Part One.

It was odd, Clark thought, how eager people were to pretend that things were fine when they were so very obviously anything but.

Pete was all hearty backslaps whenever he saw Clark and wary glances when he thought Clark wasn't looking. Lana looked at him with big, sad eyes, completely unable to understand why he was so distant. And his parents were still walking on eggshells around him, like if they said the wrong thing he'd leave again.

Which was closer to the truth than he was willing to admit, but it was all the tip-toeing that was really getting to him. He'd much rather a good shouting match to clear the air, and he thought his Dad felt the same way, but he was pretty sure his mom couldn't take it, so he nodded and smiled and went along with their fiction that everything was okay.

Chloe was the only one who wasn't careful around him. When she'd found out that he was thinking about leaving again, she'd smacked him a good one on the back of the head, and he'd let himself be soothed. This was where he was supposed to be. Metropolis would wait till he'd graduated. For now, Smallville was his home.

But he did miss Metropolis. So, on clear nights like this, he'd climb the old windmill and sit there for hours, looking at the lights of the city in the distance. He could be there in just a couple minutes if he really put the burn on, but… No. It didn't feel quite right. He'd rather sit here and watch, instead.

Off to one side, he could hear the roar of a crowd, and he knew that the Crows had just scored a touchdown. The homecoming game, he thought. He'd never been. He'd been a bit tied up his first year, and his second he'd taken Chloe out to dinner in Metropolis because he'd wanted to stay away from any natural disasters involving Lana that would require rescuing. Chloe had had enough of that at their Spring Formal.

Chloe, he thought with a smile. Chloe, his best friend. The only girl he'd ever thought he might really love. The only person he'd ever told the secret of his origins. She'd been stunned, he remembered. And maybe a little afraid. But then she'd kissed him, and he'd known that things were okay.

They'd just fallen out of love, he supposed. Even before the trouble he'd had with Jor-El that had led to his eventual breakdown. For once he hadn't let her down. They'd drifted as a couple, and when she finally ended things between them, it was just a mercy killing. They were still closer than close, but there was no kissing between them, no romance. It was better this way. He hoped she was having a good time at the game, and that she would have a good time at the dance later. He'd hear about it tomorrow, he was sure.

Out of habit, he tuned up his hearing and started listening in "sweeps" across the town. Sometimes, if he checked often enough, he could stop mutant killings before they happened. It was worth a try, anyway.

Nothing over most of Smallville, save for the soft mooing of cows and the noise from the football game. But there, a couple miles away, in a cornfield- soft, panicked breathing, little whimpers of pain, a breathy, "Help me." The voice was male, and sounded young.

Scarecrow.

Clark was down the ladder and in the field in just a breath, the force of his anger giving him extra speed. The same damn cross he'd been put on, Clark thought furiously. He'd torn it down once Chloe had gotten him free, but apparently they built it up again. Whitney Fordman had put a stop to the practice after Lana had found out what he'd done to Clark and put the fear of God into him, but Whitney was gone and apparently the new quarterback had thought it would be a good idea to start doing it again.

They'd have a lesson in manners, and soon. At the moment, though, Clark had to get the kid off the cross.

"H-help me," the kid stuttered through cold lips. "Please."

"Easy, I'm gonna get you down," Clark said. "Just hold on."

The kid nodded, his mouth pressed into a tight line. He was a brave one, Clark thought with admiration. Clark well remembered the pain and chill, and even with kryptonite against his skin he'd been much stronger than this kid, who looked like a good strong wind could blow him over.

Clark undid the knots with quick fingers, and caught the kid as he started to slide to the ground. "Easy," he said again, holding him up with one arm around his waist. Jesus, the kid was thin. "I've got you."

"Th-thanks," the kid said, shivering. "Can you hand me my clothes? They're over there." He pointed at a small pile of cloth, and Clark made sure that he was able to stand on his own before retrieving them.

He needed Clark's help to get dressed, but Clark didn't mind. Clark had healed up as soon as the kryptonite had left his skin, but this kid had been hanging by his arms for the last three hours or so, and his muscles were so stiff he could barely move. Clark was actually impressed that he was able to move at all, considering.

"I'm sorry," the kid said. He hadn't looked Clark in the eye once, just kept his head ducked down as Clark swiftly did up the buttons of his shirt. Embarrassed, Clark guessed.

