Disclaimer: I do not own Smallville, Superman, its characters, or anything associated.
A/N: Yup, more Clex, but this is a futurefic. It's also more of a mix between Smallville Clark and Lex, and the Clark and Lex from the comics, which was fun to write.
Enjoy, and please review.
Conversation I
"Why did you want my secrets?" it asked, accusation and condemnation tainted with the sickly sound of sadness. Lex sighed, leaning against the white wall and looking ahead at the creature bathed in blue and red.
"That's too simple a question for such an elaborate answer," he replied smoothly.
It crossed its once dangerously muscular arms stating, "We've got time."
Lex laughed darkly, "Yes, we do don't we; all the time in the world."
"Luthor, for once, can't you just answer the question?" it ordered with complaint lacing its tone. "I'm tired of playing games with you."
Games. Lex let the word sweep over him with familiarity, but what was life but a game? He had long ago discovered that it was so, and he excelled at it as he had once dominated all adversaries on the long ago chessboard. People were merely pawns to move around on his checkered path, useful only in their servitude. It was all about moving forward, growing stronger, more intelligent, more prepared. Of course, it was played by all to survive; by the wise and dim-witted alike, because to lose the game was to let oneself fade into nothing but a bitter memory.
"Our games have always required two players," Lex stated, drawing up his knees and steepling his fingers, "and you've always been an avid participant."
"We wouldn't have had to be if you-"
"Succumbed to the bizarre bouts of blindness everyone around you seemed so strongly susceptible to? Followed your unique and highly selective code of conduct?" Lex rattled off, eyes never leaving the deceptive blue ones of the alien. "Left the world to you and your wolves called heroes?"
"How about being an honest man, not shooting down anyone in your way, or not paying off court officials while bribing half the politicians in Metropolis!" it shot back, aggressively getting to its feet from where it'd been lounging previously on the floor.
"We both know that you shouldn't even have the gall to preach about honesty," Lex glanced at the other lazily, already almost bored with the conversation. "You've always been unable to see beyond your narrow minded limitations."
The creature crossed its arms, blessedly blocking the blaring symbol painted in yellow on its chest.
"You mean that I'm not willing to break the law for my own agenda?" it questioned sternly, but Lex's smile stayed in place.
"No, no, Kal-El," Lex shook his head, missing the uncomfortable look from the alien. "I didn't break the law. I merely bent it."
"You put peoples lives at stake," it responded, voice shifting to something a little softer, stone sanded down. "Knowingly, and for your own ends. That's what matters, not what you call it."
"Well, I always did have the best teachers," Lex pointed out, gesturing with one hand, "and it's a difficult fight to oppose both nurture and nature."
"You could have tried," the alien stated. "You could have won once."
"And when might that have been?" he inquired lightly. "When you wisely decided I wasn't worth saving? Or perhaps when I became the sole person able to look past the benevolent mask of Superman? I was born for this part, and I eventually just accepted the script."
"I never pegged you for someone to give up," it recalled without the sweet cover of nostalgia. "You always said you wanted to be great."
Leaning back and resting his head against the cool surface of the wall, Lex too could remember conversations, promises he made to himself; to himself and to a boy who never existed. He still held so much admiration and awe for his beloved Alexander, and Napoleon would always hold his own special meaning deep within his heart.
However, the enemy he had found himself facing was far greater than a Persian army or the frozen, fruitless land of Russia, and it required much more compromise and sacrifice.
"I was great," Lex announced without any doubt. "One day, after the world has matured, after overcoming the natural abhorrence to the deed, it'll remember that Lex Luthor never flew to the winds of an alien."
"You never flew at all," it denied vehemently, but Lex was not deterred.
"I suppose things have always been a matter of point of view, haven't they, Kal-El?"
Finally revealing some of its irritation, the being said, "Why do you call me that, Luthor?"
"The same reason my surname has replaced my first," Lex explained simply. "That's who you really are."
"You don't know who I am," it denied, "and if you ever did, that was a long time ago."
"No, I'll concede my view of you then was skewed," Lex admitted, proud he wasn't the one who first dredged up memories of years long passed and buried. "But after all this time, even including your precious Lois Lane, I'm the only one who really knows."
