Title: Heart of Darkness
Author: dogpoet
Genre: AU, Drama, Romance
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Exodus
Summary: Far from civilization, two people fell in love without speaking.

Disclaimer: I'm not getting paid for it. They belong to Al and Miles and DC.

Thanks to my betas: Nortylak, Chasethecat, and Supergrover24, who whipped this story into shape. And to all the LJ readers who totally enabled.

Other stuff: The poems are Stephen Mitchell's translations of "The Panther" and "Lament" by Rainer Maria Rilke. Though Lex would be reading in the original German. The poem near the end is by Sappho.

I'm sure there are some gross historical, geographical, and scientific inaccuracies in this story, even with all of my research. But it's an adventure! So just have fun!

HEART OF DARKNESS

Lex stood beside the cage, staring beyond the bars to the creature inside. Untamed, speechless, unkempt, he had long ago ceased trying to escape. Instead, he regarded at Lex with silent apathy, his spirit broken. The green rocks strapped to his wrists prevented him from moving.

Despite his fear, Lex stepped closer. There was something noble about the creature. Beneath the dirt and blood, his face looked young and unmarred. His large eyes watched Lex's every move.

All around them, the jungle pulsed with energy and rustled with evening noises. It was almost dark. Soon it would be dangerous for Lex to be away from the fire and the safety of the cabin. Yet he stayed, transfixed by this... being his father had found on his latest expedition. The party had ventured to a place deep in the Congo to find this animal the natives described as "wind in the trees."

"Lex!" his father's voice called out in the darkness.

"I'm here, Father."

"Why do you insist upon keeping company with that savage? Come to supper." Lionel came and stood beside Lex, peering into the cage.

"What do you plan on doing with him?"

"I'm a scientist, Lex. My job is to solve the mysteries of the universe. And this is something no other man has yet studied. Do you know what riches await me when I publish my findings?"

"You already are rich."

"Few things are more important than money, but immortality is one of them. This creature is the discovery of a lifetime. I'll be remembered with the likes of Darwin and Newton."

Lionel ushered him away from the cage. Lex gazed one last time over his shoulder at the hunched shadow before he walked side by side with his father toward the small camp that had become his home.

Since his mother's death, something inside Lex was different. Quiet. A life of scientific inquiry and isolation from his peers had only exacerbated the trait. Among the members of his father's expedition, he was an object of fascination and study. In the city, Lex was simply a freak. He wasn't unaware of people whispering as he passed on the street. He had more than once overheard comments on his hairlessness. He least minded the natives, to whom he was no more a curiosity than any other white man.

At seventeen, he knew little of the society of other young gentlemen and women, and would likely never blend into their world. His upbringing had rendered him shy and awkward. Instead of attempting to succeed where he could not, he buried himself in books, and in learning the flora and fauna of the region.

His father criticized him for wasting time on weeds, but Lex found African plants fascinating and various, so different from those of America. Many of them had medicinal uses, which he had learned from his own research, and from the occasional tribesman whom he befriended. One day, the information would be useful, and Lex's many sketchbooks filled with documentation would be worth something.

Lex had long wished for a companion with whom to share his discoveries. Among his father's men, no one took the time to speak to Lionel Luthor's son. After the accident, they had studied him, but no more. For the most part, Lionel left him to his own devices, too concerned with excursions and experiments to bother with his freak offspring.

Thus, Lex found himself by the cage the next day. He watched as one of his father's men, Dr. Green, drew blood from the creature, bandaging the wound haphazardly and without care. When the creature had first been brought back to camp, he had acted like a wild animal, nostrils flaring, pulling at the rock-laden bonds that restrained him, but now the life was gone from his eyes. He stared dully at Lex, mired in his own filth. Lex wondered why Dr. Green had done nothing to clean the cage, or to make the animal comfortable.

After Dr. Green had departed to his makeshift laboratory, Lex neared the cage.

He looked like any other white man, but Lionel had said this was no human. A party had set out that morning to examine the area where the creature had been found. Were there others like him? Where had he come from? What was he?

"Do you talk?" Lex asked softly, grasping two of the unforgiving bars that separated him from the animal.

There was no response. The creature lay on the hard, metal floor of the cage and simply looked at Lex.

Lex had long been taught that compassion was a sign of weakness. But, in his heart, he disagreed. To show compassion for one's enemies was the sign of a good leader, one to whom subjects would remain loyal.

The camp was not far from the river, and Lex easily found two buckets. His life in the tropics had initially made him sick -- dysentery and fever, among other things, had plagued him. After the accident, however, his body had recovered miraculously, and he had never since been sick. Deformed, yes, but not sick. He was strong and fit, able to lift heavy objects, or erect shelters when called upon to do so. Carrying two buckets of water back to the cage was the work of only a minute.

Arriving at the cage, he puzzled over how to proceed. The cage was locked. As best he could, Lex heaved the water inside and washed the filth away. He wished he could enter so that he might do a more thorough job. As much as he dreaded speaking with his father, he determined that he would ask that night for the key.

After he had used up all the water, he felt better. The creature looked less forlorn there on the floor of the cage. His black hair was matted sadly, and his arm bled through the bandage where Dr. Green had sloppily withdrawn the blood.

Lex reached inside the cage and tentatively touched the creature's arm. There was no response, and Lex grew bolder. He took hold of the creature's hand and drew the arm toward the bars. Lex could just barely reach the wound. He pressed down upon it, trying to stem the flow of blood. A minute passed. Lex released, watching to see if the bleeding recommenced. With relief, Lex noted it had ceased.

"There," he said, stroking the skin gently. Lex rarely touched anyone, and he was surprised by the smooth warmth under his hand. There was so much sadness in the creature's eyes. He seemed to be pleading with Lex, as if he wanted to tell his story. What would he say if he could speak?

Lex sat on a rock beside the cage and opened his sketchbook. Flipping past the pages of plant sketches and descriptions, he began anew. His father would study the creature's biology, but Lex wrote of other things, more questions than answers. More than anything, Lex wanted to know what the creature was thinking. Did he feel pain? Was he sad? Or did he feel nothing at all? Lex wrote these questions down, along with his observations of the creature's condition.

Even after all this was done, Lex continued to sit on the rock. Five feet from the cage, he looked into the creature's eyes. He knew next to nothing of this being -- this man -- yet he identified with it. In those eyes, he saw a little of himself.

The next day, Lex entered the cage with his buckets and locked the gate behind him. He had convinced his father that neglecting the creature was detrimental to the research project. After all, if the creature died, there would be nothing to study. Lionel had reluctantly ceded his key, along with a green stone to be used if the creature attempted escape or violence. Lex could see no need, since the creature didn't even stir when approached.

Lex washed the floors as best he could. Then he knelt on the metal and offered a dish of fruit. The creature made no effort to help himself.

"Do these hurt?" Lex asked, fingering the bracelets, thinking of the additional stone around his neck. The animal almost wasn't alive at all. His breathing was shallow, and the his skin lacked the color it had had when he'd first been brought to camp. It pained Lex to see someone so subdued, so enclosed. It clearly wasn't the natural state of things.

Lex broke off a piece of fruit and held it toward the creature's mouth. "You'll die if you don't eat."

Slowly, the creature's mouth opened. Lex pushed the piece of fruit inside and watched the deliberate chewing.

A water dish lay a short distance away, but it was obvious to Lex that it was unattainable. He reached for the dish and contemplated how he would get the water from the dish to the creature's mouth.

"I'm going to help you sit up." Awkwardly, Lex took hold of the creature's shoulders and propped him up against the bars of the cage. Once in position, inertia seemed to keep him there. Lex brought the bowl of water to the creature's lips and tilted it. The creature seemed to have no idea how to drink from a bowl, and most of the liquid spilled down over his face as he attempted to slurp. Lex altered the angle of the dish, which seemed to ease the process.

Over the next hour, Lex helped the being eat an entire dish of food and drink the rest of the water. Then, with a wet cloth, he wiped the dirt and blood from the creature's skin. Instead of shying away from the contact, the creature seemed to enjoy being cleaned. He sighed and Lex noticed that his breathing was deeper, more relaxed. Beneath the grime was such a human face. It couldn't not be human, Lex reasoned. No animal had ever looked at Lex with such awareness and understanding.

The face was not only human, but young. He looked to be roughly Lex's age, though Lex knew that other species aged much differently. The human-like creature closed his eyes as Lex worked gently to clean the small cuts.

"You don't have a name, do you? I should give you one." Lex considered the many names he could give to this... boy. This man? Or, perhaps, like Lex, somewhere in between.

Many years earlier, before his mother had died, before his father had become obsessed with scientific discovery, the Luthors had lived in a brownstone mansion in New York. At the time, a man named Mr. Clark had been their gardener. Escaping his father's temper, and then his mother's sickness, Lex had often retreated to the back gardens. There, Mr. Clark had shown him the many varieties of flowers and vegetables, and had explained plant breeding. Even as a small boy, Lex had taken an interest, and had absorbed all of the gardener's teachings. Lex didn't remember Mr. Clark's first name, but Clark would do. He had nothing but fond memories of the old man who had been gentle and kind in a household full of hostility.

"Clark," Lex said and smiled at the sad face before him. "I'm going to cut your hair before you get lice."

Lex removed a small folding scissor from his pocket. It had been a gift from his father, one of the few that had proven useful. He unfolded it and began cutting the dark, dense mat that the creature's hair had become. The hair didn't fall away in strands, but remained clumped together as Lex cut. He left only a few inches of hair, removing well over a foot.

When he was done, he surveyed his work. Now the creature looked more human than ever, like a boy Lex might have known had he gone to school like other children. He felt better having named this strange being.

During all of Lex's ministrations, Clark had remained motionless, either incapacitated by the rocks, or afraid of the consequences should he make a move. But, as Lex ran a hand through the black locks, he heard a sigh. The boy's eyes closed, and he moved his head slightly, pressing against Lex's hand.

Lex remained frozen for a moment, not wanting to startle the creature by moving suddenly. How long had it been, Lex wondered, since the boy had felt a gentle touch? Had he ever? Who were his parents? Where were the rest of his kind? Was he alone in the world as Lex was?

Lex continued to stroke the boy's hair for another minute. Then, afraid he might be caught doing so, he withdrew his hand. The green eyes opened to stare at him.

"I can't," Lex said. He gathered the mat of hair. His father would no doubt want to examine it.

After exiting, Lex relocked the cage. He stood for a moment, however, waiting to see if the creature would move, or if he would remain as he was: propped against metal bars, a forlorn expression on his face.

Lex reached through the bars to touch Clark's arm. "I'll be back later," he promised.

For the next week, Lex continued his duties, cleaning the cage and bringing fresh food and water. He spent the rest of his time sitting nearby writing in his journal. Though Clark never spoke and, in fact, rarely moved, Lex enjoyed the company.

Lionel had not reproved Lex for cutting the creature's hair, nor did he complain that Lex was being idle. Lex continued to help around the camp, sacrificing only his own scientific explorations in order to sit beside the creature's cage.

He overheard one of his father's men saying that Lex had bats in the belfry. But Lex was used to such criticisms and chose not to take offense. Instead, he clipped the creature's toenails and fingernails and brought them to his father for study. He noted the dulling of the skin, and the loss of luster in the hair. He might have been eating, but Clark was slowly dying in the cage. Whether his condition resulted from sadness or from lack of some essential food, Lex was not sure. He had argued with Dr. Green about the matter, but was paid no heed. Lex could only sit and watch the deterioration, wondering what exactly his father hoped to accomplish through his cruelty.

Lex took to reading aloud to Clark. Mr. Clark had told him that music increased plant growth rates. There was no music in the jungle, but there was Shakespeare. There was Rilke. It had been over six months since Lex had last visited one of the bigger cities along the coast. The considerable British population in Cameroon provided a selection of books more diverse than Lex could have hoped, and it was with sheer abandon that he had selected the titles he would transport back into the jungle with him. The books were his only contact with the outside world.

Lex perched next to the cage and read softly, hoping the words would somehow bring comfort.

"His vision, from the constantly passing bars, has grown so weary that it cannot hold anything else. It seems to him there are a thousand bars, and behind the bars, no world.

As he paces in cramped circles, over and over, the movement of his powerful soft strides is like a ritual dance around a center in which a mighty will stands paralyzed.

Only at times, the curtain of the pupils lifts, quietly. An image enters in,
rushes down through the tensed, arrested muscles, plunges into the heart and is gone."

When Lex finished the poem, he looked up quickly. He thought he saw a flicker in the boy's eyes, but that was foolishness. The creature couldn't speak, couldn't understand. Lionel had said he was an animal, nothing more. Lex chided himself for spending every waking hour beside this cage, reading and writing. It was a waste of time. No wonder his father's men thought he wasn't right in the head.

No creature, however savage, deserved the treatment Clark received. Lex watched as Dr. Green took more blood samples, watched as Dr. Green poked and prodded and examined, looking in ears and eyes and mouth and nose... Lex had been through it all before, and was sure Clark disliked it as much as Lex had. The day Dr. Green collected a fecal sample with a metal probe, it was too much. Lex could see the pain in Clark's eyes, the humiliation... In that moment, he wasn't an animal, but a person suffering at the hands of a cruel captor.

