What happened after Clark escaped from the phantom zone and defeated Zod? Will Lex be able to pick up the pieces of his shattered life? How are the people around them going to react? This is a rewrite of a story I wrote last year. Warnings: AU, slash, mentions of child abuse, and rape, violence, and foul language. Contains Lex/Clark and Lionel/Lex (non-con) relationships. Spoilers for Zod.

"Are you alright?
Is there something been bothering you?
Are you alright?
I wish you'd give me a little clue.
Are you alright?
Is there something you wanna say?
Are you alright?
Just tell me that you're okay.
Are you alright?
'Cause you took off without a word.
Are you alright?
You flew away like a little bird.
Are you alright?
Is there anything I can do?
Are you alright?
'Cause I need to hear from you," Lucinda Williams

In The Wake Chapter One:

Clarks POV:

Zod, or at least his sprit, flew out of his frail, thin body with a pained, agony-riddled scream, and then Lex fell to the ground. He collapsed, barely breathing, his heart beating so fast I thought it was going to explode. I wanted to just leave him lying in the dirt of the cornfield, run away as fast as I could, make myself useful somewhere, anywhere else. My first thoughts should have been for all of the people who needed my help: Mom, Lana, Chloe, and even Lois, but I wasn't thinking about them. My only concern was, as always, for Lex, especially now as he lay there helpless, stripped of all that power.

Being like me for a few hours, nearly killed my dad and this had been a million times worse. I should just leave him here, I told myself. Stupid jerk deserves it. "I hate you," I whispered, but it was a lie. I could stand in front of the mirror all day and all night, telling myself, I hate Lex Luthor, until it sounds convincing, but that doesn't make it true. I don't hate Lex. Can't even stay mad at him for more than a few weeks. Sure, we argue, bicker, sometimes we get so completely pissed off that I want to hurt him, and we don't speak so long it feels like forever, but eventually I go back to the mansion, where we have hot, passionate, angry sex, and make up, but nothing ever really changed between us.

I kneeled down beside his unconscious body, checked his pulse, listened to him breathing, x-rayed his body for fractures or internal injuries, and then I held him in my arms, waiting for his heart to relax, praying that Zod didn't do too much permanent damage. Lex regained consciousness slowly, like he was coming out of a deep, dreamy sleep. He looked up at me, blinked, and rubbed his eyes as if he couldn't believe I was really there.

"Clark?" he asked, his whole body quivering with the strain of having spent days under the pressure of a Kryptonian occupant.

"It's okay; I'm here," I explained, gently reaching out to touch his face. Lex didn't move, or say anything for a long time. The air around us smelled like burnt corn and sweat, and looking into his eyes, I couldn't help but wonder how much, if anything, he remembered from the past few days.

"I screwed up pretty badly this time, didn't I?" he asked, very weak, even his voice shook. "What did I do?" I wrapped Lex's arm around my neck and shoulder, helped him up, and supported him, because his strength seemed to have disappeared completely. "Oh God, Lana. Is she alright?" Suddenly the severity of the situation hit him fully. "What did I do?" Lex asked again, and I didn't think I could answer him. I knew Lex well enough to know that hearing this news right then, could be enough to push him over the edge, maybe even kill him.

"Come on, let's get you back into town. We'll go to the mansion and I can call a doctor, or something."

"And what are we going to tell them? Hey, Toby, I was just possessed by the spirit of an alien criminal mastermind, Hell-bent on destroying civilization as we know it?" Lex snapped. "Clark, tell me what I did. Please, just tell me."

"If I take you to a hospital, everybody's gonna be so busy taking care of all the other injured people, they won't care what you tell them. You're a human. Your body wasn't made to be that—his strength, and power, and, everything…it puts a lot of stress on your heart, and your body. You could still di—I think we shout go to the med center." I started to lift him up, planning to carry his body and run the five miles, but Lex pushed me aside. He took a few small, stumbling steps, and then fell down, hard, flat on his face.