Brushing off the pants of his white suit, Lex stood, fixing the alien with a stare.
"Your name is Kal-El. You were born on a deceased planet called Krypton, inhabited by a foolish race that believed it could overcome science and time. You fell to this planet, into the arms of an unfulfilled couple desperate enough to welcome anything into their lives if they could call it their child."
Beginning to pace a little, calmly overriding the alien's attempts to interject, Lex continued.
"With a human face, you grew unnoticed for the most part, interlocking yourself into the community. Eventually, you flew into the country as a superhero, making incredible strength and speed secondhand in our thought processes compared to smiles and kindness."
"But the bottom line," Lex concluded, breathing deeply and lifting a single finger, "is that you, Kal-El, are an alien. Clark Kent and Superman are merely facades. You are an alien, a menace to the world as I know it. You had to be stopped."
Giving the creature another one of those slow smirks, he finished, "So I stopped you."
If it were only a few years back in time, Lex would've had to have watched blue eyes widen with dramatic pain and distress. Now, they only hardened to steel, at the same time conveying something horribly condescending. It was a patent Superman look, yet no matter how many times he saw it, the face always alighted a spark of rage inside of him, burning and scathing. He despised pity, loathed the idea of anyone daring to question his strength, especially an alien.
Because, for all its fantastic powers, its heated eyes and x-ray vision, Lex knew he was much stronger than Kal-El.
"I've only tried to help the planet," the alien began responding, a few seconds of silence after Lex's speech, "these people. I'm a part of Earth even if I wasn't born here. I love it; it's my home. I used my powers to help the world, and I never intended to cause anyone pain, just to stop it."
"You let your delusions take hold of you," it preached. "I was never going to hurt anyone."
That stung, because for all his aplomb, insanity always held a grip on Lex's deeper fears. He knew how it was to know things no one would believe, to see faces stare at him like he was nothing more than a dumb animal; confused and pitiful.
Yet, his knowledge calmed him, as it always could. His breathing did not quicken, hiding his brief inner conflict. Lex knew what was true, and what was a lie. Stifling a chuckle, Lex knew for certain that no one was drugging his drinks this time.
"Oh, but you could," Lex returned to the present and replied. "Haven't you ever looked out the window, out into all the destruction and unnecessary chaos, and thought, 'I could make this so much better.'"
He finally released the smothered laugh.
"I have. I knew with the power and the means, I could change the way humans live. Poverty could be forgotten, crime, no longer efficient. All the things I could do as President, all by the will of the people."
Lex began moving again, taking a few steps towards the alien slowly.
"But not you," he went on, "no, that wouldn't be your way. You'd look down at us from where you fly so high up in the sky, down on our pesky squabbles, our murder, our selfishness. You'd look down, and maybe one day you'd decide that it's not worth it anymore. With all the despicable hate we unleash, why let the humans roam free when they can so easily be called to heel?"
Stopping in front of Clark, Lex tilted his head upward, eyes shining and mocking.
"You'd just take to the skies in all your primary colored glory. Why ask the people when you can do it all yourself, all so simply? It'd be so effortless to take over, almost laughable to have your costumed council collect the one thing that might stop you. You'd take away our free will, our rights and freedom to write our own destinies, blackened and bloodied as they may be. But it would be for the betterment of mankind, or so you would reason to yourself."
Lips twisted cruelly, Lex leaned closer.
"I dare you to tell me you've never thought about it."
The alien stared directly into Lex's eyes, gaze steady, unintimidated and unashamed.
"I have," it admitted with an ashen honesty, "but I never did. It's not what you imagine, but what you really do that matters."
The conviction in the reply released a sneer from Lex, and he strode away as far as their limitations would allow. There was so much white everywhere. It was a wonder he didn't sink inside and fade away.
When no other words passed between their lips, the creature began again, 'We've really gone off track from the original question."
"Your," Lex wouldn't acknowledge the bitter taste the word left in his mouth, "secrets."
"Well," he turned around to face the other once more, "why did you want to know mine?"
Sighing heavily, the alien muttered, "Do you always have to be so evasive?"