It had to stop.

Another talk with Lionel was necessary.

It had taken all of Lex's skills of persuasion and debate to convince his father that his prize specimen would die if he continued to be held under current conditions.

"What would you propose? Letting him run free? You think he'll stay within the camp because he likes it?"

"I'm saying, Father, that he needs some stimulation. He needs to walk. His muscles are atrophied. He's filthy, and there's only so much of him I can clean him with a cloth and a bucket."

"I know you think of him as your pet, Lex, but unlike a dog, he will not follow at your heel."

"Then let me make him a leash. I'll put small rocks in it to keep him under control. The rocks around his wrists are too big. He can't even lift a hand to feed himself."

Lionel stared off into the distance considering Lex's suggestion. "We're no closer to solving the mystery. His biology is unlike anything I've ever seen. He is neither human nor ape. A remarkable discovery."

"All the more reason to keep him healthy."

"Fine. Make the leash, but do not trust that beast for one moment. Not one moment, is that understood?"

"Yes, Father. I'll be careful."

Lex concealed his joy until he was out of his father's sight. Then he set about making the leash that would allow Clark the tiniest of freedoms.

It took some time to construct the leash. Lex needed to restrain the creature, but not prevent him from moving about. With much deliberation, Lex used slightly more than half the amount of the rock that was already strapped to Clark. He imbedded the stones by weaving the vines around them. He had decided to fashion something more like a harness than a leash. Years ago, in a fit of anger, Lionel had grabbed Lex by the neck, and had nearly choked him. Lex had never forgotten the sensation of being unable to breathe. He imagined that having a collar around one's neck would be similarly unpleasant, and he would never impose that upon another being.

In the end, the leash consisted of straps that would pass over the creature's shoulders, held in place by cross-straps over his chest and back. The apparatus fastened behind, where it would be difficult to reach without assistance. Lionel had insisted, too, that the creature's wrists be bound to eliminate the possibility of escaping the harness.

Lex wished more than ever that he had some way of communicating with the being. He wanted to tell Clark what he was planning to do. Lex supposed that, without comprehension, the process might be frightening.

It pained him to do it, but Lex had to put the leash on before removing the bracelets. The double dose of green rocks had a visible effect on Clark. His veins pulsed with a green glow and he bent over in pain, unable even to sit up. His eyes met Lex's for one brief instant, begging for an end to his suffering. As quickly as he could, Lex hurled the bracelets out of the cage. Once they were gone, Lex could see the change. Clark's pallor improved, and he glanced around as if seeing the world for the first time.

Lex wondered if he had used enough of the rock to restrain the creature should it become necessary. Was the creature smart enough to attempt to fool him, to feign weakness where there was none?

Lex stood and helped Clark to his feet. No sooner was he upright than he nearly collapsed to the floor again. His muscles were weak from disuse. Lex was surprised by the creature's height -- he was several inches taller than Lex -- over six feet. He leaned on Lex as he grew accustomed to standing. Lex couldn't imagine sitting in a cage for nearly two weeks. It was barbaric.

"I'm going to take you to bathe," Lex said, binding the creature's wrists as he had been instructed to do. He opened the door of the cage.

At first, Clark simply stood at the threshold, unable to comprehend his new freedom. But, after a moment, and with Lex's help, he descended the two steps to the ground.

Once they were outside, Lex fastened the tether securely to the cage and helped the creature to sit on a nearby stool. Keeping an eye on his charge, Lex washed the floor of the cage with several buckets of water he had brought earlier. Rather than tugging at the leash as Lex had expected, the creature simply sat still and watched Lex's every movement. Washing the cage seemed futile, but, at least for a day, the creature would have a clean place to sleep. When he was done, Lex untied the creature and began leading him toward the forest, away from the encampment.

"I'm taking you to a waterfall," Lex said. "You'll like it."

Lex wondered at Clark's ability to walk barefoot. The ground consisted of packed soil, with very little leaf cover. Ferns grew, moist and green, in the near darkness of the forest. All around them, birds chattered noisily.

The first years of Lex's life had been spent in the city, a place vastly different from where he now lived. Lex had come to respect the rainforest, had grown to love its cathedrals of vegetation, arching ceilings of foliage so high above his head that he could not even see what animals inhabited the canopy. It was beautiful, and quiet in a way the city could never be. The sounds of birds rustling, insects carrying on in their endless quests -- it had all ceased to register with Lex. His ears were always alert, however, for anything out of the ordinary. Danger was to be expected, and one of his father's men had trained Lex with a pistol so he might never be defenseless. Lex carried the gun in a holster at his hip. He had never had to use it.

The journey to the waterfall was slower than usual. Clark tried to keep pace with Lex, but the green rocks made even walking a struggle. Lex consoled himself, justifying that he had to keep the creature from escaping, and that this was better than the cage. He wondered why the rocks affected only the creature and no one else. What would Clark be like when free from their power? Lex didn't dare attempt to find out. He knew how difficult it had been for his father and their men to capture the creature. They had spoken of unfathomable strength and speed, and an uncanny ability to move through the trees. As yet, no other beings like Clark had been found. Clark was one-of-a-kind.

Lex and the creature walked on, the leash hanging slack between them. After a time, the sound of rushing water reached Lex's ears. He could smell the water, even feel the cool air coming from the vicinity of the small river. This was his favorite place. The men rarely came out this way, preferring instead to bathe indoors with a cloth and bucket. It was understandable. There were leeches, mosquitoes, and other more sinister animals to be encountered in the jungle. The local tribesmen maintained distant but civil relations with the white men under Lionel's command. Nevertheless, one had to be on guard at all times.

There was sheer joy to be had from bathing in running water. The waterfall flowed exuberantly over a twenty-foot drop, and beneath its course was a deep, cold pool with no leeches. It was a beautiful spot that Lex liked all the more for its seclusion.

The path to the pool was rocky and slippery, but Clark followed Lex without resistance. Lex had failed to consider his clothing. He wore the standard linen trousers and dress shirt, along with heavy leather sandals. He would have to undress before getting in the water. He had never been naked before another person, not since the accident. He had always felt awkward and self-conscious because his father's men had told him he was an oddity. But the creature was not really a person. Was he?

The pair paused on a flat rock and Lex glanced at Clark to read his expression. Clark wasn't looking at Lex, but rather at the water. Longing imbued his features. Clark would likely think little of nakedness, Lex realized. After all, he was accustomed to walking naked. He had probably never worn clothing in his life. Since he wasn't human, he wouldn't be prone to make the judgments his father's men had made. Lex doubted Clark would even notice the differences between them.

Lex, on the other hand, had noticed from the first. He had been curious about the creature's anatomy. From his observations, Lex had found that the creature resembled a human in every manner. Lex had refrained from too detailed an inspection, but now that the creature stood so close, Lex let his eyes travel over the grubby and emaciated figure, lingering for just a moment on the dark curls and prominent sex that hung between the creature's legs. The sight should not have made the heat rise to Lex's face, but it did. He had never had that reaction to seeing the same organ on a chimpanzee, or any other animal. But Clark was not like them. Lex wished he could have seen him before his capture, when he had been happy and free, healthy and strong.

Lex tied the leash to a nearby tree and began to undress. He laid the pistol within easy reach, then unbuttoned his shirt, folded it neatly, and set it down. The sandals came next. As he unfastened his pants, he ventured to look over at his companion. Clark stared at him unabashedly, his eyes wide and watchful. Lex hesitated, his hand instinctively covering his bare groin. The creature was just curious. Why shouldn't he be? With resolve, Lex stepped out of his trousers, avoiding Clark's gaze. Before he could change his mind, he unfastened his shorts and added them to the pile of clothing on the ground. Then he unknotted the leash and picked up the washcloths.

Here Lex was faced with another dilemma. Unless he untied the creature's hands, he would be unable to bathe properly. Lex hesitated but a moment before loosening the leather strips that bound his captive's hands. Then they both entered the water until they were shoulder deep in the cold. It was refreshing to find relief from the humidity and close heat of the jungle.

The creature, suppressed by the green rocks, made no attempt to escape. He moved idly, occasionally ducking under the water to wet his hair. He shook his head playfully, scattering Lex with droplets of water. Lex smiled, pleased that the creature could finally move about only slightly restricted. Experimentally, he splashed water toward the creature to see what he would do. Clark seemed surprised at first, but then he splashed back, dousing Lex with a small torrent.

What had begun hesitantly escalated into a full-scale battle. Lex laughed, unable to remember the last time anyone had played with him. It seemed that much of his life had been spent behaving as an adult. Clark had no such expectations.

It soon became apparent, however, that their horseplay had taxed the creature's energy. He slowly made his way to the stones at the side of the pool and sat resting. A moment later, Lex joined him. Clark had been transformed by his bath. He was truly beautiful, Lex thought, eyes flickering unintentionally toward Clark's penis. Embarrassed, he quickly shifted his gaze away.

It amazed Lex that a creature could look so human, even act human, and yet not speak. He knew from experience that apes communicated through gestures and sounds. The creature, however, had not uttered a single syllable. Nor had he made any attempt to communicate with Lex through gestures. Yet Lex would swear that the creature possessed some level of understanding when Lex read to him, impossible as it seemed.

During his extensive time abroad, Lex had out of necessity become an autodidact. He had taught himself sign language and he determined now to attempt teaching it to Clark. Without bothering to cover his nakedness, Lex scooped up a handful of water and held it up in front of Clark. "Water," he said, then made the sign for water.

Clark regarded him strangely. Lex repeated the word and the gesture, then scooped up more water and said the word. Clark seemed to understand. He made the gesture.

"That's it," Lex said, proud of his accomplishment.

In the next half hour, as they rested, Lex taught Clark the signs for "tree" and "rock," and finally the sign for "Lex."

Lex could see that these exertions were taking their toll on the creature, and reluctantly, he stood and dressed. Even more reluctantly did he bind the creature's hands again and take up the tether to lead him back to camp.

When the pair had traversed roughly half the distance, Lex noted that the creature was limping. He stopped walking. "What's wrong?" he asked, more out of habit than any expectation receiving an answer. He tugged at Clark's hand, indicating that he should sit. Clark folded his legs and settled on the ground. Lex knelt beside him and examined the soles of his feet.

It was difficult to see in the dim light of the forest, but Lex finally located the culprit: a thorn lodged in Clark's heel. Lex removed his pocket knife from his pocket, took hold of Clark's foot, and used the tweezers to remove the thorn. Afterwards, he rubbed the irritated skin firmly with his thumb.

"There," Lex said. "Is that better?" He was so close to Clark that he could hear his breathing and sense his body heat. Distracted, Lex set Clark's foot down.

"Foot," he said, and made the sign. Lex examined the sole of the other foot as well, but found it clean. He rubbed the arch, feeling the need to soothe. When he looked up, Clark was smiling at him. Lex's momentary flush of happiness and satisfaction was tempered by the awareness of what his father would say if he could see the scene. Lex slid the tweezers back into their slot on the knife and replaced the tool in his pocket.

The rest of the walk was excruciatingly slow. The journey had been exhausting for Clark, and Lex was concerned that he had pushed too hard.

As they neared the camp, Lex heard a commotion of raised voices crying out with excitement. For a moment, he wondered if he had kept Clark away too long. He would never forgive himself if his father were angry at the transgression. His fears were allayed, however, when upon entering the clearing, no one paid him any mind. Without a word, he escorted Clark back to the cage and fastened the bracelets back on his wrists.

It was with misgiving that he locked the cage, leaving Clark in a heap on the cold metal floor.

Just then, Dr. Green hurried up to him, excitement plain on his face. "We've found something!" he exclaimed. "It's like nothing I've ever seen!" He held his hand out to show Lex an octagonal metal disk etched with foreign symbols. "One of the tribesmen found it in the mountains."

"What do you suppose it is?" Lex asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Among us, we know forty-two languages, none of which is represented by these symbols. Nor does this metal respond to any chemical tests. I can only assume it's a rare element. Strange indeed!" Dr. Green's hand closed around the disk and he strode off again.

Lex stole a glance at the cage. He had left Clark sitting, leaning against the bars on the north side. But now Clark was alert, the bars on the south side grasped in his hands.

Having lived with his father all his life, Lex knew that silence was his most powerful weapon. He had learned reticence at an early age, for loquaciousness only served to get him in trouble with Lionel. Therefore, Lex did not mention to Lionel his newfound ability to communicate (albeit minimally) with the creature. Nor did he disclose the creature's reaction to the discovery of the strange metal disk. Lionel was older and wiser, but Lex possessed powers of deduction and discernment beyond his years. He determined to unravel Clark's mysteries without Lionel's aid or knowledge.

Whereas, in Lionel's hands, science was a weapon of destruction, a means of manipulating power, to Lex it was a tool of discovery and enlightenment. He sought to understand, rather than to abuse. His motivation for learning was curiosity, not greed.

