AN: Hey everybody! So I was going through my WIP file on the hope I might be able to update or even finish a number of the WIPs I still have floating around (I make zero promises) when I found this chapter already like 90% done. So I finished it, yay! One chapter left.


This past week and a half had been absolute hell. Lex certainly didn't remember having made a wish on a monkey's paw, but that was the best explanation he could think of for what was happening. Clark had stopped by every day, usually only for an hour or two, but on Saturday he had stayed for practically the whole day. The two of them did things like they used to, watching movies and playing pool and talking about everything and somehow nothing at all. And every day, Clark lied to him. It wasn't as bad as it had been, granted, as Clark was no longer trying to deny the truth of things they both knew. But, aside for that one rushed mention of blue kryptonite, Clark had yet to drop a single piece of information that Lex didn't already have, and all of Lex's gentle nudges – not pushing – in that direction were either met with lies or just blatantly ignored. Still, Lex probably could have handled that for a good while longer – his whole life had been an exercise in dealing with constant low-level frustration and he liked to think he had gotten pretty good at dealing with it – if it weren't for what happened next.

Yesterday, the woman that Lex had hired had betrayed him and tried to kill him. Yes, he may not have been entirely truthful about the actual work his companies were doing, but even if they had been factories with no other purpose but to slaughter puppies, that wouldn't have made Green Arrow's terrorist action masquerading as vigilantism any less illegal and wrong. And yes, maybe he had pulled a gun on her first, but he hadn't shot her and hadn't been planning on shooting her until the fight broke out (okay, maybe he had been planning on shooting her, but as soon as he had pulled the gun out, his mind had been filled with Clark's disapproving face which made him hesitate for long enough for Green Arrow to break into the room, which made his original intentions a moot point anyway). Then Clark comes storming in today hurtling accusations about the same damn companies like they haven't been on their way to becoming friends again.

Lex faced Clark down from across his desk. When Clark had first walked in, Lex had stood up to greet his friend, but when he had seen Clark's livid countenance, Lex had opted to stay behind the desk instead, to cling to the small illusion of power and control it afforded him. "What the hell do you want from me?" Lex demanded. Because he'd love to be able to be Clark's friend, and he can handle being Clark's enemy, but he couldn't take any more of this up and down, back and forth shit.

"I want you to be honest and tell me the truth for once!" Clark snaps, which was just rich. Aside from the blatant hypocrisy, Clark hadn't asked a single question since he had walked in the door. Not a single request for clarification or entreaty for Lex's side of the story, or even a 'Hey Lex, I heard you got stabbed, are you doing okay?' (There was no way the timing of this was a coincidence, Clark had to be here because he, or possibly Chloe, was in contact with Green Arrow). How the fuck was Lex supposed to tell the truth if Clark never gave him a chance to?

"Fine, you want the truth? The truth is I vehemently, passionately, loathe you right now." That was as much truth as Clark had ever given Lex when he had asked for it and, from the way Clark took a half step back with wide hurt eyes, just as painful.

"But you said…" Clark began hesitantly.

"I've said a lot of things," Lex interrupted dismissively, angry enough right now that he didn't even care that Clark looked like a kicked and wounded puppy. "What I'm saying right now is I can't stand one more second of you coming into my house and throwing around self-righteous accusations about me and my company when you don't have a clue what you're talking about."

"Because you won't tell me anything!"

Lex raised an eyebrow at Clark and schooled his expression to a mix of amusement and condescension. "Do you really want to get into a game of pot and kettle with me right now?"

"You started it," Clark snapped back petulantly, for all the world like he was still some moody high school kid.

"Fucking grow up, Clark; you're not a teenager anymore," Lex told him. "Besides, you're the one who started it, six years ago when you saved my life and then lied to my face about it. The first words you ever said to me were a lie, and you haven't stopped since."

"You kept sticking your nose where it didn't belong. We were friends Lex, but that didn't entitle you to all my secrets."

"No, but it does entitle me to some goddamn consideration! How was I supposed to know when I was 'sticking my nose where it didn't belong' when you and your family kept changing the goalposts on me?"

"Well, here's a tip: Building an entire room dedicated to uncovering someone else's secrets might be crossing a line."

"That room was not about you!"

"Then why was there a giant picture of me in there? And why did you keep it a secret from me?"