Refusing to call back his words, Lex only replied curtly, "You said you wanted an answer. Here it is."
Thinking briefly for a few moments, it acknowledged, "Your secrets put people's lives in danger."
Releasing a dignified snort, Lex clasped his hands behind his back, white fabric murmuring gently.
"Didn't yours?" he returned, raising a single eyebrow. "How many mutants had their lives ended by your botched rescue attempts? How many paths have you altered, how much hatred have you brewed, putting your identity and powers before all else?"
"But," Lex paused smugly, "I'm sure you know all this, whether you acknowledge it or not. And besides, this isn't supposed to be an examination of your conscience, is it?"
The alien continued waiting, face a laughable mask that had Lex wondering how he knew which one to put on anymore. Still, he could see the guilt he had watered by a tensing in its face, still living and bearing fruit.
"I never wanted your secrets," Lex opened, moving forward even through the expression of disbelief.
"I never had to. I knew them once you revealed yourself to my city."
"What I wanted," Lex explained slowly, "were Clark Kent's secrets, and if you want to really understand that, you'll need to listen. As far as you've demonstrated, that isn't one of your remarkable abilities."
"I asked you the question. Of course I want the answer," it spoke up, leaving Lex to nod.
"I'm sure," he drawled, starting to speak again, "nonetheless."
"It was never really about Clark himself, something you and he conveniently pushed from your minds," Lex said. "My desire for those secrets began when I lived through an impossible accident, saved in such a manner that renowned scientists could not explain. So many incidents, inhuman feats, were happening all around Smallville, around me. I'm not a fool, Kal-El, and despite Clark's denial, I knew there was an honest answer somewhere. I was searching for a how, and it was no fault of mine that the how was indeed a whom."
"Second," Lex took a moment for a breath, "Clark was a horrible liar. Adrenalin. Luck. Anyone could see it was impossible. I've always craved the truth, especially a mystery deliberately hidden from me. I'd rather open Pandora's box and manage with the consequences than let the evils inside fester and break loose on their own."
"Then there is, perhaps the most humiliating reason," Lex's voice grew deceptively warmer with a short laugh. "At the time, deluded as I was, I thought Clark was my friend. I wanted to understand him. I shared so much of myself; did everything I could to assist him and his family that the truth didn't seem so much in return. Some weak part of me thought that if someone so good, someone so loved, trusted me, well…"
The laugh burnt black, acrid and ruined, tainting the pure air.
"It doesn't matter now. The illusion of Clark Kent is dead, and that part of me died with him. All else is irrelevant."
During his explanation, Lex had paced around the room, gesturing along with his words. As they dwindled dry, he turned back to the alien, asking, "I hope that answers your question."
The creature's answer came as, "But the way you went about it, the investigators, testing me-"
"Kal-El," Lex interjected, raising his still placid voice.
"I explained them, more than once, to you when you were parading about as an innocent boy from Kansas," then suddenly, his eyes froze cold and his tone slipped in poison. "I'm not about to do it again. I've wasted enough years of my life explaining. I'm not about to waste an eternity doing the same."
Minutes passed with nothing. Silence reigned, and Lex gratefully worshipped the new monarch until the alien's voice cracked its throne, sending peace tumbling down.
"Why do we always…can't we ever just agree on one thing that started all this?"
Despite the strength of that body, there was pleading in that voice, pleading that had Lex sneering in contempt. Sitting back against the wall, sprawling out his legs for comfort, he responded, holding out his arms like a martyr.
"Of course. You killed Clark Kent, I killed you, and here we are."
Conversation II
"Why'd you shoot me?"
Looking at the alien from across the room, both beings sitting against the blank walls, Lex released a small sigh before replying.
"It was time," was his response, simple, cool, and forcibly bored. The creature didn't seem satisfied with the answer, fixing its blue eyes on Lex's own, trying to dig deeper passed Lex's defenses, clawing and wrenching without success. Over time, Lex had built himself up out of something stronger to steel, hard enough to keep a super man outside the walls.
"Why now?" it prodded, leaning forward. The blaring cape slithered against the floor, worthless and stupid now without any wind to let it soar. "After all this time, why then?"
