Notes: This fic was inspired really late one night by listening to an instrumental song entitled 'Landscape' from the Capcom video game, Breath of Fire 4.

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Wish I did, though.

The ringing of church bells, a deep hollow sound that reverberated through everything, could be heard in the distance, mixing with the sound of thousands upon millions of tiny drops of moisture upon the surfaces of the world.

The world, it appeared, shared in his soul-deep pain of this day, this horrible, cold day. It felt like the heavens were crying with him and painting the world a cold, monotone picture.

The graveyard was rather small, and the mausoleums were a cold gray in the overcast light that barely made it through thick black clouds. The rain traced, almost lovingly, the names engraved on each head stone and statue, blurring the world and making it seem almost a passing dream. Except for the cold that had seeped into his very soul on this heart wrenching day.

Tucked under his arm, ever present as of late, was his cousin, Kara. His adopted sister, his competition and Supergirl, she had been, and still was, one of the few who seemed to understand his pain. The pain of the loss of one so dear that he'd had to push the other man away for fear of hurting him. He'd hurt them both even more and had only just gotten around to saying what had needed to be said, but too late; Lex was gone.

Cold jet, just like the black obelisk with his name that had marked him dead to the world in the Luthor family grave yard so many years ago, it was the last thing to mark the man's passing.

Raven hair plastered to his skull and face from the force of the rain, dead and hallow hazel eyes glancing at the few who had joined him (Diana and Bruce, his mom and dad, Chloe, Pete and Lana), he closed his eyes to the rain pouring down upon him and upon freshly churned earth that hadn't even settled with the cold moisture pouring over it, trying to batter its way through. As though to seep even more cold deadness into the buried man.

The cold water dripping from his eyelashes, tracing his cheek and mixing with tears long since spent, reminding him of when he and the forever sleeping Lex Luthor had met.

It had been in a river, a watery grave, when he was just barely fifteen. Lex had crashed into his life, quite literally, and he'd just barely saved the bald man. Had just breathed life back into water-logged lungs and the minute slate blue eyes looked up at him, delirious and coming back from the edge of death, he'd fallen. Hard, fast, and with no bottom in sight.

They'd become friends, best friends; they'd killed for each other, they'd saved each other, they'd lied for each other, and in the end, fallen deeply in love with each other.

It hadn't been until his second year of college that he'd figured it out while struggling to hold together a relationship that was going nowhere fast. It had hit him when he and Lex had been talking about, of all things, a boring game of golf they'd both been forced to watch while waiting for something else to come on the TV in Lex's penthouse apartment in Metropolis.

They'd both been just sitting there on the couch, and Lex had smiled about something and it had hit him like a sucker-punch to the gut that he was in love. With his best friend. Had been, forever.

Thunder crashed over the sound of thumping rain, drawing him further into memories while the priest continued on with the muted service, the sound of the falling of Mother Nature's tears nearly drowning the man's words out.

He hadn't reacted well to that revelation. Not only had he broken up with his girlfriend, but he'd steadfastly avoided Lex. Until he'd been cornered, one rainy night in July. And against the wall to his dorms, he'd shown the smaller man just how deeply his feelings had run. Their first kiss had been passion and light and sweet and fire. It had been everything to him when Lex had returned the gesture with sweet, soft assurances that he, too, had been in love with his best friend forever and a day.

After graduating Met U, and after having dated Lex for over two years, they'd moved in together. They'd been blissfully in love, totally unaware that they'd be swept away from each other, never again to hold each other.

It had been the coming of Superman that had ultimately gotten between them. Age-old secrets, eternal lies that stank like acrid smoke that should have best been set aside for the truth.

"A relationship based on lies and deceit has no grounds to last," Lex had said once.

Even as the rain poured over him, soaking him to the bone, chilling him in a way it never had before and mixing with more tears that wouldn't stop, he remembered Lex's words. Sweet, poisonous words as he explained the Kryptonite ring that made him sick, both physically and emotionally; heart sick that he couldn't go near his lover any longer.

Vile lies had sprung between them, making them vicious enemies, and it hadn't been until years later, long after the Justice League had grown from six lonely heroes to gargantuan proportions, that either of them had even begun to make amends. But by then, it was much too late. Lex had already been infected with cancer caused by that be-damned ring that had stolen his right hand. And him, trying to forget the pain of losing his other half, had married Lois Lane.

Lois, for her part, knew that it hadn't been for love on his part. But she'd fantasized and told him that he was free to leave her at any time. But he hadn't had the heart, not until he'd found out Lex was sick again.

This time, for what would be the last time.

Kara held him tighter, burrowing further into his side, squeezing so hard that a normal human would probably have broken in half. But he was grateful for the slight sting, though it did nothing to ease the pain of missing part of himself. Leaving part of himself in that grave that he stood in front of while the priest wound down his sermon and blessings of a happy-ending.

Lex had been so sick in the end, feverish and begging him to end it quickly. Pain-filled admissions of hurt pride, bile-inducing bouts of anger and betrayal, and finally sweet whispered words of love that had been with them until the sick man's dieing breath had caressed the super-hero's cheek.

For all his powers, for all his knowledge, he hadn't been able to save the one precious thing in his life that had kept him saving the world.

Finally, it was over, the rain pouring harder and mixing with tears that continued to trace his face.

"C'mon, Clark; time to go," Kara whispered to him softly but he just shook his head.

No, Clark Kent had died on that sunny, warm day that his lover's last breath had been expelled on a whisper of love from between pale, sick-white lips.

All that was left was Superman; and even a part of the alien had been washed away in the rain of blood and tears.