"Don't be," Clark said. "Seriously. It's the dicks that did this to you who have reason to be sorry."

"Really?" the kid said. His chin lifted a little, like he was actually considering looking away from his toes.

"Really," Clark said. "And they will be. Trust me."

The kid looked up at that, startled alarm in his surprisingly blue eyes. The kid had ginger-gold eyelashes, Clark noticed absently. And freckles.

"Oh, don't do it because of me, please," he said, his eyes wide. "I don't want to cause trouble."

"You're not," Clark said. "They need a lesson in manners."

"They'll still blame me."

Stubborn. "No, they'll blame me," Clark said, and then grinned his Kal smile, all wide and feral and overlong canines. "And when I'm finished with them, they'll slit their own wrists before stringing someone else up again."

"Oh," the kid said. He looked a little afraid. Clark sighed.

"I was the scarecrow my freshman year," he explained. "It was why I came here, to check and make sure they hadn't done it to someone else." Well, he would have if he hadn't been able to hear the kid from miles away, anyway.

"Oh!" The kid looked a lot less afraid. Good. "So they stopped, after you?"

Clark smiled. "The quarterback who did it, his girlfriend was friends with me. That's why he did it, 'cause he was jealous. When Lana found out, she kicked his ass, and he put a stop to it. He graduated last year, though."

"What grade are you in?" the kid asked. Now that he was dressed and apparently reassured of Clark's lack of psycho tendencies, his nervousness had disappeared, and all that was left in his eyes was a bright, birdlike curiosity. It reminded Clark forcibly of someone, but he couldn't think who.

"Junior," Clark said easily. "What about you? You're new here, aren't you?"

The kid nodded, blushing a little again. "I'm a junior, too," he said. "And yeah, we just moved here."

Ah. That would explain why they'd picked on the kid. Normally they went after freshmen, but a new kid, especially one as delicate-looking as this, would be too tempting to resist. Clark really, really wanted to hurt the new quarterback.

"Well, you have at least one new friend," he said, and put out his hand to shake. "I'm Clark."

"Julian," the kid said, taking it. His hand was thin, with long fingers. An artist's hand. It was swallowed in Clark's much larger palm. There were freckles on his wrist, too, disappearing into the cuff of his rumpled shirt. Clark suspected that he had them all over. Curse of a red-head, he supposed.

"Gonna take you forever to detangle that," he asked, nodding towards the long red strands. "Looks like they messed it up but good."

Julian blushed and wrapped his arms around himself, defensively. "Yeah," he mumbled. "They rubbed it in the dirt and stuff. Said it made me look like a f-fag." Julian stumbled over the words, his blush darkening. He also looked down at his toes again.

"I'll kill them," Clark said, without thinking. Julian looked up again, nervous.

Had that been a growl? Oops.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, you know," Clark said, conversationally. Julian jumped, as if he hadn't expected Clark to notice his fear. God, where was this kid from? Even out here in Smallville teenagers learned to hide their thoughts better. Though Smallville, home of the heartland freaks, was probably not the best example.

"I know," Julian said. "It's just… Well, I haven't been here very long, and I thought I might make new friends, only everyone seems to hate my family and I don't know anyone and then this happened and my brother's going to kill me-"

Clark cut him off with a hand on his shoulder, then turned him to study his face when Julian shut up. He was surprised he hadn't seen it before, honestly. The shoulder-length hair had thrown him, but even so, he looked exactly like a younger version of his brother.

"You're Lex Luthor's brother," he said, surprised. Julian looked at him, a little warily.

"You know Lex?"

"I've met him a couple of times," Clark said evasively. Fucked him a couple times was more like it. Lex had been one of the more interesting times he'd had in Metropolis last summer, and one of the few that wasn't illegal and immoral. "You look just like him."

Julian beamed at him, like that was exactly the right thing to say. Clark was a little blinded by the force of that smile. Wow.

"Didn't expect to get that kind of reaction, but okay," Clark said. Julian's smile turned a little bashful.

"You know how everyone wanted to be a movie star or a fireman or something when they were kids?" Julian said. "I always wanted to grow up just like my brother. He's the best. Took me in when Mom and Dad died."

"He's one of a kind, no doubt about it," Clark said. Then changed the subject. "But he'll be worried, right? And we need to get you the hell out of this cornfield, anyway."