"It was tiresome," Lex spoke, showing no interest in the topic, "losing so much every time you burst into one of my buildings unannounced. There was no point in continuing my attempts in revealing your true nature to the public. You've wound them too tightly around you for me to open their minds. It was the right time to eliminate the threat."
"I wasn't…" the alien started but stopped, instead changing its course. "Did you have to put so many people in danger to do it?"
"It was the only way," Lex admitted, truthful guilt coating his words. "It would be impossible to catch you unaware unless you were thoroughly distracted."
The creature's voice was full of hatred and fury when it growled, "Ten people died in that fire, Luthor."
"It was regrettable that they had to be sacrificed," Lex reiterated, "but they gave their lives to a worthy cause. Sometimes a few must suffer for the whole to prosper and survive."
"There was no reason for any one of those people to have to die," the alien denied, powerful hands clenching into fists. "I've never purposely hurt anyone, I never would. You're the only person too paranoid to see that."
"Have you ever seen Metropolis after those grand epic battles you're so fond of having?" Lex questioned, saddened tone morphing into one of mockery. "Have you ever looked at the decimated buildings you leave behind after you crash through them? Have you ever stopped to take count of the people buried under the rubble and broken glass?"
It said nothing, looking downwards with widened eyes, staring at the floor with a probably wavering vision. With tears glistening down its face, it was the perfect parody of hopelessness and sorrow.
"I'm surprised," Lex relinquished, watching drops of water disappear upon hitting the floor. "Did you honestly believe they had somehow been miraculously evacuated? Why didn't you ever put that x-ray vision of yours to good use?"
"It's hard to think about all that when you're being tossed through the air by another alien race trying to destroy the planet," it snapped, still crying disgustingly, hands fisted in nothing but air.
"I doubt they'd ever have arrived if it wasn't for your presence," Lex announced, relentless even at the furious expression on the sun-tanned face. "It was you and your illustrious fanfare that attracted all of them to Earth at all."
"How many?" the alien grunted out, glaring at the ground, teeth clenched.
"Altogether, or every time you-"
"How many!" it shouted, jerking its head up to stare at Lex with red-rimmed eyes, face lined with streams of moisture, mouth twisted in the epitome of tortured snarls.
Getting more comfortable against the hard wall, Lex recited easily, "Four thousand, six hundred, and forty two."
Grinning cruelly at the broken sobs that began wracking the creature only a few crossable feet away, Lex added offhandedly, "Of course, that's without taking into consideration that forty three out of the one thousand, seven hundred, and sixteen women were pregnant."
The alien stopped breathing, and Lex allowed an innocent expression to creep upon his face.
"Would you like the new number?"
The alien almost roared then, on its feet so quickly it made Lex's head spin, as accustomed to the speed as he was. It turned away from Lex, facing the expressionless wall, pounding into it with what was most likely all of its strength. The wall stood against it, unwavering, not a single crack or dent appearing as invulnerable fists crashed against what was undoubtedly not plaster and the pathetic imitation of paint called white wash.
Eventually, it stilled, breathing heavily, shoulders lifting up and down, connected to a heaving chest. Its head was bowed with self-imposed shame, a manipulative picture of a perfect, lovable, failure of a savior.
After it seemed to catch its breath, movements becoming more regular, Lex got to his feet and sauntered over. He only stopped a few inches behind the alien, overriding his disgust at the closeness to lean only closer still.
Knowing his voice would ghost right over the alien's ear, he intoned,
"Four thousand, six hundred, and eighty five."
Lex's mind was expecting the fist that connected with his jaw, but that didn't mean his body was prepared for it. He went flying backwards, smacking against the wall loudly enough to release a crack that could've been thunder. The shock of the impact sent him spiraling towards the floor, but there was no blood, no broken bones, and there would be no bruises. No; none of that here.
"What's wrong?" Lex asked, keeping his hand down even though it wanted to wipe across his mouth from reflex alone. "Unable to handle the fall from your own pedestal?"
