Lex was worried about Clark.
He had actually been worried about Clark for a while now; he had just been ignoring it, since worrying about your arch-nemesis is not something one does. Especially when one is on the "villain" side of the equation. But Clark had been acting strange lately, in an unquantifiable way. This was undoubtedly part of the reason for Lex's concern; he hated things that were unquantifiable. But if he was being completely honest, and Lex did believe that complete honesty was a good thing to indulge in on occasion, he was just worried about Clark.
Of course, now that Lex was aware that there might be a problem, he had to do something about it. He didn't entertain the notion that this might be out of a lingering sense of friendship for even a moment. Honesty, like most drugs, should only be taken in moderation. But the fact was, when there was a problem, Luthors didn't just sit around and do nothing, they took action and they solved it. And, family legacy aside, there was a practical reason not to just let this go. If this was a serious issue – which Lex wasn't convinced it was, but he couldn't discount the possibility either – then there were only four different ways this could turn out.
The first and second outcomes were very much two sides of the same coin. Clark might decide to discard one of his two cover identities and take up the other full time. He could become Kent, the bumbling, meek reporter – by far the best option in Lex's estimation – or Superman, the self-important, spandex wearing hero – not favorable at all, but still better than the remaining two possibilities.
The third outcome would have Clark continue to hold up both identities and get increasingly sloppy. While Lex didn't care, well he didn't care all that much at least, whether or not Clark was able to hold down his day job as a reporter, a sloppy Superman would not turn out well for anyone. Increased collateral damage and more by-standers being caught in the cross-fire would undoubtedly be the least of it.
The fourth outcome was the one where Clark went completely and screamingly insane. Lex was firm in his belief that he was only able to even contemplate this possibility due to his years of practice staring into the abyss. It absolutely could not be allowed to happen.
However, not even Lex could possibly solve the problem until he figured out what it was. His first instinct was that it was related to Lois. She was that perfect mixture of completely attainable while appearing completely unattainable that had appealed to Clark so much in Lana. But the more the Lex thought about it, and the more he surreptitiously watched the two of them, the less convinced he was. Lex had been there for Clark all throughout the Lana years after all. Clark might have grown and changed since then, but not so much that Lex wouldn't recognize pining when he saw it.
Next Lex considered the possibility that there was some sort of issue involving Clark's friends. Of course, Clark didn't actually have that many friends, which in someone else might have been worrisome, but Clark hadn't had very many friends back in high school either. Lex had never really understood that, Clark was an inimitably likeable person, but then high school social intricacies were rarely explicable. Regardless, it clearly wasn't a problem of not having enough people for social support. And none of his friends, or Martha when Lex thought to check, seemed to be suffering any personal hardships of their own that might be affecting Clark.
There was always the possibility that Clark was simply over-stretching himself and was stressed out as a result, though Lex didn't like that theory very much. It was inherently difficult to either prove or disprove, which made it somewhat lacking from a scientific point of view. And, aside from that, it just didn't feel right.
Things might have gone on like that indefinitely, with Lex privately and idly speculating on what could be troubling Clark, and Clark slowly deteriorating, if it hadn't been for what happened next. Lex was at a press conference when Kent – always Kent, never Clark – asked a question. Lex looked at him and smirked as he answered. It wasn't an intentional gesture, but Clark's "secret identities" – both of them – were so ridiculous that when confronted with them Lex smirked involuntarily. Clark saw Lex smirking and he relaxed. It was the smallest of things, a slight slump of the shoulders that anyone who wasn't paying attention, or wasn't an expert in body language, would have missed. But Lex was both, and he went instantly from mildly worried to on full alert. Lex's smirk should have made Clark angry or disappointed or, considering he was in his Kent guise at the time, embarrassed, not relaxed. That, more than any of the other vague things that had been bothering Lex, was a sign of Clark's encroaching insanity. Things were far worse than Lex thought.
After that Lex spared no expense to get to the bottom of whatever was going on. Bugs, spies, records going back for years, whatever it took. Soon a pattern began to emerge, both incontrovertible and incomprehensible. Whenever things had gotten to be too much for Clark, usually after a hard day on the job – either of them – he did one of two things. The first, the thing that made sense, was to go visit his mother in Smallville. The second was to come seek out Lex, either as Kent trying to get a story, or as Superman trying to interfere in Lex's plans. And over time it seemed to take less and less to send Clark over that threshold to seeking them out. His measures, whatever they were doing for him, were clearly only stalling tactics at best. Lex was so close to figuring this out, but there was still a piece missing. And time was running out.
The final breakthrough came, as such things do, in a sudden epiphanic rush. Chloe had called Clark, a rare occurrence and the first time it had happened since Lex had begun monitoring the situation. The conversation was innocuous enough, but Clark sounded more confident and… Clark-like than Lex had heard in years. Then, as they were wrapping up, Chloe had apologized for calling so late and Clark had laughed and said, "Don't worry about it. It's nice to have a chance to relax and just be myself."
