. Do they always... sleep together?" She and Jonathan had tagged along to see their rooms and the things that had excited Clark -- the prized telescope, his stuffed cow, the star chart poster on the wall.

It had been very obvious that they didn't sleep apart.

"It's something they've been doing for the better part of the last five years," Bruce answered seriously. "Yes. We don't think there's really anything more to it, much, but neither do we think they're ever likely to, ah. Separate."

"It's a little hard to believe that there's not more to it," Martha murmured, voice straining a little once more. "But... even if there is. They seem like good boys, and it doesn't matter. I don't think Jonathan or I will try very hard to separate them. It seems it would just hurt them..."

"I won't have any of those boys hurt again," Jonathan choked out from the window.

"No," Bruce agreed. "I don't think either of you would."

"And... that leaves Julian. Was he ever... there, with them, is there any way of knowing what Lionel did to him?" Because if he could harvest organs, torture and rape one son, there was little telling what he could inflict on the other.

"There's no proof one way or the other, and he seems relatively well adjusted in comparison." Bruce was calm, serious. "We're pretty sure Lionel considered him to be his true heir and was, ah, training him to take on business in a way that Lionel would have approved."

"I... see." Training Julian to be like Lionel, except he seemed like such a sweet boy to Martha. He seemed like he'd like living on the farm, as long as Clark and Lex were there, seemed like he could adjust to anything at all with ease and a smile. "Then that's a small blessing."

"Lionel used to take him to show off the facilities at Belle Reve. Um, that's how I got the boys, actually," Bruce excused sheepishly. "I was doing some investing in Metropolis and Luthor apparently thought I'd make a good partner. I think maybe he underestimated me, because once he showed me that place... well, something had to be done, obviously, and Batman is here in Gotham, so I called the Commissioner and asked for some help. He took Julian with us that day. It was... truly horrible."

At least their thanks wasn't misplaced when they gave it to Mr. Wayne. Martha just nodded, looking over towards where Jonathan was watching the rain pat pat pat against the glass and down to the grounds below. "Could you tell us about it? I... really want to try to understand. It might help us help them better."

"I have files," Bruce said quietly. "Mrs. Kent. I... I really think it will be better if you read the files. They're much more specific than anything I saw."

"That will do," Jonathan decided, voice husky as he turned away from the window. "If he did that to his own son, I reckon whatever he did to Clark was at least that bad, too."

Martha just nodded to that as she looked towards her husband. "We'll go into town tomorrow and rent a u-haul so we can take Julian's things with us when we head back to Smallville. How... when can we take the boys with us, Mr. Wayne?"

"Tomorrow would be fine," Bruce offered them almost gently. "I'm sure that Clark wants more than anything to go home, and Lex wants to go with him. They've talked about Smallville a lot, and I promised that I'd help them return to your farm even though you were gone."

"That, that's very good of you Mr. Wayne. Thank you, again." Martha started to stand up, expression drawn and tired. "Do you have their... records on hand?"

"Yes, ma'am." Bruce stood, moving to the wall and pulling away the painting there, swinging it back from the panelling. "I'll let you take them with you, if you like. Ah, you'll probably want some privacy."

It didn't bode well for the contents, but Martha accepted them with a slightly unsteady hand. "Thank you. We'll head to the room Alfred showed us. Thank you again, for everything that you've done for them. Have a... have a good night." Then she turned to Jonathan to leave with him.

"Come on, Martha." He reached out a hand to her almost tenderly, touching her shoulder. "We'll look at it and we'll get the boys ready to go home. Everything will be all right."

If they worked at it. She let Jonathan walk her out of the room, holding onto the thick folders. Everything would be all right if they worked at it, because if every page in there held even a single account of harm to those boys, that was more harm than anyone should ever have faced. "We'll have to fix the loft up again," she reminded him as they walked down the hallway.

"We'll have to do a lot of things," Jonathan agreed quietly. "But we'll take care of it. We'll work it out, letting the boys have spaces of their own. Maybe we can convert that last guest room into a study or something, because... I reckon Clark will want Lex to share his. You know." He wasn't going to discuss that too much.

After all, Jonathan had always held the strong hope that Clark would... work with his specialness, his alienness whenever they finally told him, and... do great things in the world. And marry. White picket fence, a wife -- maybe one of the girls from town -- kids. Sure he was only 18, but...

A father had a right to dream about his son's future. Now it was gone, even if Clark suddenly did have a future. He was alive, and that was something. "I know, Jonathan. But maybe... maybe that will change, too. With time. They've only been out of there for a couple of weeks..."