On a quest to gather more information about the disk and the strange, green rocks, Lionel set out on another expedition. He led this one himself, lured by the thrill of a potentially lucrative mystery.

Lex opted to remain at the camp, rather than accompany his father. Lionel expressed surprise, since Lex usually took the opportunity to travel farther afield and expand his herbarium, but he granted his consent and, along with most of the men, left for destinations distant.

The camp was oddly quiet without his father's energetic presence. Lionel was like a force of nature: impossible to resist. Lex enjoyed the peace, and relished the minimal supervision assigned to Clark. Noting how much Clark had seemed to enjoy their last excursion, Lex determined to take him out every day. In the week immediately following Lionel's departure, Lex could see the change in Clark. The walks seemed to be making him stronger and healthier. Only good could come from less time in the cage, and more time moving about.

Clark had ceased to be a creature of study, and had instead become a companion who happened to be of scientific interest. Lex stopped recording his observations in his notebook, relying instead upon his memory. He did not trust Lionel, and he knew there was no hiding the notebook should his father ever wish to see it.

Once Clark had understood the concept of sign language, he was an apt pupil, stopping on their walks to indicate things for which he wanted words. After the second day, Lex stopped binding Clark's hands, though he continued to use the leash.

It was on their way to the waterfall on the seventh day that Clark stopped in a rare patch of sunshine. He closed his eyes and tilted his face up like a flower. Lex didn't push Clark, but instead waited for him. Clark pointed skyward.

"Sun," Lex said, signing.

Clark tested the word, then gazed skyward again. He looked peaceful and happy, standing in the light. After a few minutes, he had apparently had his fill and began walking again with Lex at his side.

The trip to the falls seemed to be growing less difficult, and Clark was more playful than he had been the first time. Lex wondered if he should be using more green rocks in the leash. The thought of doing so bothered him, even though he knew that Lionel would never forgive him if Clark escaped. Lack of forgiveness, however, was the least of the punishments Lionel was likely to dole out under such circumstances.

"Lex," Clark signed, then waded into the pool until he was shoulder deep in water.

It was endearing. Clark seemed to sign Lex's name not as a way of getting attention, but as a way of expressing happiness: he was pleased to be in the water, away from the camp. It had crossed Lex's mind that Clark might not be alive if he hadn't taken it upon himself to make these excursions.

Silently, Lex stripped off his clothes and submerged himself in the cool water. He had grown accustomed to being naked with Clark, perhaps because Clark had no inhibitions about his own lack of attire. He was completely comfortable in his own body, a quality Lex envied.

Of course, Clark was beautiful, where Lex was not. Lex had always been ashamed of the way he looked, ashamed of his "deformity," as his father called it. Even after he had filled out a bit and developed muscles, he had felt inadequate. Next to his father, whose mane of hair and vibrant intensity bowled people over, Lex was a pale ghost, thin and insubstantial.

Lex's train of thought was interrupted by a splash of water in the face. Clark wanted to play. Lex joined in, conscious of the fact that Clark looked at him with a gentle adoration completely lacking in other parts of Lex's life. They waged a mock battle for several minutes before Clark grew tired and retreated to the rocks.

Bathing was less fun alone and Lex followed him. They sat side by side, catching their breath. Lex used the washcloth to dry himself, then he withdrew his notebook from his satchel. Clark watched with interest as Lex put pencil to paper. Lex wanted to perform an experiment, one he was sure no one had attempted with gorillas. He scooted closer and put the notebook on Clark's knee. Then he folded Clark's fingers into place around the pencil.

"Lex," Lex said aloud, then made the sign. He pointed to the letters on the page and said the word again. He could see Clark processing the information as he studied the dark marks.

"Lex," Clark signed, then pointed to the word.

"Now write it." Lex took Clark's hand in his and guided the pencil over the paper. Clark's hand was clumsy and inexperienced, but after a few tries, his coordination had improved enough that the letters were legible. Lex smiled. He had just taught Clark to write and, in essence, to read. Never mind that Clark's vocabulary was still limited to nouns. He had understood the concept of the written word.

"Clark," Clark signed, then handed the pencil to Lex.

Lex thought he might now understand the term "scientific fervor," that sense of accomplishment derived from a great discovery. He wrote Clark's name, leaning in to reach the book balanced on Clark's legs.

Clark took the pencil, then paused. He transferred the instrument to his right hand, looking to Lex as if for confirmation. Lex helped him adjust his grip. Clark copied the new letters, this time with much more ease.

"Amazing," Lex said.

A smile lit Clark's face. He took Lex's right hand in his left, and continued to hold it as he practiced the word again. Lex felt himself flush at the gesture. He wasn't accustomed to being touched, except in the most clinical ways. No one had ever held his hand. As unused to it as he was, he didn't pull away. There was something pleasing about the contact.

They practiced several more words for which Clark knew the signs. His vocabulary had now reached nearly two hundred words. Not enough for conversation, but enough that Lex was impressed with his memory and his logic. The thought of someday being able to talk to Clark gave him a thrill.

As the dim forest light began to fade, Lex reluctantly stood and stowed the notebook and pencil. He found that he was covered in insect bites from sitting naked and still for so long. He was lucky he healed quickly and could not contract malaria.

Clark stood beside him, watching as Lex dressed. He put a finger out and touched one of the welts on Lex's chest.

"Mosquitoes," Lex signed and said the word.

When Clark did not remove his hand, Lex shivered, unsettled by the touch. He took Clark's hand and moved it away before buttoning his shirt. Was it strange to feel good when Clark touched him? Was it wrong, Lex wondered?

Lex finished dressing and he and Clark set out toward the camp. The leash was now a formality. Lex barely held onto it as they walked, confident that Clark would not, or could not, attempt to escape. He had no reason to trust Clark -- why would any creature choose to remain captive if he had a chance to be free? -- but he did. Not everything in life was rational and scientific.

They hadn't gone far when Clark stopped suddenly. "Lex," he signed. But there was no affection, only panic. He signed again more urgently, then he tugged helplessly at the harness around his chest.

Lex stood paralyzed, unsure of what to do. He had never seen Clark so distressed. Clearly something was wrong. He needed to be unleashed.

Or perhaps Clark was trying to deceive him.

Clark stared at him, pleading. "Lex!" he signed again, imbuing the gesture with undeniable desperation.

Lex made his decision. He turned Clark around and untied the harness. The leash fell to the forest floor and Clark stumbled away toward the dark vegetation. With every step, he seemed to grow stronger, until suddenly, he disappeared in a blur.

Lex's first thought was that he had made a terrible mistake. His father would flay him alive. Or worse: he would burn Lex's books.

Lex picked up the leash and set off in the direction in which Clark had gone, though he had no hopes of catching up. It was at that moment, however, that he heard a terrible roaring from the undergrowth a short distance away. Lex followed the sound, vines and branches slapping his face, roots tripping his feet.

Just as suddenly as it had begun, the sound ceased. Lex stopped in his tracks, thinking how foolish he had been to approach a sound of such magnitude and threat. He felt for the gun at his hip and unholstered it. He knew his marksmanship was poor, but it was better than no defense at all. Before he could move forward, Clark appeared from the bushes dragging an enormous lion behind him. Its broken neck rolled loosely on its shoulders.

Clark set the animal down. Lex hurried forward, expecting to find Clark wounded, but he found only the cat's blood smeared across Clark's chest.

All of a sudden, Clark grabbed Lex's wrist and pulled him close, gripping him with painful force.

"Stop! You're hurting me." Lex tried to pull out of Clark's grasp.

Clark let go immediately, perhaps understanding Lex's tone more than the words. He backed away, upset. Lex had never reprimanded him before.

They stood there, separated by six feet of distance. Clark looked as if someone had just hit him. Lex's wrist burned, and was possibly sprained. In that moment of contact, he had experienced a hint of Clark's strength, strength far beyond Clark's capabilities while subdued by the green rocks.

Lex took a moment to catch his breath and decide upon his next move, fearing that Clark might bolt. Lex was powerless, having dropped the leash at some point in his rush to follow Clark.

"I'm not angry," he said, taking a small step toward Clark.

Clark took a corresponding step backward.

"I trust you," Lex signed, even though he knew Clark didn't know the word "trust."

"Clark," Clark signed, then paused, wanting to say more. Finally, he simply signed, "Lex." A small sound emerged from his throat, almost a whimper.

Lex had never heard Clark use his voice, though there was no reason to believe Clark didn't possess the ability to speak. He waited to see if there would be more, but Clark remained silent. "What do you want to say?" Lex asked gently. This time, when he stepped forward, Clark let him approach. Lex touched the blood in wonderment. Clark had sustained no injuries at all, though blood spilled from the lion's throat onto the ground.

Clark tried again to speak, but only the barest sound came forth. Giving up, he signed, "Lex," this time with such sadness that Lex felt compelled to step even closer and put his arms around Clark. Clark returned the gesture ever so gently. Lex rested his head on Clark's shoulder, aware that Clark had been relieved to find him unhurt. A tightness in Lex's lungs made breathing difficult.

After a minute, Lex pulled away, taking Clark's hand to lead him home. He had forgotten about the leash, but there it lay. In the fading light, the green rocks glowed from within the weave of the ropes.

Clark had apparently forgotten also. He stopped short and regarded the leash with uncertainty. Torn, Lex waited for Clark's reaction. He knew that Clark could escape if he wanted to, and there would be no sure way to catch him again. The scene with Lionel played out in his head. After what seemed like an eternity, Clark held his hands out, ready to slip into the harness.

Lex couldn't believe his eyes. Why would Clark willingly submit to the torture when he so easily could have run away? Lex had often thought that given the opportunity to escape Lionel, he wouldn't hesitate to take it. The opportunity had simply never presented itself. Lionel withheld both money and resources from Lex, and he had threatened to make Lex sorry if he ever sought employment elsewhere. Lex had never understood why it mattered to Lionel what Lex did, but there was no changing the fact.

Lex bent to pick up the leash. Instead of putting it on, he took Clark's hand again and they returned to the path. From the pocket of his satchel, Lex removed the wet cloth and wiped away all traces of blood from Clark's skin.

Sensing Clark's reaction to the rocks, Lex held the leash as far away from Clark as he could, trying to minimize his discomfort. When they neared the camp, Lex stopped and put the harness back on, fastening it loosely in back, then he bound Clark's hands with rawhide. He didn't need anyone in camp knowing that he had set Clark free.

It nearly broke Lex's heart to cage Clark again, and to fasten the rocks to his wrists. Clark huddled weakly in a corner of the cage, his pain evident.

Lex surveyed the camp. It was almost dark, and there was no sign of activity nearby.

"I love you," Lex signed, even though he hadn't yet taught Clark the word for love.

The next day, Lex was just preparing to take Clark out for their daily walk when he heard the approach of many voices. He locked the cage, felt for the gun at his hip, and set forth to investigate.

With great surprise, Lex discovered that the voices belonged to Lionel and his men. They were returning after a curtailed expedition. Lex hurried toward his father, who was in the lead. "What happened, Father?"

Lionel had obviously received news of utmost import, and could barely contain his excitement. "I'm on the brink of a revolutionary discovery! I can feel it, son." Lionel's zeal was contagious.

"Why did you return so early if you were about to make your discovery?" Lex asked, following his father to the small cabin they shared.

"The place is two weeks' journey from here. We had neither the supplies, nor the necessary equipment. One of the tribesmen has agreed to lead us to the Holy Grail!"

Lionel tended toward hyperbole, and Lex was forced to deduce what could be meant by the term.

"I see I've stymied you, Lex. But mark my words, we are about to travel somewhere heretofore unknown to science. Can you guess what I've been told? It's a new artifact. When I showed the tribesmen the strange metal disk, they told me they had seen the symbols before. When they described the object upon which these symbols were etched, they said it was larger than they were, and that it was made of the same metal as the disk. I decided then and there that I had to see it for myself."

Lionel gripped Lex's shoulder and regarded him feverishly. "It's only a matter of time, Lex, only a matter of time." Lionel released Lex's shoulder and paced the cabin, opening boxes, searching for items he might need.

"When will you be leaving?" Lex asked. He was torn between his desire to accompany his father on this great mission, and his desire to continue his own investigations closer to home.

"We leave tomorrow at dawn with a full expedition. We'll be gone at least a month. You may come if you like, but decide quickly and notify Solomon so he may adjust our supplies accordingly."

Lex reined in his curiosity and exited the cabin. Recalling Clark's reaction to the disk, he puzzled over the possible connection between the strange artifact and his new friend. Journeying to see a potential piece of the puzzle was tempting but it had two drawbacks. The first was that Clark would be left in the care of one of the servants. The second was that Clark himself was one of the puzzle pieces. Lex simply had not fit him into place yet.

It was through this logic that Lex decided to stay at the camp rather than accompany his father into the far reaches of the Congo. He pushed other factors out of his mind, telling himself that the thought of missing Clark's presence had not influenced his choice at all.