There was, if Lex was being realistic, no way he could have anticipated this. Lex lied about himself and hid parts that he didn't want people to see every day. He could change masks as easily as some people changed clothes. He couldn't have possibly known the toll pretending to be two people he wasn't, and never being the person he was, would take on Clark. Lex blamed himself anyway.
The solution then was to find a way that Clark could spend more time being himself and less time hiding underneath one of his masks. This was, unfortunately, was easier said than done. Martha was out as an option. Metropolis had just as much hold on Clark as Smallville did on her. He could try telling one of Clark's current friends about his secret, but even if they believed it, Clark would undoubtedly find a way to "prove" he wasn't Superman. He could try to entice one of Clark's old friends, one who already knew, to move to Metropolis, but that plan had too many variables for Lex to feel comfortable with it. He would have to arrange for something that would be compelling enough to guarantee whomever Lex choose would move to Metropolis, but not so compelling that they were suspicious of it. If they found out Lex was behind it, they might refuse to move out of spite. And even if Lex did manage to get one of Clark's former friends to move, he couldn't be sure that the two would strike their friendship back up, or that Clark's friend would provide the anchor point Clark needed.
Lex sighed and resigned himself to the fact that his mind had been made up ever since he had heard Clark's comment to Chloe. If you want something done right…
Since Lex didn't have any way to get in contact with Clark, he decided to call on Kent instead. Lex and Kent didn't have a good relationship exactly, but it was still miles better than the one Lex had with Superman. Not to mention Kent was much easier to get a hold of.
"Clark Kent, Daily Planet."
"Hello Clark," Lex said, trying to infuse some of the warmth and familiarity of their old friendship into his voice. It was surprisingly easy.
"Mr. Luthor?" Kent asked, startled.
"Lex please, Mr. Luthor is my father." He turned his tone light, teasing. "But you already knew that."
"Is there something I can do for you Mr. Luthor?" Lex wasn't pleased by the lack of change in his appellation, but his wasn't particularly surprised either.
"Yes, there is in fact. I want you to come to the penthouse, this evening, seven o'clock sharp," Lex told him.
"Why would I do that?" Kent demanded, suspicion bleeding into his tone.
"Because if you do, I'll give you the schematics to my latest Kryptonite laser." This offer had been completely and carefully calculated out from all sides. If things went well this evening, after all, then Lex wouldn't have any need for Kryptonite lasers in the future. And if they didn't, the latest Kryptonite laser prototype was a complete dud and his scientists had originally been planning on starting from scratch anyways. Clark wouldn't publish anything about the laser in the Planet either. Superman's weakness wasn't so well known that he could afford to be publishing stories about it. And since Kryptonite didn't officially have any effect on humans, the laser wasn't even a weapon technically.
Kent didn't say anything for a minute, turning the offer over in his head, before saying, "Fine, I'll be there."
"Good," Lex said with a smile. "Oh and dress casually, jeans, t-shirt, that sort of thing. No suits of any kind." And then Lex hung up before Kent could get another word out.
Clark – and it was Clark this time, Lex was very nearly sure of it – showed up right on time, and in the clothing Lex had specified.
"I don't know what you're up to Lex, but –" he began before breaking off to sniff the air. "Is that… pizza?"
"Yes," Lex answered. Then he took a deep breath, steeling himself.
Sometimes sacrifices must be made to save the world.
"I want us to be friends again, Clark."
"Oh," Clark said, stunned. A beat, one, two, and then all the tension fled Clark's body. He looked more relaxed than he had in – Jesus, when was the last time Clark had really relaxed? "Okay then."
Clark smiled tentatively and his eyes met Lex's. Those damnable green eyes that Lex had always fallen for, and had always, always, left him broken and regretting.
Sometimes the necessary sacrifices leave you bruised and bloody and wishing you were dead.
"What kind of pizza did you get?" Clark asked.
"Hawaiian, Pepperoni, and Supreme," Lex replied.
"My favorites." The comment had not trace of surprise or gratitude in it, just a statement of fact, as though Clark expected no less.
Sometimes sacrifices go unnoticed and unappreciated, even if they are needful.
They passed the evening away eating junk food, and watching movies, and just talking, about anything and everything. They slipped back into their previous companionship like an old sweater, worn and familiar and welcoming.
After a while Clark turned to Lex and looked at him, really looked at him. Just as Lex was starting to feel uncomfortable, Clark broke his gaze said, "Lex I don't know why you're doing this now or what brought it about or if–"
Lex stiffened. He was giving up everything to help Clark and to save everyone and now Clark was accusing him of having ulterior motives?
Clark, seeing the shift in his friend, stumbled over his words in his haste to correct himself. "Oh, no, that's not what I, I mean I'm not going to, I just…" He closed his eyes and took a few calming breaths before continuing.
"All I wanted to do was thank you for all this." He made a gesture with his arms that attempted to encompass the whole of the evening. "Really Lex, thank you."
Then he smiled, a genuine Clark-smile that could have lit the night sky and filled a hole that Lex had never even admitted was there.
And sometimes sacrifices aren't really sacrifices at all.