"God, I can't even talk to you. So now you're allowed to keep all the secrets you want from me, but I can't have even one private thing for myself? And I have to be completely and totally honest with you about everything, but you can just indiscriminately lie to me whenever you feel like it? And on top of all that you have the audacity to expect me to just be here to grant every little favor you might ask of me."

"I was trying to be nice! Look, you gave me the truck and I had to give it back, right? And then you kept trying to give me things and half the time Dad made me give them back. I'm not stupid Lex; I saw how much it hurt your feelings every time I returned something, and how much it meant every time you actually got to help us out somehow. I didn't always know where my parents were going to draw the line, but I knew better than you did. So I figured that maybe if I went to you with things you could do first, and show you how to help, then maybe you would stop trying to give me things that I couldn't keep."

Lex shot Clark a disbelieving look. "That's not what you were thinking each time you asked me for something."

"No, it's not. I just… You were always willing to help people when they really needed it, like Jeff and Amy or Earl, but you never did things for anyone just to be nice. Except for me. Anything I asked you for you would make happen, and even when I knew it had to have taken a lot of effort, you just pretended like it was no big deal. And that made me feel special. Maybe after a while I started to ask you for things because it made me feel good, it let me know you cared about me. That's probably why I, uh, didn't take it very well when you started to say no. And why, when you said I could stay the night here last week I was so…" Clark sank back down onto the couch and leaned forward, cradling his head in his hands. "Well, I guess it doesn't matter anyway."

Lex looked at Clark, worn and tired and the absolute picture of perfect misery, and Lex had never felt so defeated. This was Clark, the one person in the world Lex had chosen of his own volition to care for, to care about, and to protect and who had somehow, inexplicably and without reservation, chosen Lex back. The sight of him like that because of something Lex had done, tugged at something deeply rooted in Lex. And, for the first time in a very, very long time, Lex found himself speaking without thinking first. "Clark, you want to know the truth?"

"I think I've heard enough about how I'm a horrible person who completely ruined your life for one night, thanks," Clark said mulishly, but he looked back up at Lex anyway.

"Clark. You didn't completely ruin my life; at least some of the credit deserves to go to my father," Lex joked weakly. An expression flitted across Clark's face that made Lex think that Clark was actually going to defend Lionel, but the moment passed without a word of protest from Clark, for which Lex was grateful. He definitely wanted to know more about what the hell was going on between Clark and Lionel, but now was hardly the time to open that can of worms.

"We've both been horrible to each other at times," Lex acknowledged. "And I could hate you." There were times when it seemed like it would be the easiest thing in the world to hate Clark, easier than breathing. But, at the same time, hating Clark would always be the hardest thing he'd ever done, because…

"But," Lex continued, "no matter what you did to me I could never hate you as much as I love you." Lex sank back down into his chair – his knees wouldn't have dared to give out on him without his say-so, or possibly severe head injury, but no point in risking it. Because what hung in the air between them was the truth. Not a truth, not one of the petty little secrets that Lex had handed out to ex-girlfriends and lovers like candy, because nothing builds confidence in a relationship more than your significant other thinking you've taken them into yours, but the truth. The one truth, for all his denial and all his pushing and shoving of it into the back corners and far recesses of his mind, that made up the very core of Lex's being and had since the day he had been reborn with the taste of river water and salvation in his mouth.

"Like a brother," said Clark, looking stricken. "You love me like a brother."

Lex closed his eyes as he leaned back a bit and barked out a sharp laugh. "No Clark, not like a brother."

The room fell silent after that, which wasn't in the least surprising. Lex had pushed, so of course Clark had run away. Same song, second verse. Well, more like fourth or fifth verse by now, but the point remained. Lex just kept running into the same brick wall, each time somehow hoping for a different result. "Maybe I really am crazy."

"You are not crazy."

Lex's eyes snapped opened. Somehow, probably because it was precisely the opposite of what Lex expected and wanted, Clark was still there. And now that Clark was through the first edges of his surprise, he looked like he wanted to talk. Normally an impulse to be applauded when it came to relationship issues, or at least so Lex had heard tell, but Lex knew Clark well enough to realize that 'talking' actually meant he expected Lex to sit quietly and let Clark lecture at him. But it seemed that after all these years of putting up with, for varying definitions of the term, Clark's lectures, Lex had finally found his line in the sand.