With the matter resolved, Lex went in search of Solomon. Passing by his cabin, he heard raised voices and paused to listen. He didn't have to wait long to discover the matter under discussion, for Lionel burst forth from the interior, mane flying in angry waves behind him.

Catching sight of Lex, Lionel directed his fury upon his son. "What is this?" he shouted, descending.

Lex hesitated, unsure of what to say.

"I go away for a week and my son has turned into a shameful excuse for a young man."

Still in the dark, Lex remained silent, the best response during his father's rages.

"Speak up!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Father."

"No idea. You consort with BEASTS, and you feign ignorance of what you've done? Did you think I wouldn't find out about your little trysts? He's an ANIMAL, Lex. It would be condemnable enough to have relations with another man, but a BEAST is unforgivable. Despicable. You might as well have had relations with a pig."

Denial would do nothing to exonerate Lex, so he remained silent under the siege of his father's invective. His mind raced, trying to discern who might have seen him with Clark, and when. Only three men -- Dr. Adams and two servants -- had remained behind this last week.

"Don't deny it," Lionel continued. "Weston saw you embracing the animal as if he were human." Lionel spat the last word, imbuing it with hatred. "You freed him! You risked my hard work, my toil, my investment, all so you could indulge your perverted desires."

Lionel stopped to take a breath, then said quietly, "I'm disappointed Lex."

"He's still here. He didn't run away." Lex tamped down the impulse to say that Clark was his companion, that he was doing his own research... It would hurt him more to admit those things. It would give his father leverage against him. It would be more dangerous for Clark.

"That was chance, Lex. He will no doubt take advantage of your trust tomorrow. No animal remains caged if it has an opportunity to escape." Lionel regarded Lex carefully, as if making a decision. "You'll come with me on the expedition. If you aren't strong enough to resist the temptations of evil, then I must lead you away from them."

"Who will take care of Cl -- the creature if I'm not here?"

"Anyone is better than you. What you're doing isn't taking care of him."

"Why do you even need him? You could just let him go." Lex was grasping at straws, he knew.

"Until I find out where that creature came from and what he is, I will hold him in captivity. I must insist, however, that you return the key."

Lex stared at his father's outstretched hand. He could feel the weight of the key around his neck.

"Lex!" Lionel's voice had an edge of warning.

In a daze, Lex removed the key and the stone and deposited them in his father's palm. He barely registered Lionel's departure.

Lex didn't know how, but he'd ended up at the waterfall. Tears, hot and fast, spilled down his cheeks. He felt weak and ashamed when only an hour earlier he had felt happy and accomplished. Why did he feel guilty when he had done nothing wrong? He hadn't committed the lewd acts his father had insinuated. Was it wrong to treat someone with kindness? Was it wrong to have held Clark in his arms? Was it wrong to offer comfort? Or to seek it?

Lex couldn't deny that he found Clark beautiful. He resembled the statues of Greek heroes and Gods that Lex had once seen at the Museum of Art in New York. It was also true that Lex enjoyed when Clark touched him, whether it was simply to hold his hand, or to hug him. Lex found the gestures comforting and pleasing.

Lex knew little of sex or women. His father had never bothered to explain. He probably hadn't deemed it necessary given the isolation in which they both lived. During their brief forays into the crowded cities of the continent, Lex had obtained books he should not have, and had read them with a mixture of curiosity and fear. During all of his teen years, he had rarely been near a woman. His limited interactions with them only brought him embarrassment and humiliation, though he had found himself drawn to one or another of them. Thus, at seventeen, he was inexperienced and ignorant in these matters.

He knew, however, that love between men had been accepted in other societies. The Greeks extolled the virtues of homosexual liaisons. Lex had been raised an atheist, and his self-education was steeped in the traditions of ancient cultures, rather than the values of the contemporary world. Therefore, he did not consider homosexuality to be sinful. But what was acceptable for others was not for him. He was already ostracized and mocked, both covertly and openly. Homosexuality in himself, though not sinful, could not be condoned. His father would disown him, and his father's men would have one more reason to consider him strange.

None of the books he had read, however, could explain what Lex felt for Clark. All he knew was that, to him, Clark was human. Clark was beautiful. Clark was his friend and companion. Nothing about their relationship seemed wrong. Yet Lex had allowed his father's words to flood him with guilt and shame. Once those emotions were lodged in Lex's heart, they could not be eradicated.

Halfheartedly, he contemplated breaking Clark out of the cage, but he knew that once his father was set upon something, there was no getting around him. The cage would be locked, and Lex no longer possessed the key. His father would no doubt have posted a guard there as well. Lionel was nothing if not thorough.

Steeling himself, Lex returned to camp. As he had predicted, a guard with a rifle stood watch beside the cage. Lex could tell from Clark's expression that he knew something was wrong. Perhaps it was best that Clark didn't know exactly what.

After Lex's mother had died, Lionel had packed several steamer trunks filled with scientific equipment and supplies, torn Lex away from his nanny, and whisked them both off to Africa. The impetus for the journey had never been completely clear to Lex, though he supposed his father only wanted to travel as far as he could to escape any reminders of his wife.

Being of a scientific bent, Lionel had come to the Congo intent upon a revelation. He was convinced that the darkest reaches of Africa contained treasures white men could barely imagine. Lionel's task was to reveal those mysteries and profit from them. What he sought was more glorious than gold or ore.

Lionel and Lex, along with several other men, had ventured deep into the heart of the Congo. Lex remembered little of those early days beyond the exhaustion of keeping up with the men, and the isolation of their new life. At eight years old, his contact with the civilized world had come to an end.

It was on this first of many fruitless expeditions that the meteor shower ("the rain of fire" as the natives called it) had occurred. Lex had been foolishly wandering on his own as the men set up a temporary camp. All Lex recalled was a terrible roar growing increasingly louder, then a flare of heat and brightness.

He woke five days later, bald and in pain, ensconced in mosquito netting, under the careful observation of Dr. Green. There had been little hope of his recovery, and his survival was nothing short of miraculous. His father's scientists quickly began studying both the visible and invisible effects of the meteor shower upon his body.

Dr. Green discovered Lex's newfound immunity when everyone else in the camp contracted a fever. It was soon apparent that Lex possessed accelerated healing powers as well. Lionel became obsessed with the meteors, and began testing them, but to no avail. It seemed that their ability to affect humans had been only temporary.

Lionel was convinced, however, that the meteor rocks would be his discovery, if only he could determine their elemental composition. After several months of frustrating work (along with attempts to sell the rocks as valuable gems), his research tapered off, and he began to take an interest in other things. The scientific party moved on to other regions of the Congo.

Lionel and his men had not returned to the area since the time of Lex's accident.

Lex told himself not to look back, but he couldn't resist. He turned just once, staring over his shoulder at Clark, who seemed to understand that Lex was not simply going away for the day. He looked terribly forlorn, and Lex couldn't bear the sight for another moment. He faced forward and marched along behind his father, resigned, at least temporarily, to his fate.

The new artifact had been reported in the vicinity of the meteor shower. The party would be journeying upriver for a time before branching off from the Congo's course to pursue a northerly route. It would take them two weeks of intense hiking to reach their destination. They were well-equipped this time, carrying enough supplies to be prepared for any emergency. Lionel had been told that the artifact was large and unwieldy, which explained why no one had taken it from the site.

There was a certain level of fear among the tribesmen, as well. They described the rain of fire from the sky, for many of them remembered it. A sense of mystery cloaked the area and superstition was rampant. There were rumors of strange animals and invincible lions. It was only through much bribery and cajoling that Lionel was able to convince two of the tribesmen to guide him to the site.

For twelve days, the party trudged through the jungle. They covered fifteen or more miles per day despite their burdens. The forest was too dense for pack animals of any sort. Where they were going, there were no trails.

Each of them carried a heavy pack filled with the barest personal necessities, camp gear, research equipment, and emergency rations. The rest was improvised when they pitched camp for the night.

Lionel ignored Lex for the most part, bent on his destination. He seemed feverish, almost delirious with excitement. Lex wondered if they were really nearing the Holy Grail, or if instead they were headed deep into Hell.

As they travelled on, the vegetation grew more dense, the forest less hospitable. The nights were laden with foreign sounds, threatening in their strangeness. Lex wondered why his father had ventured to this area so long ago. Why had he come this far? Why had it taken him so long to return?

On the eve of the thirteenth day, they came to a small village. Lionel immediately sought the leader of the group and engaged his services as a guide. The man, whose name was Mubuku, was at first reluctant, but Lionel's offer of beads and cooking utensils soon convinced him.

The party set out the next morning. Mubuku claimed that the artifact was only a short journey away. Indeed, only one and a half days later, they came upon a deep trench carved into the earth. The forces of time and nature had softened its edges, and had allowed plants to grow in the depression. Yet the fact remained: it was not a natural feature of the landscape.

Scattered here and there, Lex spotted the green rocks that were like poison to Clark. At the end of the ragged trench, almost hidden from view, was what appeared to be a smooth boulder. Lex knew immediately that this was what his father had come to find. Lionel dropped his pack and rushed forward, almost stumbling in his haste.

"What is it?" he asked no one in particular. Madly, he tore at the vines and foliage obscuring the object. "Solomon! Help me!"

Solomon lowered himself into the trench and began clearing the vegetation away with his machete.

"It's metal. The same metal!" Lionel tugged on the object ineffectually. Even when he levered all of his weight upon it, it would not budge.

Lex watched, curious but silent, from outside the trench. Solomon found a foothold and pushed with all his might. Slowly, with a grating sound, the object moved forward into the light. Lionel ran his hand over the smooth surface, caressing the object. "It's exactly the same," he said, and reached into his pocket.

The metal disk glinted in the fragmented sunlight. The entire expedition party watched, entranced, as Lionel fitted the disk into a depression in the object. Lex's mind reeled. How could this man-made object have ended up so deep in the wilderness where only the most primitive tribes lived? The artifact looked like nothing Lex had ever seen. He couldn't even begin to imagine what it might be for.

All of a sudden, a huge flash lit the dim forest. Lex instinctively covered his eyes. The light was blinding in its intensity.

Lionel screamed in pain. Lex removed his hands from his eyes. A thick beam of energy seemed to be emanating from the ship and connecting with Lionel's body. Lionel writhed and twisted, miraculously lifted from the ground. Lex lunged forward, intent upon pulling his father away from the beam, but he found himself restrained by two of his father's men.

"Father!" Lex shouted, unable to do more.

After what seemed like forever, the screaming stopped and the light faded. Lionel lay on the ground, still and pale.

Lex hurried forward and knelt in the debris of the trench. "Father! Someone make a litter! He's still alive!"

Lex was aware of the natives babbling hysterically. They no doubt thought they were being punished for bringing the white men to this part of the jungle, a part that had wished to remain secret.

In spite of Lionel's cruelty, Lex could not wish him to die. He looked upon his father's face and saw the only person who had known him all of his life. He took Lionel's hand and said, "It's all right, Father. Everything is going to be all right."

Lionel's eyes, now almost completely white, were open wide, but he remained catatonic. The expression on his face conveyed sheer terror. Gently, Lex closed Lionel's eyes.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion. Lex was aware of the bustle around him as Lionel's servants assembled the litter from a canvas tarp and two poles. Lex helped them lift his father onto the cloth while Dr. Green supervised. Then two men took up the burden and proceeded in the direction from which they had come.

"We need a travois for the artifact," Lex said.

"You expect us to carry that thing back to base?" Dr. Green asked incredulously.

"My father didn't come all this way to leave it here. Solomon! Stay behind and load the artifact for transportation. We'll go ahead and set up camp so we can tend to my father's needs."

Lex bent down and picked up the metal disk. It had fallen from the slot on the larger artifact. Lex pocketed it before setting out after the other men.

Their native guides had run pell-mell away from the site as soon as they realized they still possessed the ability to do so. Lex could hear them shouting in the distance. He didn't blame them. They had all witnessed a spectacle of frightening power and mystery.

The men quickly found a suitable location to set up camp. A tent was erected and Dr. Green began to examine Lionel for injuries as Lex looked on.

"Incredible," Dr. Green muttered to himself as he lifted Lionel's eyelid and peered at the now pale pupil.

"Is he going to wake up?" Lex asked, thinking of his own five-day coma all those years ago.

"How should I know?" Dr. Green snapped. He checked Lionel's pulse and respiration and then began to test each bone for breakage.

As Lex watched Dr. Green, he began to piece together the bits of information in his head. The artifact was clearly linked to the metal disk. The artifact had been found in an area rife with green rocks, which could not be elementally identified. Dr. Green had said the metal of the disk was not a known element either. Perhaps the disk and the rocks were not terrestrial at all. Though Lex had no proof, he felt certain that the artifact had fallen from the sky. But where had it launched?

Dr. Green began to draw Lionel's blood.

Lex recalled Dr. Green telling Lionel that Clark's blood sample was unusual, unlike either human or animal blood.