The alien was standing before him in a moment, eyes glowing and face carved out of marble lines. It looked almost as monstrous as Lex had ever seen it, and if only he could, Lex wanted to capture that picture and paste it on every door in Metropolis. Let every man, woman, and child see the true face of their savior; their hero. Let Nietzsche see the horror he unleashed when he penned the first foreshadowing of Superman.
Let the world see the abomination they had placed their lives in, and let them see why Lex Luthor had killed it.
"This is why I shot you down, Kal-El," Lex gasped, swallowing air back into his lungs. "For every life you put in danger, for all the ones you would've ended on your noble crusade for justice."
The alien dragged him up, knees sliding against the floor before leaving the ground, angry fingers pushing aside the white tie and wrinkling the white shirt underneath his white suit.
"I put a kryptonite bullet in your heart," Lex continued, feeling his feet drag for a second against the floor, "for all the ones you broke."
Face left smeared with tears and fire, the alien searched Lex's face, still hidden, still impenetrable.
"Then why are you here?" it demanded, shaking Lex slightly, limbs still trembling with enough rage to topple continents if it could. "What killed you?"
Lex smiled, even while trying to yank away the hand keeping him airborne.
"You did."
Suddenly Lex was back on the floor, on his back and blinking from the abrupt change, and the alien was across the room, shaking its head rapidly.
"No, I didn't. I wouldn't! You-You shot me, how could I-"
"It could have been accidental, an uncontrollable spasm from your muscles as you died," Lex offered, struggling to his feet with impressive grace, smoothing down his lapels. "Maybe, in your final moments, you finally committed the act you had always dreamed of."
Ignoring the creature's forceful, "No!", Lex turned towards it, not looking at all as if he had just been dangling and powerless .
"Or maybe, after our lives were so hopelessly intertwined," Lex thought, a finger resting on his bottom lip in contemplation, "one left to die and one to live wasn't in destiny's plans."
The alien was crying again then, sobbing, emotions flying around its face openly in a way it had never really learned to disguise. It sank back to the floor; head on its knees, and Lex curled his lip in distaste, putting a few steps more between he and the sorry sight.
"I never," it gulped, not raising its head. "I never wanted this to happen, for it to come to this. God, you were just doing horrible things. I had to stop you. We were never supposed to, you weren't, I wasn't ever going to…"
"Our lives shouldn't have turned out this way, Lex," and the name fell of its lips, apparently so easily, with such familiarity that it made Lex cringe. He moved back even further, further away from the thing now staring at him with shining eyes, watery and lost. A name in a voice he hadn't heard for what felt like decades, and the use of it now filled with rage that it would even dare.
"Our lives played out the way they were meant to," Lex declared forcibly. "One of us destroyed the world, and one of us saved it, as expected and prophesized from the beginning of time."
The flow of words stopped from both rivers then as they both bubbled in turmoil, minds dreaming about God and Lucifer, and who was really right in the end.
Conversation III
"Did you ever love me?"
"You?" Lex chuckled shortly, like the question is nothing more than a badly delivered joke. "No, I never loved you."
"Dammit! You know what I mean, Lex," the alien crumpled a little from the other's reply, slumped weakly against the wall, all the strength drained from those impressive limbs.
"I've afraid I haven't a clue," Lex denied, staring up at the bare ceiling from his position on the floor as if it was the most fascinating thing he had ever seen. Only the most minute quirk of the lips could reveal anything of what was occurring inside.
"Clark," the alien clarified, staring with eyes somehow shadowed. "Did you ever love me, when…Did you ever love Clark?"
Lex slid his gaze to where the creature sat, taking in the unique upside down view.
"Now, how is it even possible to love something that doesn't exist?" he spoke airily enough to pretend the question was purely hypothetical.
"I existed," it stated adamantly, besides the weepy tone. Lex kept his stare, wondering why all it took for the strongest being to break was a glance in the mirror at its own sins, at the haunting specter of possibilities lost.
"No, he didn't," Lex disagreed, shaking his head just a bit. "Clark Kent was nothing more than-"
"Stop it!" the alien demanded, sudden boom of noise at odds with the still spineless picture leaking all over the floor. "That's my life; who I am. You have no right to say it didn't exist, or doesn't. I'm Clark, and Superman, and Kal-El, and I'm all those things."