"He doesn't expect me back till after the game," Julian said. He followed Clark anyway. "And I was going to go to the Talon afterwards."

"Then you've got an hour or two of leeway," Clark said. "So, decision time. I can get your brother to pick us up, or I can call my friend Chloe and we can go back to her house to patch you up some before you have to go home. Which will it be?"

"Your friend's house," Julian said without hesitation. "I won't be able to leave the house till I'm thirty if I go home like this."

"Yeah, I know the feeling," Clark said. Even if it didn't really apply to his life anymore, the way things were going with his parents. But Julian didn't need to know about his problems. "Alright, let me call Chloe."

Chloe was more than willing to come and pick them up, and she spent the entire ten-minute drive ranting about "those fucking jockstraps" on the phone with Clark. Clark listened patiently, and when she didn't show any sign of winding down after the first couple of minutes, he beckoned Julian over and bent down so they could both listen to her. Julian bit his lip to muffle his laughter, and Clark found himself watching the movement before he glanced away.

Chloe had a blanket in the trunk of her car, and Clark wrapped it around Julian's shivering frame before wedging himself in the backseat of the car. Julian looked like a little prince in the front seat, mussed hair and tacky lime-green blanket not withstanding, and Clark caught himself smiling at him as he chatted with Chloe. Julian was a whole world of unfinished beauty and a sweet heart, and if Clark wasn't careful he was going to get himself into some real trouble.

He did finally realize who Julian reminded him of. Lex, of course, because of the physical resemblance, but the rest of it- well, he and Chloe were like two peas in a pod. Watching them talk was like watching two long-lost twins reunited, despite the fact they'd never before met and the trying circumstances. If Lex didn't pull Julian out of Smallville High because of this, Clark would bet any amount of money that Chloe had Julian on the Torch staff within the week.

When they got back to Chloe's house Clark followed the two of them inside. Her Dad was in Metropolis all night for a meeting, and Lana was at the game, still, and would be getting ready in the back room of the Talon, so there was no one to see them.

Chloe took charge, as usual, and within minutes she had Julian locked in the bathroom and soaking some of his aches away. Clark waited till he was sure that she had everything in hand, then told her where he was going.

"Julian's going to wonder where you went," she told him.

"I need to tell him," Clark said.

"Is that a good idea?" she asked, her eyebrows raised. "Or were you just bragging when you told me-"

"No, I wasn't," he cut her off. "But I lived here first. He'll just have to get used to me."

"Lex is no one to be played with, Clark," she warned.

"I'm not playing any game, Chlo," Clark said. "I'm just telling him what happened to his little brother."

"Be careful anyway," she said.

"When am I not?" he asked with a dashing grin, and blurred away before she could start a list.

Lex was in his office, working on the transfer paperwork, when Davidson came in, silent as always. "Mr. Luthor, sir, there's a young man here to see you."

Lex would never really get used to being called that. Even five years later, he still had to stop himself from looking around for his Dad.

"Send him in," he said, not looking up from his desk. Five minutes later, a pair of booted footsteps halted in his doorway, and he looked up.

His breath caught in his throat. "Kal," he said. He was wearing baggy jeans, and the shirt was flannel, and he'd apparently forgotten about the existence of styling gel, but it was still unmistakably the beautiful psycho Lex remembered.

"It's Clark actually," he said.

"What are you doing here?"

"I live in Smallville," Clark said, a smile playing around the edges of his mouth. "I hate to break it to you, but I was here first."

"And what are you doing here, in my home?"

Clark's smile disappeared. "Your brother was attacked by a bunch of jocks this afternoon," he said, and continued before Lex could surge out of his seat. "He's fine, just a little sore. It's a local tradition to string up a freshman like a scarecrow the night of the homecoming game. I guess your brother, being the new kid and all, was too much to resist even though he's a junior."

"I'll kill them," Lex gritted out.

"I'll handle it," Clark said.

"By killing them?" Lex asked, one brow arched at him.

"Well, I was gonna say by threatening them, reporting them, and getting them suspended, but…" Clark trailed off and shrugged.

"Not good enough," Lex said. And it wasn't. Not for the fuckers who'd hurt his baby brother. "Besides, since when do you advocate the nonviolent way?"

"People change, Lex," he said.

"I doubt it," Lex said. "What's your game?"