Lex pondered Clark's love of the sun, his strange biology, his reaction to the disk, and his ability to speak through gestures, but not through words. For most people, communicating through sign language was cumbersome. Clark's brain seemed to be arranged differently.

A piece of the puzzle was missing. Lex's thoughts hit a wall and, try as he might, he could not see beyond it. His thoughts led him only to impossibility.

He did, however, know one thing: his father still wore the key to the cage around his neck. When Dr. Green hurried out to find his scope, Lex took the opportunity to pilfer the key, fearing at every moment that his father would wake.

Once the key was safe in his hands, he stowed it in his pocket with the disk.

The next day brought no improvement in Lionel's condition, nor did it bring decline. Lex argued with Dr. Green about whether it was best to remain where they were or to proceed toward their base camp where there were more supplies and medicine.

Under normal circumstances, Lex would have sided with Dr. Green, but as much as he wanted to keep his father comfortable, Lex worried about Clark. He trusted no one to care for Clark as he had. It tore at him to imagine the conditions under which Clark must be living.

In the end, the decision was made for them, as the local tribesmen threatened attack, believing the gods had cursed Lionel.

The party set out for home base, their burden much heavier than it had been on the way out. Everyone carried extra supplies so that two of the men were free to carry Lionel on the stretcher. Two other men were assigned to manage the artifact, which was not only unwieldy, but heavy.

Each night when they pitched camp, Lex took some time to study the artifact before dark. Sometimes, even after dark, he sat with a lantern and his notebook trying to decipher the signs on the smooth, curved surfaces.

While a certain part of Lex mourned his father's sickness, another part was relieved. Lionel had never made Lex's life easy. Lex felt something akin to hatred for his father. Yet, oddly, he was also overcome with tenderness. However terrible the man was, he had raised Lex. He had taught Lex history and politics. He had instilled in Lex a love of learning and science. Furthermore, he was the only family Lex had.

These conflicting emotions besieged Lex as he sat in the darkness, intent upon a mystery so great that even its beginnings were beyond his comprehension.

Again, Lex's mind ventured out into the great unknown. The vicious trench in the ground was evidence that the artifact had hit the earth with a tremendous amount of impact, indicating that it had fallen from a great height. There was no alternative but to believe it had come from beyond the earth's atmosphere.

Oddly, the artifact seemed structurally intact. Lex tried without success to pry it open, guessing that it was hollow because he could hear the sound of empty space when he thumped its surface with his hand. There were no visible handles or levers and, as Lionel had proven, placing the disk in the slot did not open anything.

Amazingly, no one suspected that Lex might have his own agenda regarding the artifact. They assumed he was playing the good son, perhaps feeling guilty for his earlier "indiscretions." Though Lionel had said nothing, Lex assumed that Weston had. Since the day they had set out on the expedition, all of Lionel's crew had regarded Lex with a knowing expression. He was being judged for a crime he hadn't committed. Being wrongly accused gave Lex the justification to put aside his scruples regarding the key and the metal disk.

As they finally neared camp on the seventeenth day, Lionel remained unconscious, alive only because Dr. Green had persisted in forcing water down Lionel's throat. Lack of food had brought about a remarkable deterioration, and Lionel looked like a completely different man.

They were less than a quarter mile from camp when Lex noticed it: a slight movement of Lionel's eyelids, as if in deep sleep. Lex kept watch, but did not mention his observation to the men who carried his father down the trail.

As they approached the clearing, Lex forgot about his father and concentrated on remaining calm. For the last five weeks, he had thought of Clark and little else. At last, unable to contain himself, he hurried toward the unguarded cage.

Clark had indeed fared ill without Lex. Thin and covered with sores, he was a shadow of the person Lex had taught to write that day at the pool. At least the cage had been kept clean, and a dish of clear water sat beside Clark's head. Lex fell to his knees outside the bars.

"Clark," he whispered, not wanting to be heard.

There was no response.

Suddenly, Dr. Green and Solomon began shouting. Lex turned to see what the commotion was.

It was a startling sight: an emaciated, unkempt Lionel scrambling to sit up on the stretcher. His mouth and eyes were wide open as if he had seen something truly terrifying. A strange noise emanated from his throat as he stared blankly at the cage. Possessed by an unseen force, Lionel raised his hand and pointed at Clark. "I know what you are," he said.

Lex froze, unable to process what he was seeing. His father bore no resemblance to the man with whom Lex had spent his life. Instead, Lionel had the appearance of an apparition. His body was stiff and emotionless, eerie in its strained movements.

"You're my Holy Grail."

Beside Lex, Clark shifted, banging his head against the bars of the cage, his eyes wide with fear.

"I saw inside your mind!" Lionel sounded triumphant. Suddenly, he turned to Dr. Green. "Pack up the camp! We have what we came for. We'll leave in a few days!"

Dr. Green hesitated, as unsettled as everyone else. "Sir?"

"Do as I say!" Lionel ordered. "I know what this creature is! That is how he came to earth." He pointed toward the artifact.

"Sir, that can't be. It's impossible." Dr. Green shook his head.

Lex knew that it was possible. It had to be. Lionel's proclamation only confirmed Lex's suspicions.

Lionel attempted to get up off of the stretcher, but his legs weren't strong enough to hold him. He fell to the ground, one hand outstretched. Whether because of shock or fear, no one attempted to help him up.

The fall seemed to jolt Lionel back to normalcy. His eyes cleared slightly as he crawled toward the cage. "I know what you think about my son," he said. "If you make me famous, I'll give him to you."

Clark trembled as if he understood every word Lionel said.

"Someone help me up," Lionel barked. Solomon rushed forward and pulled Lionel to his feet. Clark exhaled, as if in pain, and shut his eyes.

"We leave in two days." Lionel surveyed his men. They all muttered their Yessirs, and headed off to fulfill his orders. A guard materialized with a rifle and stood watch at the door to the cage.

Lex closed his eyes in regret. If only he had hurried ahead of the party. If only he had come an hour earlier, he might have saved Clark. But now it was too late. His father had developed some knowledge of Clark's origins, maybe even the ability to read his mind...

Lex spent the rest of the afternoon packing his things so as not to arouse suspicion, but all the while, his mind was at work thinking of ways he might set Clark free. The cage was once again guarded, and Lex knew that Lionel was watching him like a hawk.

Getting the cage open was only the first of Lex's problems.

Lex recalled how weak Clark had been when he had first ventured out of the cage. After five weeks of continuous confinement, Clark's muscles would have atrophied significantly. Even if Lex could free him from the rocks, he would not be able-bodied.

One valuable lesson Lex had learned from Lionel was that determination accomplished more than God-given ability. Lex had decided that he would set Clark free, and he would accomplish that goal if it killed him.

Later that night, Lex lay awake in his cot, listening to his father breathe on the other side of the makeshift cabin. Lionel was finally asleep.

Lex crept to the door but found it guarded, as he had suspected it would be.

The cabin had been built upon their arrival to this area. Its sole purpose was to provide shelter from rain and protection from beasts. It was not insect-proof or windproof, nor was it meant to stand the test of time. The years had weathered and rotted the wood.

Toward the back of the cabin, near Lionel's bed, was a loose board. Lex maneuvered the wood as best he could in the dark, holding his breath, trying not to make a sound. Soon the rough-hewn plank gave way and Lex was able to step into the night.

Armed with only his pen knife, he crept toward Clark's cage, which was also guarded. Lex took the long way around, evading the sentry. It wasn't difficult as the man was nearly asleep.

Fortunately, Clark remained in the same position in which Lex had found him earlier. Lying on his side, back pressed against the rear of the cage, his arms were easily accessible.

Not wanting to startle Clark, Lex touched him gently, ghosting his fingers across Clark's back. Clark shivered in response, and Lex felt sure Clark recognized him. Bringing Clark's hand toward him, Lex used his knife to dig the stones out of the woven bracelet. It was difficult work in the dark, but Lex managed to get most, if not all, of them. He set Clark's arm down and found that Clark was weakly lifting the other arm. Lex took hold of his hand and got to work on the second cuff. After he had completed his task, he rubbed Clark's palm, hoping to convey all the things he felt. Then he disappeared into the darkness.

The next day, Lionel tottered weakly about, dictating what was to be done. All of a sudden, he called out. "Lex!"

Lex, reading in the cabin, knew exactly what that tone meant. The past few months, however, had increased his compulsion to lie. He prepared himself mentally, then exited the cabin. "Yes, Father. How are you feeling?"

"Where's my key?" Lionel demanded, leaning heavily on a cane Solomon had fashioned for him.

"Your key?" Always try ignorance first.

"You know very well what I mean. The key to the cage."

"I gave it to you before we left on the expedition," Lex replied truthfully.

"And you took it from me, I'm sure. Tell me where it is!"

"I don't know, Father. Perhaps it's lost. We had a rough journey back with all that baggage."

Lionel stared at Lex, trying to discern if he was lying. "Solomon!" Lionel shouted.

Solomon walked briskly toward them.

"Search my son's things. Search everything. I want to know where that key is!"

"Sir?" Solomon looked puzzled.

"The key! The key! Find it! And while you're at it, look for the metal disk. I haven't seen it anywhere."

"I think we may have left it, Sir. We were in such a hurry after your accident."

"You left it? How did I end up with such ineffectual morons in my employ?" Lionel hobbled toward Dr. Green's cabin. "Just find it!"

Lex could not have asked for a better accomplice. Solomon had freed Lex from suspicion, at least where the disk was concerned. Both the disk and the key were hidden where no one would find them.

As dusk neared, Lex set forth from the camp, claiming he was going to bathe at the falls. He was surprised but suspicious when no one prevented him. Convinced that he could not have escaped so easily, Lex listened for any signs that he was being followed.

Sure enough, he heard sounds that to his trained ear meant someone was nearby. Lex feigned obliviousness, and jumped naked into the pool at the base of the waterfall where he and Clark had been accustomed to bathing.

Lex congratulated himself for his foresight. While the rest of the party had been otherwise occupied on the journey home, Lex had stolen away to hide the key and the metal disk. Aware that he was being watched, Lex dove underwater and removed the objects from beneath a rock. Then he reached for his clothes, employing a bit of sleight of hand to sequester his treasures in his pants pocket as he dressed.

After a day of flurried packing, the party was nearly ready to depart for the coast. The plan was to leave at dawn.

All day, Lex had observed Clark, attempting to ascertain if his plan had worked. Clark continued to look half past dead, but his eyes followed Lex, alert and watchful, as he passed. Lex knew then that Clark was recovering, even if only slightly.

That night, Lionel was feverish and delirious, muttering about keys and extra-terrestrial life. Dr. Green tended to him, administering aspirin and some other drug unknown to Lex. Planning ahead, Lex offered to let Dr. Green have his cot for the night. Dr. Green acquiesced, and Lex went to sleep in the other cabin.

Once again, he lay awake, tense and nervous, terrified that his plan wouldn't work. This was his only chance, because once they set out on their journey, his father's paranoia would increase.

When all was still, Lex got up from his cot and snuck out of the cabin. His father's mindless guard stood outside the other cabin, apparently unaware that he was supposed to be watching Lex, not Lionel.

The guard outside the cage was an obstacle Lex had not yet figured out how to remove. Barring gunfire, there appeared to be no solution. Lex huddled in the protection of the trees, unsure of what to do. Even if he were prone to violence, the gunfire would wake the camp, leaving no time for Clark to escape.

Finally, near dawn, when the guard had not moved or fallen asleep, Lex became desperate. He ran to the other side of the camp and lit several dry branches on fire. When he was sure they had caught, he took a roundabout route back to Clark's cage.

The plan worked. The two guards on duty noticed the flames and went to investigate. Lex slid out from behind the trees and opened the door to the cage. As if they had planned the whole thing, Clark got to his feet, albeit unsteadily, and came out into the open. Lex grabbed his hand and pressed the metal disk into it. Then he signed frantically, "Go! Run!"

Clark stared at him uncomprehendingly. Lex regretted not teaching Clark verbs first. He gestured again and pointed away from the camp.

Clark shook his head and took Lex's hand, leading him away.

"No!" Lex whispered urgently. "You have to go alone. No Lex."

Lex pulled out of Clark's grasp. He could hear yelling on the other side of camp. He glanced over. In the bright light from the fire, he could see that one of the guards had spotted him and was pointing.

"No Lex," Lex said, and pushed Clark toward the trail into the forest. He knew Clark could outrun all of his father's men. It was the reason they had had so much difficulty catching him.

"Lex," Clark signed. The gesture was laden with so much feeling that Lex couldn't fail to decipher its meaning.

"No. You have to leave now before it's too late!" Lex realized he was crying.

One of the guards approached, brandishing a torch.

"What is this?" Lionel's voice rang out in the dissipating darkness. He carried a gun, apparently much recovered from his previous weakness. He levelled the weapon at Clark.

Clark reacted to Lionel's presence. With determination, he lifted his gaze and directed it at Lionel. Suddenly, strange beams emanated from Clark's eyes. Almost simultaneously, Lionel's feet caught fire. Lionel screamed and discharged the gun. The shot blasted through the humid air and Lex's world went black.