"Well, best not to worry on that." It wasn't just his dream dying, either, but they had their son back. "When we got Clark, we always said we'd love him no matter what. Show him to do the right thing. And in a way, he's done that. Kept himself whole and his friend." He took a deep breath. "We couldn't have asked for any better, Martha."

"No. Clark's always been a good boy..." In so many ways, it was just like he was thirteen again, barely able to sleep for excitement over the new school year starting. It was fall, and he should've been already off to college, like the friends he'd had -- who were still alive -- were doing. And there Clark was, probably barely able to sleep for excitement at going home. "It's just so good to have him back, Jonathan, I'd hoped but..." She leaned into him, so close to tears.

"I know," Jonathan whispered to her, pausing in the hall. "I know, Martha. It's all right. It's all going to be all right. I promise." A promise he'd made her more than once, and feared he wouldn't be able to keep. He was going to manage it, though.

They had their son back.

They could manage anything.

Lex had never thought he'd live so long. His nineteenth year had been his best and his worst, and the thought that maybe he'd live to see a quarter of a century, even a couple more years, had been a fascinating pipe-dream.

But he'd done it. He'd lived to see twenty four years old (close enough to a quarter of a century), and even be free when he did it. Really free, with the first birthday party that hadn't left him hurting inside. Martha had baked a cake for him, strawberry with sweet, light icing, and Dick and Bruce had sent presents, and Jonathan had hugged him, and Clark had gotten him a stuffed bear. And Julian was there with him and safe, even if he did get icing on his nose.

There wasn't anyone there to yell at them for things like that, for relaxing and teasing each other a little.

It had been a really good day, the day before. And now it was another day that seemed just as full of promise as he waited in the loft, looking out of the window. Julian had slept in and was taking his time getting dressed. He was going to help Martha can things, while Lex and Clark and Jonathan went into town to buy groceries and things.

Everything seemed so good. It didn't explain why he'd started to have nightmares.

Luckily enough, his thrashing didn't hurt Clark much. It woke him, sometimes, but that was comfort in and of itself. Between Clark and the stuffed cow and his purple bear, at least Lex felt safe when he was awake.

If only he could feel safe when he was asleep.

"You boys ready to go?" Jonathan asked, knocking his boots off on the back porch. "Martha, you wanted some of those rise-on-your-own pizzas, didn't you? For the boys?"

"Yes, get some of those, and don't forget the apple-sauce this time!"

Lex shifted from the window of the loft, and moved to walk back down the stairs. He liked, too, that he could see the house from the loft and that from the house you could see the loft. It made it part of the house in a way, a quiet part that had a slightly grubby sofa that Clark loved in a happy nostalgic way. It was great for naps, and a couple of times during the day it was right in a sun-spot.

"Hey, Lex." Clark didn't startle him, much, even though he had a big coffee can full of shit-covered chicken eggs. He was grinning and happy, had been happy the first morning he'd rolled over at five to help with the cows. He laughed like hell when the chickens tried to peck him.

Poor chickens and their wounded beaks. Not that Lex was going to step in and help, because he was having enough trouble sleeping, let alone getting up early. Clark was a farm boy, and it made him happy.

"Hey," Lex drawled, lips curling to a smile as he stopped beside Clark at the bottom of the stairs. "So we're going into town today? Shouldn't you get the chicken crap off your hands?"

"Yeah," Clark said, "but I have to give Mom the eggs, anyway. You wanna give me a kiss before I go?" That was easy and teasing and very very very fun. Kissing was nice. Kissing felt good.

"Then, I'll wash my hands and we can go to town. Promise."

"All right. It's not supposed to rain today, is it?" Because he'd felt bad about the last day it had rained, and he'd gotten mud on his jeans helping with the cows. Martha had used a lot of stainstick to get them cleanish again.

Before Clark could answer, though, Lex leaned in and gave him a proper, toe-twitch worthy kiss. Not a full lean in, because Clark had chicken shit on his hands and a can of eggs. But close.

"Wow," Clark whispered a minute later, expression wonderfully dazed. "Wow. Lex." Obviously, it was as good for him as it was for Lex, no matter how tired either of them got.

The fact that he managed to hold onto his eggs was a miracle.

Lex smirked to himself as he stepped back, and then around Clark to head for the barn doors. "Let's get going. We can wow more later?"