"No game," Clark said. "This is who I really am. I'm just a humble farmer's son. A real salt-of-the-earth type." He smiled, a little tiredly. "You're the last person to talk about change, you know."

"Just what is that supposed to mean?" Trust Kal, whatever his incarnation, to turn things around on him. He was even better at it than Lex.

"You think I'd even play with someone I hadn't checked out, much less spend a week in bed with them? I asked around. Before your father died, you partied harder than I ever did. Took every drug you could find, fucked everyone who came your way." Clark's smile this time had a lot more edge. "And now you're a respectable businessman. Don't talk to me about change."

"You ripped off half the banks in Metropolis," Lex said. "You worked for Morgan fucking Edge. Nobody changes completely."

"Maybe you're right," Clark said. "Because you sure as hell didn't turn me down when I came on to you, and some of the stuff we did… Well, it wasn't very respectable, was it?"

"Get out," Lex said, coldly. "You're not welcome here."

"You can't drive me out of the town, Lex," Clark said. "And believe what you want, but I'm not playing a game. I didn't even realize you'd moved in till Julian told me."

"I don't want you around my brother," Lex said. "Stay the hell away from him."

For the first time in the conversation, Clark looked like he was on the verge of losing his temper. He took a huge step forward, slapped his palms down on the glass top of Lex's desk, and leaned forward till he was right in Lex's face.

"Your brother's like a lamb among the wolves, you fucking idiot," Clark hissed. "I saved his life tonight. If I hadn't come along he would have been up there till tomorrow morning, and he would have frozen to death. You'd think you could at least thank me, instead of being a total asshole just because we fucked a couple of times." He leaned back a little, and Lex was able to breathe again. "It can't be the first time he's stumbled across one of your exes."

Lex was silent, and Clark shook his head in disbelief. "You can't protect him forever," Clark said. "He's a bright one. I'd bet he knows a hell of a lot more than you give him credit for. I get that you're worried about him, but you need to lighten up a little."

"I think tonight is a good sign that I'm completely justified," Lex snapped.

"Oh trust me, it won't happen again," Clark said. He stepped back, spread his arms wide. "After all, I'm the crazy runaway kid. Who knows what I'll do?" He dropped his arms back to his sides. "He'll be safe with me. I can promise that."

"But will he be safe from you?" Lex said. "I doubt it." He shook his head. "Where is he, anyway?"

"At a friend's house. He wanted to clean up before I took him home and he had to face the music."

"So you just left him with some-"

Clark held up a hand, silenced him. "Before you can say something insulting about my best friend," Clark said, "you might as well know that she's the daughter of your plant manager. Oh, and she also spent the summer before last interning at the Daily Planet on your scholarship."

"Chloe Sullivan," Lex said, surprised. "I didn't know you knew her."

Clark nodded. "She and Julian are exactly alike, you know."

Lex had only met Chloe once, for the LutherCorp scholarship interview, but he remembered a bright, sharp-witted, vivacious young woman. She didn't seem the type to befriend young psychos, so it gave Lex a little bit of comfort regarding Clark. A little.

"I know where the Sullivan house is," Lex said. "I'll go pick Julian up."

"I'll bring him," Clark said, then laughed a little when Lex shot him a suspicious look. "Oh, relax. I just think he'll be more comfortable if he doesn't have to listen to you lecture on the drive back."

"I don't lecture," Lex lied.

"Then he won't want to listen to an ominous silence on the way back," Clark said easily. "Come on, I'll get him back safe."

"I don't trust you," Lex warned.

"I didn't expect you to," Clark said. "But he's safer with me than with any bodyguard in the world. You of all people should know that."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Lex said.

"You're lying," Clark said. "You know what I'm able to do. You researched me well enough."

Lex gave up the pretense. "Don't hurt him."

"I'd die first," Clark said, and he sounded so serious that Lex could almost believe him. Almost.

Clark turned to leave, and Lex almost didn't say it. But just as Clark was about to disappear through the door, Lex called him back.

"Clark!" he said. Clark turned, one eyebrow arched quizzically.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks," he said, grudgingly.

"I would have done the same for anyone," Clark said.

"Why?" Lex wasn't sure why he'd asked the question, but it just slipped out.

Clark hesitated, looked like he wasn't going to answer. "I was the scarecrow the freshman year," he said. "My friend didn't find me till dawn. I'd never willingly let anyone else go through that."

He was gone before Lex could reply.