"God Damnit!" he shouted, starting to push himself up. "Don't help me! I can do this myself, damn—Clark, wha—what, I—just, what have I done?" Lex looked all around him." Where the Hell are we?"

"It's a long, long walk back to the mansion. You're going to hurt, or kill yourself. I can carry you, and we'll be—I'll take you home, and we'll be there in less than a minute. You know that, and you need to relax."

"Clark? Tell me what I did?" he asked, stumbling back towards my side, and falling into my arms.

"How much do you remember from the last couple of days?" I asked, scooping him up, and holding him, as close as I possibly could.

"Fine injected me with the virus, and suddenly I couldn't get hurt—well I did get hurt, but it healed itself…I had all of your abilities. I remember standing in a field with Lana and then I was at your barn, and then…nothing."

"Let's get you out of here. I'll call Toby when we get home," I whispered. Lex's lips parted slightly, and he made a very soft, weak sounding, grunting noise.

"What have I done?" he whispered again when I stopped in the middle of Main Street, because he was hyperventilating again. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he continued repeating the words over and over, even as I sped through the front door, down the hall, and laid him on a couch in the study.

"It was not your fault, Lex. Fine—Brainiac—he tricked you. He lied. Fine lied to me too, and convinced me to take him to the Fortress. He almost destroyed it, because he convinced me that my biological father was a monster," I explained, and left his side, walking across the room to grab a few things.

"Yeah well, I bet you never did anything this bad," he croaked. "What are you do—wha—what's that in your hand?"

"Drink this," I ordered, twisting the top off a bottle of Ty Nant, and handing it to him. "Your heart is racing like crazy. I—I think it's really bad. Is there somebody I should call to come and help us?" Lex shook his head.

"I'm so cold. Is it cold? I can't get warm. Oh, God, what have I done? Why do I feel so cold?" I thought for sure he was in shock. I'd read about this kind of stuff, feeling cold, paranoia, fear, etc.

"Lex it's really bad. I mean, you're pretty bad off. I'm gonna call Toby. You have to let me get you a doctor." I put my hand on his chest, gently. "Please let me help you." He sighed, still repeating the same things over and over, like a mantra. Then it got quiet, his voice stopped, and I knew something wasn't right. I leaned in closer to make sure he was still breathing, but luckily he had only fallen asleep.

"Thank you, Clark," a loud, strong voice boomed from behind me. "I can handle things from here," Lionel said as he moved gracefully towards Lex's unconscious body. "Thank you for taking care of him, for saving my son, and bringing him home…what's left of him anyway."

"I think he's," I paused, searching for the right words, but they wouldn't come to me. "I think he's in shock." I watched as Lionel bent over Lex, touching him. I wanted to scream, push him away, yell, and hurt him, but knew there was no use. I couldn't do anything to hurt Lionel, or he'd never let me back in the house. I'd never see Lex again, and then he'd have free range to hurt him all the time.

"I can take care of him now," he said, and I knew instantly that I couldn't leave the two of them alone together. I couldn't even imagine what Lionel might do to Lex when he was so helpless, and I didn't want to know.

"I really think he would want me to stay," I tried to tell him, swiftly stepping in front of the couch, placing my body between the two of them, like a gigantic shield of some kind.

"I'll give you a call when Lex comes to. I'm sure there are people who need you more than he does right now: Martha, Miss. Sullivan, Miss. Lang, Miss Lane. I can take care of my own son." I didn't want to leave. I knew I shouldn't, couldn't, but Lionel was right. There were lots of people who needed me, and even if they didn't, Lionel would have fed me a Kryptonite milkshake to get me out of the room. So I leaned over Lex and whispered in his ear.

"If you need anything, you know how to get my attention, and I'll here in five seconds. Just call me. It's okay. I love you. I'm gonna protect and take care of you, I promise." Then I kissed his forehead, and Lionel was giving me a death glare so I left.