As consciousness returned, Lex felt strange and light, as if he were lying on a cloud. I'm dead, he thought.

The sensation didn't last long. He became aware of intense pain in his shoulder. He moaned, wishing for an end to his misery. Sensing movement nearby, he opened his eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the light. The first thing he saw was leaves rustling in the wind. He turned his head to the side and saw more leaves. He felt strangely disoriented.

A warm hand stroked his cheek and he turned toward it, expecting to see Dr. Green, or perhaps not, given the tenderness of the touch.

Clark was the last person Lex was prepared to find. Yet there he was, alive and well, more beautiful than he had ever been before. He fairly glowed with health and strength.

"Where am I?" Lex asked, wondering at the impossibility of it all.

Clark smiled. "Lex," he signed.

Clark picked up a hollow seed pod and brought it to Lex's lips. The water in the pod flowed into his mouth and he swallowed gratefully.

Lex tried to sit up, but a gentle hand stopped him. Sharp pain pierced his right shoulder again. He'd been shot. He remembered now. He glanced down, able to see out of the corner of his eye that his shoulder was covered with a thick coating of what appeared to be mud and leaves, a poultice of some sort.

Looking beyond his shoulder, he noticed that he was lying on a bed of soft, green ferns. It was all quite puzzling. The wind blew gently and Lex felt himself sway with its movement. The realization hit him: he was in the treetops. Lex tried to stem the nausea that came from a lifelong fear of heights. Lex could see the sky through the branches. They were in the canopy, high above the forest floor. He decided he must by lying on some sort of platform, for his bed felt solid beneath him.

"How did we get here? Where is my father? And Dr. Green?" Though Lex hadn't taught Clark these words, he knew that Clark recognized them. When Clark's expression grew dark, Lex was filled with foreboding. "Something terrible has happened, hasn't it?"

"Gun," Clark signed. Lex's pistol had always puzzled him, and the word had done nothing to elucidate its purpose.

"He shot me, I'm well aware."

Clark touched Lex's shoulder, his fingers barely present. Lex recognized the look on Clark's face. It was the expression he got when he wanted to know the word for something.

Lex thought for a moment before saying, "Hurt." He did his best to sign the word with his left hand. "Is my father hurt?"

Clark thought for a moment before nodding. His brows knitted as he signed "Father hurt." The gestures were filled with finality and sadness, communicating everything without words.

Lex knew then that his father was most likely dead. Tears rose unbidden to his eyes. He wondered how it had happened, and whether his father had suffered. A desire to see him overwhelmed Lex. He recalled that once, when he was a small child, he had run into his father's study because he had hurt himself. His father had been sitting on the sofa reading. Lex remembered exactly how Lionel had looked in that moment, an expression of calm concentration on his face. The calm was shattered when Lionel had become aware of Lex.

Lex had always desired Lionel's affection, but his very presence precluded it. Now, faced with the possibility that he might never see his father again, all Lex wanted was to recapture that moment when he had been only an observer, and not an interference.

Lex felt Clark lying down beside him, holding him. His breaths came shallow and fast as he cried. He closed his eyes and turned away, ashamed. Clark's embrace was comforting and, in spite of himself, Lex shifted so that he was closer to the warmth of the naked body beside him.

Before too long, he fell back asleep.

When Lex woke again, the light had faded into evening. He was alone on the canopy platform, but he knew that Clark would return. Stiffly, Lex rolled onto his left side and used his good arm to push himself to a sitting position. An uncomfortable pressure pressed at his bladder, and his first thought was to climb down from the tree. When he peered over the edge and saw how far it was to the ground, he quickly changed his mind.

It occurred to Lex that he was naked. He wondered at that fact, since he had been wearing clothes when he'd been shot. A rustling noise caught his attention and he tensed, but was relieved to find that it was only Clark. In his arms, Clark carried several fruits, which Lex eyed hungrily.

There were other more pressing matters to attend to first. Lex moved to the edge of the platform and indicated that he wanted to climb down. Clark hesitated, but then gathered Lex in his arms. It was awkward at first. Lex wasn't accustomed to being carried, and he didn't know where to place his hands. Finally, he wrapped his left arm around Clark's neck and hung on for dear life while Clark supported the lower part of his body with one arm, using the other to guide them through the branches. Amazingly, they landed without difficulty. Lex felt the tumbling in his stomach subside when his feet met the earth.

Lex headed away from Clark so that he might relieve himself in private. He was surprised, however, to find that Clark was following him. "Wait here," Lex said. "I'll be right back." He gestured, trying to communicate the thought.

Clark stood still and watched him. It was almost completely dark down below the canopy. Lex quickly ducked behind a tree and accomplished his task. He knew he shouldn't be embarrassed, but he was. He felt shy and distinctly aware of his nakedness, even though he had stood naked in front of Clark before. When Lex emerged, Clark took his hand as if he had been worried about losing him. Without knowing why, Lex leaned into Clark and the muscular arms encircled him.

"Lex." The word came out slightly distorted, as if Clark had a speech impediment.

Lex pulled away in surprise.

"Lex," Clark tried again, this time with more success.

"You've never spoken before," Lex said in wonder. He remembered the last time Clark had tried to use his voice, that afternoon he had killed the lion. Lex connected the events in his mind and realized that the green stones must have affected Clark's ability to speak. Yet he couldn't help feeling it was more than that. Perhaps Clark had never spoken, not even before being captured. With no one to talk to, there would have been no need for speech.

"Lex," Clark said confidently.

A peculiar kind of happiness threaded through Lex. Here he was in the middle of the jungle, injured, possibly orphaned, and unsure of what the next day would bring... yet he felt safe and cared for.

Clark bent slightly and picked Lex up. They ascended at great speed until they alit once again on the small platform.

"Did you build this?" Lex asked, though it was a foolish question. No one else could have built it. He tried to imagine the kind of effort it had taken to construct this small haven in the trees. It was beyond what any human could do.

Clark sat on the ferns beside Lex and held a piece of fruit out to him. They ate in silence, in the darkness, until everything was gone.

Even the minor exertions of Lex's day had tired him, and he lay down, settling into the soft green bed. Clark tucked in beside him again, though Lex suspected he wasn't tired at all.

For the first time since meeting Clark, Lex fully contemplated the strangeness of his companion. He marvelled at Clark's strength and speed, his ingenuity and his intelligence, and most of all, his surprising gentleness. Though Lex could not eliminate the dull ache that came from a longing for his old life, he looked forward to the next day when he could teach Clark more words. He wanted nothing more than the ability to communicate completely with Clark. Whether he was human or not, to Lex, he was simply a friend.

The next day, when they had descended from the tree, Lex announced that he wanted to return to the camp. Clark stared at him uncomprehendingly, then slowly shook his head, a worried expression crossing his features.

"I don't even know how long I lay there asleep. I need to see if my father's men are still there." Lex knew he wouldn't make it back to the camp without Clark. He had no sense of their location, and his body was weak from injury.

Clark appeared to be thinking over his options. He had an uncanny ability to comprehend what Lex was saying, even with his limited vocabulary. Lex found himself constantly amazed.

Reaching a decision, Clark took Lex's hand and set out on a course that only he knew.

Lex hadn't much hope of finding his father's men. If Lionel really had died, they would have departed immediately. These dark thoughts filled Lex's head as he followed Clark's lead through the jungle. The day was hot, and Lex wasn't accustomed to his decreased stamina. It wasn't long, however, before the surroundings looked familiar.

From the moment Lex caught sight of the camp, he knew he was too late. The cabin doors stood open, as did the door to the cage. Lex walked slowly, in a daze. He hadn't quite believed it could be true. He hadn't wanted to believe. Lex had spent seven years of his life in this place. Memories both pleasant and unpleasant besieged him.

There were only ghosts now.

As if he understood, Clark simply sat at the edge of the encampment and waited for Lex to finish his examination.

Lex explored each cabin in turn, holding in his hands any remnants that had been left behind. When Lex entered the cabin he had shared with his father, he was surprised to find many things intact. Lex had packed his belongings according to his father's instructions, and they remained neatly ensconced in his luggage.

Some of Lionel's things were gone -- his logbooks and supplies -- likely taken for research purposes. Personal effects, such as clothing and toiletries, were either packed away or laid out for imminent use. Lex picked up his father's hairbrush. Its wooden handle was worn smooth, but the boar bristles were wiry and stiff. Lex ran his thumb over them, remembering. The brush was useless now, he supposed. He moved on, then, to his trunk. All his books were there, and he lovingly picked up Rilke.

It was then that he saw the letter propped against the wall at the edge of the table, his name loosely scrawled on the paper. Lex unfolded the single sheet, which had been torn from someone's logbook.

"Dear Lex," it read. "We are setting out today for the Brazzaville. If you follow the river, you might catch up with us. We did not choose to remain long after you left. Your father fell ill and died within hours of some ailment we could not diagnose. We are setting out immediately in hopes that we might purchase embalming supplies. I don't expect we will be able to do so before advanced decay. Your father may have to be buried here in the Congo.

"If you are reading this, I know that you survived kidnap by the beast, and are well enough to attempt to return to America. I'm sure you are aware of your father's will. If you return, you will be able to claim your inheritance, as I have signed a death certificate with Dr. Adams as witness. I will file it at the New York Hall of Records upon my return.

"Your faithful servant,
Stafford Green."

Lex folded the letter carefully and inserted it among the pages of his book of poetry. His cot lay assembled just as he had left it. He lay down on it, clutching the book to his chest. He had never felt more alone in his life.

Lex wasn't sure how long he lay there, but a soft sound drew his attention to the doorway where he found Clark hovering.

"Clark," Lex whispered. He felt weak, incapable of further exposition. He knew that he should be hastening toward the river so he might follow its course and locate his father's men. He knew there wasn't a moment to lose, but even with this knowledge, Lex couldn't find it within himself to move. He wanted only to hide in the forest, without worries, without obligations or fears. The cabin felt peaceful and quiet. His father's spirit lingered. Lex was loath to let it go, despite the many painful associations that accompanied it.

Clark knelt beside the cot and examined Lex's shoulder. Lex closed his eyes and focussed on the sensation of Clark's gentle movements. Lex had never been cared for like this, and the experience lulled him, made him want to fall asleep, never to move again.

Lex opened his eyes, startled, when he felt Clark touching his face, and the scar on his lip. Lex licked it self-consciously, remembering the day his father had hit him. It seemed so long ago, now, and could be forgiven. It was simply one of many scars Lex had to bear.

Lex reached up with his good hand and touched Clark's hair. Clark had come from somewhere far, far away. Lex couldn't even fathom it. He had arrived on that day that had changed Lex's life irrevocably. Lex wondered if Clark had come with anyone and, if so, what had happened to them.

Clark leaned into Lex's hand, closing his eyes. Lex remembered the first time he had done this, when he had cut Clark's hair. That, too, was long ago. Everything, even that morning, was distant and dim. Only the moments since reading the letter were clear.

"What am I going to do?" Lex asked.

Clark's eyes opened, and he regarded Lex seriously, as if he understood the question. He leaned in and slid an arm under Lex, helping him sit up.

Once upright, a new resolve took hold of Lex. "I have to try to find them," he said. He set his feet on the dirt floor of the cabin and assessed his surroundings.

Lex felt a cool object being pressed into his palm. He glanced down to find that it was the metal disk. Clark must have let it fall when Lex had been shot. The reality of his situation hit him, then. He could not journey along the Congo alone. Simply put: he would die. He needed Clark, not only needed him, but wanted him along. The thought of leaving Clark behind did not sit well with him. Neither did the possibility of Clark being captured by Dr. Green again. Lex might not have a choice for, in the end, it came down to whether Clark would even leave his home.

What if the letter was a trap? What if his father wasn't really dead, but simply seeking a way to regain his scientific prize? Paralyzed by indecision, Lex continued to stare at the disk as if it held the answers he was seeking. Clark leaned in and pressed his cheek to Lex's. Lex knew in that instant that Clark would follow him, no matter what he decided to do. He pulled back.

"Clark, we have to go. It's not safe to be here." It isn't safe anywhere, he added mentally. On impulse, he cupped Clark's jaw and kissed his cheek. Then he stood up and planned what he would do next.

Lex knew his shoulder was in no condition to bear weight; he needed to carry as little as possible. After he had dressed, he packed an extra set of clothes, a canteen, Rilke, his journal, his knife, and a compass that had been a gift from Clark's namesake. Lastly, he stowed the metal disk in an inside pocket. Almost as an afterthought, Lex searched his trunk for anything that might fit Clark should the necessity arise.

No food remained in the cabin, but Lex knew how to fend for himself. The absence of weapons, however, was a disappointment. He wished then that he were more knowledgeable of practical matters, such as making bows and arrows. A cursory search of the site revealed that the artifact had been taken by his father's men, for it was nowhere to be found.

Clark watched these preparations with curiosity. Lex spared the time to teach him the words of all they came across. He wanted to be able to hold a conversation with his companion. Given Clark's capacity to retain information, he knew that it wouldn't be long.