It was breathless by the end of it, yet still continued while Lex waited patiently, "Everyone has different sides of them, Lex; different people they have to be. You did it. You were a completely different person with your father than you were with me."
"Treating my father differently than the way I treated a friend," Lex responded slowly, words rolling off his tongue thick and slow, "is like comparing the way one treats Hitler compared to Gandhi."
Still glancing up at the alien from his relaxed position, Lex said, "And my…differences didn't have their own names, Kal-El."
"Sure they did," it argued. "There was Luthor, and there was Lex."
"And so I was labeled by other voices outside my own."
"You know who named me Superman," the creature laughed weakly, cringing from the memory at the same time. "And my parents named me Clark and Kal-El, just…two sets of them."
"Yet both my 'titles' are part of one name attached to one life," Lex rebutted silkily, "while your names came from three different sources and two different galaxies."
"And while the usage of my surname or my first depends on feelings of either tolerance or enmity," Lex went on, aware that the small smile on his face transferred to either a frown or a grimace to the alien, "yours are appropriate based on what life you decide to live that day."
"So Smallville…was a different life," the alien stated more than asked.
"For you," Lex differentiated. "For me, it was a journey."
"Did you love me then?" the alien refused to let the question be twisted any longer, crawling closer to Lex along the floor. "In that life, or before you went down the road you chose? Did you love me, when I was Clark and you were Lex, and we were best friends?"
And despite all the time that passed, if Lex was more foolish; weaker, he could strip away the years, look up into the needy, earnest face above him and see its hair dripping with river water and desperation. The eyes were just as blue, the mouth just as open and afraid, now fearful of an answer instead of a still heart.
The view's distortion, along with noble, but hateful baggage, kept him from straying from the truth, the path that had brought them both to this moment.
"If Clark Kent had been real," Lex chose his words cautiously, trying to limit the possible humiliation while keeping in mind that the alien was sure to recognize a lie, "then yes, I would have loved him."
"But," he finished, gleefully watching the face above him fall, "you can't fall in love with a dream."
"Why do you have to say it's a dream, Lex?" the alien asked, still hovering over Lex, who refused to show his discomfort. "It was real, I was real. You have to know that!"
"No," Lex was becoming far too familiar with the word. "No, Clark Kent was just a result of your hopeful fantasies, and mine. Your need to pretend to belong among us, and mine to prove…"
Lex abruptly became away of how deep the conversation was becoming, and he rolled away from the alien's invasive gaze, sitting upwards and allowing the world to right itself around him.
"But can't," the alien was struggling, no longer as hard and composed as it had been such a short indefinable while ago, and perhaps that was what this room did, stripped away the guises until all that was left was what really was. Underneath it all, the alien in front of him was an outsider, with a mindset still very young, dressed in the garb that no longer allowed for elusive excuses. "Now, look at where we are. We have all this time, and we have to be here, together, for some sort of reason. This could be our chance to-"
"To what, Kal-El?" Lex droned through, purposefully eyeing the alien with disgust. "To pretend our lives never existed, and to start over anew? To ignore the people I've murdered, the lies you've sown, the blood we've spilled with our own hands?"
"I…No, I can't forget what you've done," the creature admitted, its passion slumping. "But, I know that now, I could forgive."
"Oh, Kal-El," Lex burst out into genuine laughter, shoulders shaking wildly. "What could make you possibly believe that I would ever desire forgiveness from you?"
Slipping smoothly to his feet, Lex stood above the alien, who only watched as he drew nearer.
"The only reason we're here is because a relationship like ours apparently could not even by triumphed by the everlasting hands of death," Lex decided, voice growing more decisive with every step he took.
A few inches away from the alien he stopped, proudly knowing that with each word, he condemned himself to a very monotonous eternity. Yet, rather one as such than one with dignity compromised, pride severed, and honesty lost to the winds in favor of the deceitful memories of wishes passed.
Leaning down towards the creature, Lex waited until he could feel the pitiful drum of hope alight in the air.
"We're nothing more than ghosts, Kal-El. What could possibly make you think that now is the time for our happy ending?"