XX

Lex's POV:

"Lex," a voice dragged me out of my—well I'm not really sure where I was, but it was definitely better than where I woke up. When I opened my eyes, I realized that I was still laying on the couch, with my father looming over me. He was the last person I wanted to see, especially then. A lecture on how I'm the world's biggest screw up…yeah, that's exactly what I want, I thought. I felt like crap, and knew I definitely should have taken Clark up on the whole doctor thing. My head hurt, my heart felt like it was about to explode, I thought I was going to vomit, but the worst thing was that I couldn't really move. "Ohm Lex, you look ill. I certainly hope you are feeling alright." Lionel placed his hand on the inside of my thigh, his thumb roaming towards a dangerous region. Now I know I'm gonna throw up. I didn't think it was possible, but my heart started bating even faster. I felt like the most pathetic creature on the planet, except for my father.

"Dad, please," I begged. "What do you want?" He dragged a chair across the room, and sat down directly beside me, his hand barely moving at all. Then it slid up to the side of my face, and he smacked me.

"I know I taught you better than this," he sneered.

"I wouldn't be bringing up my—behavioral problems if I were you, Dad. I am who am because I learned it from you!" My father squeezed my jaw between his thumb and forefinger, bone-crunchingly tight. Then he let go, disgusted, and wiped his hand on a black, silk handkerchief.

"Now, now, let's not say anything we're going to regret. I think you and I have an item or two, a few problems, we need to discuss, no? So, where should we start?" Dad's hand slid down my neck, pulling my shirt forward, and popping the buttons one by one.

"Please, don't, stop," I begged, my voice had this weak, pathetic tone. It sounded even worse than I had been expected. It sounded even worse than I thought possible.

"Now, Lex, what exactly is the problem here, hmm?" he asked, calmly, in a mater-o-fact, normal voice, like I was the crazy person in the room.

"Whu-whu-whu—what did you…whu—wu-want to t-t-t-ta-tah-alk a-bou-bout?" Stop stuttering. That is weakness. Why are you being so weak? Why are you letting him see you like this? My brain was screaming at me. Do something! Stop him!

"I think this little, episode, has shown us that you are, shall we say, unqualified—for your current position at my company." Be strong Lex. Do whatever he wants. Agree to anything if it gets Lionel out of the room before he does something worse than take your shirt off, but stay strong. Show him that he can't do this to you anymore, I thought. You're a big boy now, protect yourself.

"And if I will agree to this, change of staff, then what?" I asked, forcing my body up into a sitting position. The room started to spin a million miles an hour, and my stomach lurched forward. I managed to brush his hand off of my body, but felt like I was about to lose consciousness again, and had to close my eyes.

"I was thinking you might want—need—some time to recover, from your recent…activities." His hand returned, moving back down, resting uncomfortably, less than an inch below the zipper of my slacks. My head was spinning so fast I barely had the energy to reach to try and push it off again. Then I threw up, and everything faded to black.

XX

The next thing I knew I heard a high-pitched sound, like someone blowing air through their lips, an animal maybe, but it seemed to be coming from outside, somewhere, far off in the distance.

"Lex," somebody else said, dragging me out of the darkness. This time the voice was kind, gentle, concerned. Clark's voice. He was softly dabbing my face and head with something soft and wet and warm, a clean rag, or a washcloth. The coldness from before had not left me, but I now felt like something heavy, scratchy, but soft had been wrapped around me, like a cocoon, or a swaddling blanket. I wasn't sure but I thought I had been moved.

"Can you go to my closet and grab a shirt, Clark? Something warm, a sweater maybe, please? I—uh—oomph, where exactly am I? This doesn't feel like my—is that hay I smell?" Finally I opened my eyes, and discovered that Clark had brought me to his loft. If I thought I had the strength I probably would have started screaming at him. What were you thinking? You can't just drag someone to your barn while they're unconscious. Not that I minded being taken away from my father's—control—but I couldn't (can't) stand for important decisions about my life to be made without my consent.