"Wow," Clark agreed happily, trailing after Lex with his egg bucket in hand. "Sure. And maybe we'll have time for a nap..." Which meant a rubbing against each other on the pull-out sofa in the loft, and then maybe some real sleep. It felt like the only time Lex could sleep.

When it was sunny and bright. Maybe Bruce had nightmares, too, and that was why he wore the stupid costume with pointy ears. Batman. Hah. Then again, Bruce didn't seem like he napped much, either. "Maybe," Lex agreed in the way that was always 'yes'. He kept just a little ahead of Clark, and help the back door open for Clark so he could duck in and clean his hands. Jonathan was out on the porch, so Lex just grinned at him.

"Smallville lives up to its name, right?"

"Yeah, son. It's not exactly bustling, but we kind of like it that way," Jonathan drawled, grinning as Clark gave the eggs to his mother and quickly went about washing his hands. "We'll head by the store and then, maybe, if you boys feel like it, we could stop and get a cup of coffee..."

"I want one!" Julian requested happily, hurrying down the stairs. "Bring me one, pleaaase?"

"You've slept like a dog," Lex teased him. "So maybe, just maybe, you need a really big coffee to wake you up. Don't worry, we won't forget you. Do you want some, Martha?" That could be his responsibility for the trip, making sure everyone got the fancy coffee they wanted.

"That sounds wonderful, sweetheart. Jonathan knows what I like best, so I think it's safe to send all of you along," Martha laughed, leaning up to kiss his cheek the way she would Clark's. "Julian, what do you like?"

"Lots of whipped cream," the redhead blurted, grinning at Lex.

"I don't think they do coffee-flavored fluff, but we'll see. They might." Lex winked, then darted out to scruff up Julian's hair when he got close enough. "Be good for Martha."

"Aw, Lex..." Julian was grinning, though, and he let him do it. "Just don't forget my fluff." He stuck out his tongue.

Clark caught it between his fingers, appearing out of nowhere with a grin. "Hey, that's not nice!"

"Ah oh ih ee!" Julian protested, grabbing Clark's wrist. They were laughing, though.

Julian got one last pat on his head, and Lex leaned down, grinning to himself. "I won't forget the fluff. C'mon, Clark. He probably needs that if he can get a spoon away from Martha." Lex straightened, and cast Martha a slightly hopeful smile. It was always a hopeful smile because she looked so much like their mother had. Julian had pictures in his things, and from picture to Martha, there wasn't much difference. Maybe, except that their mother had been a little taller, a little thinner. But she'd been sick, too.

And Martha, thank God, was healthy.

A little injured, maybe -- a faint limp that hadn't been noticeable in their initial glee, just as Jonathan's stiff arm had passed beneath the radar. They were there, though, and well, and the kind of people who felt and gave love as if it was the only way to do things.

Maybe it was the only way to do things. The way that normal, real people did things. Even if it wasn't, it made Lex smile and feel at ease when he turned away with a little wave to join Jonathan outside. They were going to ride in the truck, and Jonathan had shiftily promised that he'd give them a little driving lesson before they went home, if they were up to it.

Lex hoped coffee would wake him up, or that he didn't doze off while grocery shopping.

"Hey, Dad?" Clark asked on the way to the truck. "Can we, um, stop by Fordman's?" It was a secret little desire for candy, Lex was sure. He remembered Clark whispering to him about trying to take a candy bar once and getting in trouble. He'd told Clark that wasn't enough to make him bad, or to deserve what Lionel did.

God, that memory felt like an eternity ago. Back when Clark had first arrived and he'd tried to get him to understand that Lionel had nothing to do with good or bad.

"Sure, son," Jonathan agreed. Lex got the feeling that he knew what Clark wanted.

Just the fact that Jonathan guessed and went along with it made Lex smile a little more, stepping down off of the porch and waiting for Clark to catch up. The air smelled really nice, not wet and clinging like in Gotham. Even the rain was cleaner feeling.

Everything was just so good. It made him want to throw his arms up to the sky and just feel, and sometimes he did. Sometimes, it was so good he could hardly stand it.

"Lex..."

"Yes?" Lex let out a relaxed sigh of air, twisting to see where Clark was. It probably wasn't a good time to just relish things, no; they were supposed to be heading into town.

And when did Clark and Jonathan get all the way over to the truck? "Coming!"

Coming, and glad for the happiest days of his life, with more spread before him, more for Clark, more for Julian.

More for all of them. Better for all of them.

And everything was going to be all right.