When all this was done, Lex took Clark's hand and set out toward the river. He knew he must err on the side of caution, and planned to follow a parallel course rather than the path he knew Dr. Green would have taken.

Clark didn't resist at first, but as it became clear where they were headed, he grew fretful, glancing about as if he suspected they were being followed. In deference to Clark's instincts, Lex changed direction, heading west, following the curve of the mountains, instead of heading closer to the river. He knew the party's destination and it didn't matter how he got there, as long as he reached the same point.

Darkness began to fall, and Clark stopped suddenly, refusing to go on. "Rest," he signed, having been taught his first verbs that day.

Lex's shoulder ached, but it was healing quickly, as his injuries tended to do since his accident. Clark had long ago taken on the burden of the satchel, though he now handed it to Lex.

"Wait," he signed. A blur and a gust of wind was the only indication of his departure. A minute later, he reappeared with some fruit and seed pods.

"How do you do that?" Lex asked. He wondered if Clark could carry him, thus enabling them to reach Brazzaville more quickly. Lex had no idea of how many days had passed since he had been shot. It might already be too late.

Clark gave Lex the look that meant he didn't know the words to express himself.

"You're quick," Lex said, gesturing.

Clark zipped away and came back. "Quick," he signed.

Lex nodded, pleased. He hadn't realized how tired he was. The constant movement and vocabulary lessons had helped him to put aside the emotions that had frozen him earlier. He didn't want to dwell on them. It was useless. He didn't even know what to feel, didn't know if his father was dead or alive, didn't know if he should trust or distrust Dr. Green's letter. It was best to focus on matters at hand.

"Did you live in the trees before? Did you have a nest?" Lex asked, realizing as he did that tenses were not something Clark would understand.

Clark tilted his head up toward the canopy, then he gazed at Lex. Lex sat down on a large root and put the satchel down at his feet. Clark perched beside him and broke the fruit open. Lex expected Clark to hand him one of the pieces, but instead, Clark broke a smaller piece off and held it to Lex's lips. Lex had observed this behavior among several primate species during the course of his travels. It gave him cause to wonder again about Clark's life before he had been captured. Obliging, Lex opened his mouth and Clark slipped the piece of fruit inside.

"Thank you," Lex said, signing also.

Lex took some of the fruit from Clark and likewise broke a piece off. Clark looked surprised to have the gesture returned, but he opened his mouth, staring at Lex the entire time he chewed the morsel.

Clark hesitated then. "Thank you," he signed, looking at Lex for confirmation.

"You're welcome."

Again, Clark broke a piece of fruit off and put it inside Lex's mouth. Only this time, he let his finger slide along Lex's lip. No one had ever touched Lex that way. He shivered at the unfamiliar sensation, overcome with the desire to kiss Clark, if only to see what it felt like. Clark didn't know what kissing was; Lex doubted it would upset him.

Lex had never kissed anyone before, not since he was a small child. Nor had he ever seen anyone kissing, not even his parents. The idea was almost foreign to him, and he had always been curious. Clark had a beautiful mouth. Lex imagined it would feel soft under his.

When next he broke off a piece of fruit and placed it between Clark's lips, he let his hand linger as Clark chewed and swallowed. Clark never took his eyes off of Lex, and didn't seem startled when Lex leaned forward.

The first touch was awkward and momentary, not exactly what Lex had imagined. Perhaps he was doing something wrong. He remembered reading descriptions of tongues and lips dancing in passionate frenzy, but he dared not try again. His father's accusations echoed in his mind and shame burned through him at the thought of what he had attempted.

Clark, however, seemed unperturbed. He simply broke off another piece of fruit and fed it to Lex. Lex began chewing, but was interrupted by Clark hovering close and brushing his lips against Lex's.

He thinks it's a game, Lex thought, feeling slightly less guilty. Lex fed Clark another piece of fruit, waiting for him to swallow before trying again. Clark met him halfway and their lips lingered for a moment before parting.

It felt nice. It wasn't what Lex would call passionate, but he had experienced nothing in his life that could fit the descriptions he had read. He supposed that fictional embellishment was responsible for his misconception.

They finished the fruit, continuing their game. Lex idly wondered if Clark was a vegetarian. Most ape species in this region subsisted on plants, though Lex had read of carnivorous chimpanzees on the savannah.

Toward the end of the second fruit, Lex grew bolder. When he kissed Clark, he darted his tongue out to lick at the juices on Clark's lips. When he pulled away, Clark was smiling at him.

"Kiss," Lex signed, remembering his goal to teach Clark as many words as possible. "Tongue," he added, flicking his tongue out to lick at his scar. "Mouth," came next.

Clark reached out and traced a finger along Lex's lip.

"Lip," Lex signed.

Clark leaned in and kissed him again. Lex felt a strange heat rising up through his torso. It created a tingling sensation in his head.

They finished their meal, exchanging light kisses. Darkness had fallen, and they could no longer sign. Clark stood and took Lex's arm, curving it securely around his neck. Then he began to climb a tree. Lex had wondered what they would do when darkness fell. Staying on the ground was dangerous given the nocturnal beasts who prowled the jungle.

When they had ascended to a height that met Clark's satisfaction, Clark settled Lex onto a thick branch. Lex was positioned so that he could easily wrap his arms around the trunk of the tree, legs dangling comfortably. Clark scooted in behind him, protecting him. Lex rested his head against the tree and listened to the sounds of duikers and nightbirds foraging in the darkness.

He had expected to feel melancholy and lonely. He had anticipated worry gnawing at him all night. Instead, he felt oddly content and safe with Clark leaning against him. He remembered how it felt to have Clark's mouth on his. It hadn't seemed wrong, not really, though Lex couldn't help thinking that it was somehow. In those moments of contact, he had felt connected to Clark in a way that he hadn't ever felt with anyone else. It was with this comforting thought that he fell fast asleep.

The next morning, however, Lex felt terribly guilty for what he had done. Clark had seemed to enjoy the game, but that was only because he didn't know exactly what they had been doing. In many ways, Clark was like a child, lacking in knowledge of the world. Lex felt he had taken advantage of Clark's naivete and inexperience. Plagued by his father's recriminations, Lex spent the morning in a state of agony, ashamed of his impulses and his actions. To make the situation worse, kissing Clark had only awakened in Lex the desire to do more.

In an attempt to distract himself from these upsetting ruminations, Lex focussed his energy upon the problem of grammar. One of the difficulties of teaching Clark to talk was their solitude; Clark could not learn by listening to conversations. He easily memorized vocabulary, but sentence construction was an obstacle he had not yet overcome.

After several rather dismal attempts, Lex finally managed the feat of teaching the difference between "I" and "you" and conveyed the simplest "to be" construction. With his encouragement, Clark had also begun talking in addition to signing.

"The leaf is green," Clark said, signing as well.

Lex smiled, triumphant. Clark knew he had done well, and he continued to point at things.

"The flower is red. The sun is hot. Lex is beautiful. The rock is smooth."

Clark continued to chatter, pleased with his newfound ability, but Lex wasn't listening. Clark had called him beautiful. He probably didn't even understand the meaning of the word, Lex thought. It was an abstract term, one Clark couldn't possibly fathom without knowing other comparative adjectives. It was silly to have noticed the statement at all.

Lex put the thought at the back of his mind and continued to trudge through the dense vegetation. Not even a machete had been found at the camp, leaving Lex without tools to cut the lianas that crossed their path. The strain of their progress began to take its toll on Lex and he paused for a moment to catch his breath and rest his aching muscles.

Clark stood beside him, waiting. The air was heavy and humid and Lex's shirt clung to him. He was beginning to understand why the tribesmen preferred to traipse about naked.

"Lex is hot," Clark said, inching Lex's collar away from his neck.

"You are hot," Lex corrected absentmindedly, distracted by Clark's touch. He glanced down at his damp garment and began to unbutton his shirt, pulling it out from the waist of his pants. He noted with amazement that Clark seemed neither winded nor exhausted by their hike. A fine sheen of sweat covered his body, but there was otherwise no indication that he had exerted himself at all.

Lex peeled the shirt off and folded it before tucking it into the satchel. Clark watched, unwavering, as Lex removed the canteen and drank. Lex held the bottle out to Clark, who swallowed some of the water.

"Lex kiss," he said happily as he put the canteen back into the bag.

Lex tried to formulate the connection in his mind. Clark had an odd non-linear thought process that was occasionally difficult for Lex to follow.

Lex was caught off guard when Clark leaned in and made contact. Then he realized they had kissed while eating, and that Clark now associated the behavior with drinking as well.

"I like kissing you," Lex said without thinking, then felt embarrassed by the admission. "Come on, let's go," he ordered briskly, and began walking.

Late in the afternoon, they came upon a small pool below a waterfall, the first bathing opportunity since before the escape. Lex was thoroughly exhausted and considered halting all progress for the rest of the day. The pleased expression on Clark's face made the decision for him, and he set to work removing his shoes.

Clark dropped the satchel at the edge of the water and jumped into the pool without hesitation. After diving under to wet his hair, he surfaced and watched Lex undress. Lex had grown used to being naked with Clark, and no longer felt the awkwardness that he had felt the first time they had gone swimming together. Now, though, he felt Clark's scrutiny. He blushed not from shame but from awareness that Clark was studying him.

They swam and played for a while, enjoying the cool water, making a tremendous racket. Now that Clark was free from the green stones, he had boundless energy with which to splash and dive. After a time, Lex climbed out and sat on the bank. Clark joined him a minute later, vibrant and beautiful after his swim. Lex stroked Clark's hair, pushing the strands away from his face. It was now difficult to imagine life without him. Clark was his companion and his friend, the only person Lex had left in the world. Clark was his protector, but Lex knew that, if necessary, he would do anything to protect Clark in return.

"Kiss," Clark said and touched his lips to Lex's. An inexplicable thrill coursed through Lex with the knowledge that Clark enjoyed being close to him. The guilt upon his conscience lessened minutely.

"Lips." Clark touched Lex's lower lip with his finger. Lex experienced a moment of pride. Clark was learning so quickly, the words coming naturally to him after being taught only once.

"Teeth." Clark pressed his finger inside Lex's mouth. "Tongue," he said, and waited.

Lex's mind raced, trying to understand what was happening to him. Clark seemed fascinated by his body, wanting to touch him even when there was no reason. I know what you think about my son. The words echoed in his head. He had wondered then what his father meant, and now he thought he knew. It seemed impossible that Clark could want what Lex wanted. It seemed impossible that someone could find him attractive after half a lifetime of being told he was ugly and deformed.

Lex opened his mouth and slid his tongue along the pad of Clark's finger. Clark smiled.

"Eye," he said, touching the corner of Lex's eye. "Nose." He continued naming the parts of Lex's body. Neck, shoulder, arm, hand. Clark examined Lex's shoulder, which was nearly healed. Lex felt a surge of gratitude. Without Clark's care and concern, he would certainly have become lion fodder.

It was miraculous, really, how they had saved each other's lives. Of course, much of the danger Lex had faced had been on Clark's behalf, and vice-versa. They were responsible for one another now; Lex couldn't deny that there was a connection between them. He could only sit still, afraid of breaking the spell that bound them together, afraid that if he moved he would startle Clark and the attentions would cease.

Clark paused at Lex's nipple, pressing it with the tip of his finger. Lex had never been touched there, not in memory. Lex shivered at the unfamiliar sensation. It was so pleasurable that all he could think about was opening his body up to more. Desire had been practically unknown to him, but he knew it now. It felt good to be touched so tenderly, not with metal instruments, but with gentle hands.

"Nipple," Lex said. He was becoming aroused, and he noted with some trepidation that Clark was also. He didn't know what to expect. It wasn't as if either of them knew what they were doing. Were they simply touching one another, or were they making love? What constituted "making love?" Lex felt unequal to defining their actions, and Clark's knowledge no doubt consisted of watching apes rut against one another in the shrubbery. Lex wondered if he should put a stop to what was happening.

Lex could think no further, however, because Clark's hand had brushed against his growing erection. Clark looked at him, waiting for the word. Lex flushed, mortified to say it aloud, unable to back away, and unsure which of the many words he should choose.

"Cock," he whispered finally.

With a sudden movement, Clark pushed Lex onto his back and climbed on top of him, eliminating the need for Lex to make any decisions. The touch of Clark's cock against his was hesitant and exquisite, so completely unknown. They both breathed heavily, overwhelmed by sensation. Lex closed his eyes, unable to bear the pleasure, unable to stop the soft sounds emanating from his throat as Clark's hips jerked against him in an unpracticed rhythm.

Suddenly, without any warning, Clark yelped and leapt away. Lex's eyes flew open to see him holding an arrow. Clark glanced around wildly, then disappeared in a blur. Lex got up as quickly as he could and pressed up against the nearest tree, trying to get his bearings. He couldn't see a soul, but he could hear a struggle as Clark confronted their attacker.