Clark handed me a bight blue t-shirt that looked like one of his, only smaller. "I guess you didn't have time to grab any of my stuff when we left, huh? Well I guess it's better than nothing—" I stopped cold as my hand went to scratch my leg, only to discover that I was wearing sweatpants, also not mine. I knew immediately what all of this meant. Clark must have found me naked, somewhere in the mansion. I squeezed my eyes shut, praying that if I couldn't see anything then I would be able to make it go away, pretending it wasn't happening

"Last year—before all of this stuff—you told me about what your dad used to do. Guess it's true what you said; he liked taking advantage of vulnerability, weakness. It—I can protect you now, keep him from hurting you. When I saw you lying there, bleeding, passed out, hurt, scared—exposed. I just…I didn't think. I couldn't think. So I just grabbed you and ran." Slowly I started sitting up, my head still spinning, though not as much. On a whim, I pulled the waistband of the sweatpants forward, just to see if Lionel had at least left me with a shred of dignity. Naturally, he didn't; even my underpants were not mine.

"Where was I when you found me?" I asked, desperately afraid of what I already knew was coming. If Lionel had left me somewhere completely naked, it wasn't because he'd been too lazy to clean up hi mess. He would be coming back, soon, so he could…

"I don't know. I mean, I didn't recognize it. You didn't switch bedrooms again, did you?" he asked, and I shook my head. "The colors were all wrong, too. I knew that one. The creamy white sheets made you look sort of pale."

"Yeah, those aren't mine. It was da—Lionel's room, and if he left me lying in there, it means he's planning on coming back. This is the first place my father will come looking for me."

"Then I'll hide you somewhere else until he leaves. Take you up to the Fortress if I've gotta." Clark placed a gentle, reassuring hand on my shoulder, and it actually felt sort of nice. For the first time in years, I allowed myself to relax, let go. I fell into Clark's arms, and he wrapped himself around me, gently. I've never been sure why but I wasn't afraid of Clark. Every man on the planet scared me half to death, but not him. I knew then that he really was different.

"Clark, just tell me what I did. How bad did I screw up?" I asked, but he sighed, and turned away, not really responding. "You can't keep avoiding the subject forever. Please, what did I do?"

"You didn't do anything. Fine—Brainiac—whoever injected you with a virus so he could allow Zod's spirit to take over the world using your body like a Halloween costume. And everything he did can be fixed. This wasn't your fault."

"I don't believe you. Thanks for saying that, Clark, it means a lot, but it doesn't make your right. You're still wrong. I should go, my father's probably gonna want to stick a needle in my eye, or set me on fire or—you know."

"You can stay here, in the house. Mom knows your out here and she says you can stay too, as long as you want, need, forever if that's what I takes to keep you safe, make you happy."

"Boys," Mrs. Kent's voice called from the door, downstairs. "Dinner is ready." I stood up slowly, praying that I wouldn't pass out or throw up again Clark walked beside me, his arm held out to help support me. Going down the stairs was easier than if I had been going up, but not by much. In a day or two, maybe more, I'll be in control of my body again, and everything will be okay, I thought.

"Lex, sweetheart, are you starting to feel any better?" she asked, touching the side of my face softly. I could see how much she was worried about me, which seemed weird, since it's my fault her husband died and every other bad thing that's ever happened to her family. Martha's always liked me, Clark used to claim, but I could never be sure about anybody.

"How much did Clark tell you?" I asked, my voice quivering slightly, but for some reason I didn't mind, not since there were only the two of them around. "I mean if you're willing to let me stay here, what did he say?"

"Clark didn't have to tell me anything. I figured it out myself, all those times I saw you and your fa—Lionel. I'm a mother; I couldn't miss the way he looked at you, and the way you reacted to him. I want you to know that this is a safe place. Nobody is going to hurt you," she promised, giving me a sweet, gentle hug, the kind my mom used to give me.

"Thanks," I whispered. As the three of us walked into the house and my new life, a million thoughts were racing through my mind. Is any of this real? Can things finally be going my way? Is that even possible? Safe, what does that even mean?