"Detroit." Of course, Clark had never respected any of Lex's lines in the sand before, so Lex was going to have to get a bit creative (and a lot desperate).

"What?" said Clark, having been effectively knocked off-balance by Lex's non-sequitur.

"Detroit. It's a city in Michigan, I'm sure you've heard of it."

"Of course I've heard of it, I just don't understand what it has to do with anything."

"In Detroit, there is a diner called Annie's, which recently hired a young woman going by 'Linda.'" Lex explained, as he reached into his desk drawer to pull the picture out of a file his people had brought the previous day, not too long before the aforementioned stabbing incident. He slid the photo across the desk toward Clark. "You, I believe, know her by a different name."

Clark got up from the couch and crossed over, his expression of confusion turning into one of wonder as he realized what, or rather who, the picture was of. "You found Kara for me?"

Trust Clark to be that self-centered. "I found Kara because, despite what anyone else may have to say on the matter, I know she saved my life. And when she disappeared without warning or explanation, I was concerned something might have happened to her." Then, deciding that at this point he may as well go for broke, Lex added, "I also did it because prior to two weeks ago she seemed like the candidate most likely to being willing to give me the information I need and help me prepare for what's coming. I'm telling you where she is now, because it seems like the most expedient way to get you to leave."

"Leave?" Clark sputtered. "Lex you can't say something like that and then just expect me to leave."

"To the contrary, this is still my house Clark, I can expect you to leave whenever I want," Lex spat out, and Clark looked stricken once again. Apparently he had taken the 'my house is your house' comment to heart. "But, you know what, fine, you never listen to me anyway. Sit down Clark, let's talk. Kara's only been lost, in an unfamiliar city, surrounded by strangers, with amnesia for two month now. I'm sure she can wait a bit longer while you get over your heterosexual panic."

"That isn't… I'm not…" Clark flailed, which Lex took to mean that he wasn't blatantly homophobic. Not that it mattered anymore; Lex had pushed and it was only a matter of time before everything fell to pieces now. "Fine, I'll go. But this conversation isn't over." Though not a matter of a very short time, it appeared.

"Of course it isn't." Lex supposed it was too much to hope for that Clark would be able to just let a confession of that magnitude go. And good Lord, when had Lex started hoping for things again?

Clark, despite his previous statement, showed no signs of leaving. Instead he stood there fidgeting, rather like he was planning on asking Lex for a favor. Possibly for some way to get to Detroit, which was not an unreasonable request under the circumstances, but if nothing else, Lex had learned a thing or two about setting a bad precedent with Clark, and so Lex would have to deny Clark any request he made, merely on principle. Well then, might as well get it over with. "What do you want, Clark?"

"No, it's just… one good turn deserves another, right?"

"And an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind," Lex shot back. The devil can cite Scripture also came to mind, but not even Lex knew which one of them he was talking about anymore. Lex stood up and walked over to the bar to pour himself a drink. Maybe if he was very lucky, the alcohol poisoning would get to him before Clark came back to finish their 'conversation.' "You don't owe me anything."

"I know that. Feelings don't work on quid pro quo, or at least they shouldn't." God, the good turn Clark was talking about was Lex's declaration? Lex threw back his glass of scotch like a shot and quickly poured himself another one. That was… There was nothing Lex wanted less from Clark than his obligation, save perhaps his pity. "I'm just saying that you did something nice for me even if you didn't mean to, and you told me the truth when you didn't have to. And I appreciate that."

Gratitude from Clark Kent. Lex bit back a hysterical laugh; he'd already lost his composure enough for one week, thank you. "You're welcome. Now leave; there's nothing I need from you." Wanted, yes. Wanted with a desperation that no one else could have possibly felt before, because, God, how could anyone else live like this? But Lex Luthor didn't need anything from anyone. It was probably the only worthwhile lesson Lionel had ever taught him.

"Okay, I promise I'm going now. But could you just look at me? Just for a second?" Clark asked. Lex tossed his third glass of scotch back as quickly as he had the first two. Maybe by the fifth one he'd be able to actually savor the drink.

"Please, Lex." Clark's voice was very soft and uncertain almost, and Lex felt something inside him, something that had already broken a long time ago, shatter into a million pieces. He turned around and met Clark's eyes.

Then, before Lex could look away, or even blink, Clark was quite suddenly and simply gone.