In the distance, he heard someone retreating, running for his life, sounding a warning cry. Clark appeared a moment later, blood on his hands, holding a spear. He squinted, as if he could see through the trees, and surveyed their surroundings. Finally, he appeared satisfied, and he turned to Lex.

"Clark?" Lex said shakily.

"Lex." Clark dropped the spear and enclosed Lex in a tight embrace. Lex clung to him, frightened and grateful at the same time.

They had let their guard down, and had risked death. Lex wondered at the circumstances. It was unlike the natives to attack without provocation. He had a sinking feeling that they might be spies sent by Dr. Green, or perhaps even Lionel, to locate him. It wasn't him they wanted, Lex thought darkly.

He extricated himself from Clark's grasp. "Let's get you cleaned up," he said. "We need to find somewhere safe to spend the night."

Lex blamed himself entirely. He'd known they were in danger, yet he had allowed Clark to feel comfortable. He had allowed things to happen...

As he washed the blood from Clark's hands, he knew that Clark had killed to protect him. He didn't want to put Clark in that position again, and he vowed not to let it happen. From now on, he would be alert and watchful. He dressed himself, then picked up the abandoned spear, mentally preparing himself to use it.

The unwieldy spear was soon abandoned, but Lex had taken the dead native's bow and arrows as well. The quiver fastened comfortably to his back, and he felt more at ease knowing he had some form of protection at his disposal.

He and Clark travelled more warily after the attack. Whenever Clark grew worried or anxious, Lex didn't question him, but simply followed his lead. They continued to head in a westerly direction, gaining elevation, though Lex knew they were losing valuable time. He would have to alter their course toward the south very soon.

On more than one occasion, Clark carried Lex up into a tree to avoid a lion or other beast. Several times, he detoured for reasons unknown to Lex. Only later, when Lex happened to catch the distant beat of a drum or the sound of a hunter's cry, would he realize that Clark was avoiding any type of human interaction.

Lex came to trust Clark absolutely in these matters. He thought sadly that Clark must have spent his life doing this. He wondered if it had been instinctive or learned. Had Clark been attacked or persecuted in the past? There was so much Lex didn't know, and couldn't yet ask despite Clark's growing facility with language.

One day, after they had been travelling nearly a week, Clark halted their progress to study the canopy. "You do not like trees," he said.

It took a moment for Lex to understand what Clark was asking, but when he did, he replied, "I'm afraid of heights."

Clark regarded him with a lack of comprehension. "Why?"

"I'm afraid of falling."

"You are with me."

Clark didn't wait for a response, but simply turned his back to Lex and looked over his shoulder expectantly.

"You are safe," Clark reassured.

Lex took hold of Clark's shoulders, and jumped up. Wrapping his legs around Clark's waist, he closed his eyes, and held on for dear life, feeling rather than seeing the leaves and branches rushing past him as they ascended. When Clark took a leap, his insides threatened to overturn themselves. He pressed his face to Clark's shoulder, trying to shut off his senses.

They continued to glide through the air from tree to tree. Lex could feel Clark's muscles flexing as he took hold of vines and branches. Somehow, through it all, Lex managed to keep the satchel, and the bow and arrows, from tumbling to the distant earth.

Clark's movements were steady and rhythmic, almost relaxing. Soon Lex worked up the courage to open his eyes. The spectacle that met him was wondrous. Below them, glossy leaves glittered in the sunlight, heretofore unknown birds flew back and forth, monkeys chattered and fled in surprise. It was much lighter in the treetops, a whole new world. Lex realized that he hadn't ever really known the jungle before this adventure. Plants he'd never seen perched in the crooks of trees, or simply clung to the branches. For a moment, his fear was forgotten amid burning scientific curiosity.

Every now and then, they seemed to defy the pull of gravity, almost floating for an instant, poised in mid-air. It was a strange sensation, what Lex imagined it must feel like to be a bird capable of powering oneself through the air.

The only drawback to canopy travel was that they could not converse. Moreover, though Clark did not appear to tire, Lex found that clinging tenaciously for long periods of time took a great amount of effort. By early afternoon, he was dizzy, and incapable of withstanding the process any longer. He called out to Clark and within moments they had come to a halt on a sturdy branch.

Lex wobbled dizzily, waiting for his world to settle into definable images. He knew they had made a great deal of progress and he suggested they stop for the day. With grace and ease, Clark lifted Lex in his arms and descended back to earth.

Neither of them had eaten or drunk all day, and they made quick work of the remaining water in the canteen.

"I get water," Clark announced.

"I will get water," Lex corrected.

Clark processed the correction, then disappeared in a blur. Lex removed the quiver and set down the satchel. His muscles ached from the demands he had made of them. He seated himself on the ground and waited for Clark to return.

As if by some unspoken agreement, they had both been avoiding intimate contact. Though they still touched and kissed, there was no attempt to repeat what they had been doing when they were attacked. They could not afford to let their guard down.

The memory of that day haunted Lex's thoughts. He wanted nothing more than to take up where they had left off. Fear and shame battled with desire and love, for as much as he wanted to do it again, it frightened him. Clark had always treated him with such care and gentleness, but in that moment he had been animalistic and forceful. Lex could only extrapolate what Clark might do in the throes of passion.

Lex's thoughts were interrupted by Clark's return. Clark held both food and a full canteen in his arms. Sitting beside Lex, he said, "I... got water."

Lex smiled, then leaned over to kiss him. Clark set down his burdens and returned the kiss, opening his mouth to let Lex's tongue play against his. Lex was discovering slowly exactly how tantalizing kissing could be. He retreated before he had quite had his fill, but he knew better than to continue. Already his skin tingled with anticipation that would morph into arousal if unchecked.

Clark gazed raptly at him, then signed something without speaking. Lex blinked, unsure if he had seen correctly. He had never taught Clark the sign... When had he learned it? Then Lex recalled that night, after Clark had killed the lion to protect him. Lex had stood outside the cage in the falling darkness and signed the phrase. Clark had seen him and had remembered all this time, even guessing the meaning of what Lex had communicated.

Without hesitation, Lex signed back, "I love you, too."

Travelling by air had drastically increased the distance they were able to cover in a day, and Lex knew they would arrive at port in good time. Now that they were close, however, he was faced with a dilemma: Clark simply could not come with him to the port. The risks were too numerous. People would know Clark was different, and Lex, with his distinctive appearance, would only increase that perception. Thus, Lex knew he had to leave Clark behind, and he had to do it soon.

Lex suspected that Clark already knew.

After another long day of being airborne, they stopped to rest in one of the treetops. Clark squinted, surveying the land to the south and west of them where scattered villages lay. "It is not safe. We will stay in the trees," he said.

Lex glanced downward, stomach lurching at the thought of sleeping so high above the ground. "Clark, I can't. It's too high."

Clark peered into the weave of branches below them. He motioned for Lex to climb onto his back again, and they descended almost to the ground.

"Wait," Clark said, then disappeared.

Lex could hear the snapping of twigs and breaking of branches somewhere nearby, though he could see nothing beyond the dense foliage. He readied an arrow, back pressed to the trunk of the tree in which he was perched. His exhaustion made it difficult to stay alert, but he forced himself to pay attention to every sound, every visual cue.

Finally, after an eternity, Clark reappeared, enabling Lex to relax.

"Where were you?" Lex took Clark's hand.

Without a word, Clark swung both of them gracefully through the trees until he alit on a small platform similar to the one Lex had woken upon after his injury. Lex sank down onto the ferns. Clark had built this for him, he realized in amazement. It was a simple treehouse, no more than branches bound with vines and covered in ferns, yet Lex found it more enticing than his own canopied bed in New York.

Clark gazed down at him, awaiting his response.

"Come here," Lex said. He set the satchel and the quiver down and lay back on the ferns. It wasn't as soft as Clark's other treehouse, but he knew that one had been much longer in the making.

Clark sprawled beside him and Lex reached out to touch, as if pulled by gravity. Clark was so beautiful, so unlike anyone Lex had ever met in his life. It was odd, Lex thought, that it took someone from an unknown world to make him feel this human.

"Lex," Clark said.

Lex waited, but there were no more words. Clark hovered over him, pulling at his shirt. Under the fabric, Lex's skin ached for contact. He sat up and unbuttoned it as quickly as he could, sensing Clark's impatience. He hesitated only a moment before divesting himself of the rest of his clothes.

All around them, leaves rustled and shimmered, forming a thick blanket of green through which no one could see. Lex felt safe and protected, even as the platform swayed gently with his movements.

His heart quickening in anticipation, Lex settled back, closing his eyes, surrendering completely, opening himself up to whatever Clark's impulses might lead him to do. Arousal heightened his sensitivity until even the slightest contact between their bodies felt like something collapsing and falling. Lex could hardly breathe, could feel Clark's cock prodding inquisitively at his belly. The skin was so soft, almost delicate. Lex wanted to touch it, and did, stroking lightly, exploring and memorizing.

He wondered exactly what Clark was thinking. Did he understand what they were doing, or was he simply fulfilling some animal urge to mate? Lex only knew that when they touched, he felt more connected to Clark. They could communicate with their bodies in ways they couldn't with words.

Lex opened his eyes and found Clark staring intently at him as if he knew everything that was going through Lex's mind. He touched Lex's face tenderly, with such care that all traces of fear were replaced with desire. Lex thrust his hips up, ready for more. The gesture seemed to spark Clark to action. He growled and ground forcefully into Lex, quick and erratic.

All his life, Lex had been treated like a specimen, something to be owned and studied, but this type of possession was entirely different. He wanted to belong to Clark. He wanted Clark to look at him and study him and stake his claim. Lex angled his body so he could feel more skin brushing against his erection. They rocked together for a minute, then Clark increased the pace of his movements just slightly. A moment later, Lex felt a warm spill of liquid across his chest. Clark continued to rub his body against Lex's until Lex could bear the friction no longer. His release, when it came, was so powerful, he was unable to speak for several minutes. After Clark rolled off of him, he simply lay and listened to the sounds of the forest, to the sounds of day drawing to a close.

When he turned his head, Clark was gazing at him with an adoration that made Lex feel like the most beautiful person in the world. For a moment, he forgot how many times he'd been ridiculed and mocked for his appearance, his odd interests, and his shyness. When he was with Clark, none of that mattered.

Lex inched closer and kissed him lightly. He would wait until morning to tell Clark that they would have to separate. He wanted this night, at least. He wanted to lie in the treetops and pretend the rest of the world didn't exist.

Clark was still asleep when Lex woke early the next morning. Lex had never had the opportunity to see Clark at ease, unaware of his surroundings. As if he could sense that Lex had woken, Clark opened his eyes.

"Lex," he said happily.

Lex caressed the tanned skin of Clark's chest, revelling in the fact that he could touch Clark that way. Clark scooted closer and put his arm around Lex.

If Lex had wondered before what Clark felt, he knew now that sex was not simply a procreative impulse to him, but rather an expression of love and affection. The previous night, after the edge had been taken off of their passion, Clark had spent a long time kissing and touching Lex. The scientific part of Lex's brain wondered how it was possible, how someone who had lived life as an animal, wild and unsocialized, could be so intrinsically human.

The revelation had only increased Lex's anxiety about leaving Clark. Feeling guilty, Lex pulled away from the kiss Clark pressed to his mouth.

"Clark," Lex began. He took a deep breath. "It's time for me to go on alone. It isn't safe for you to travel with me."

"I will go with you."

"You can't. My father might still be alive. Dr. Green may be looking for you. I don't want them ever to find you again."

Clark shook his head. "Your father will hurt you."

"You know what they'll do to you if they find you again. I'm sure they have green rocks ready to capture you. Even if my father is dead, the other scientists will want you. I won't let it happen. I want you to stay here and wait for me to come back."

"No. I will go with you," Clark repeated stubbornly. "I am quick."

"They caught you before," Lex pointed out.

Clark turned away, a pained expression on his face.

"I'll see if they've reached port and if my father is alive. I need you to promise that you won't follow me. Do you promise?"

"Promise?" Clark asked.

"It means you'll do as I say."

"No," Clark said, clinging to Lex.

"Yes," Lex kissed Clark's neck.

"You will not go."

Lex could feel the strength of Clark's grip, his determination to make Lex stay. "Why do you think we came all this way? I have to find out. I have to know, Clark. He's my father. I can't pretend he isn't important to me. He may not be the best man in the world, but he raised me. I need to know if he's alive or dead."

Clark seemed to understand this speech, but he didn't release his hold on Lex. Lex pushed against Clark, rolling him onto his back. Clark relaxed once Lex's full weight rested on him.

"You know I'm right," Lex said. "I have to protect you. You've already suffered enough because of me. I couldn't bear to see you that way again. You're not meant to be in a cage."

Lex propped himself up on his elbows and gazed into Clark's wide green eyes. Suddenly, he thought he understood. Clark didn't think he would see Lex ever again. Their last separation had been nearly five weeks. It must have seemed like forever to Clark, alone in his cage with no one to care for him.

Lex watched in wonder as a tear rolled from the corner of Clark's eye and slid down toward his ear. Lex caught it on his