Sorry for the cliffhanger and tense shift but I got tired of writing in present tense.

"Well I don't wanna be president
Superman or Clark Kent
I don't wanna walk round in their shoes
cause I don't know who's side I'm on
I don't know my right from wrong
I don't know where I'm going to
I don't know about you," Fastball

I decided to answer the phone politely because I knew the call was from Lex, and to be perfectly honest I was more afraid of him now—especially because of the bracelet—and the last thing I needed was to piss him off. Still it was 4:00 am and even I need some sleep. Despite my best efforts, my response was less than nice.

"…have any idea what time it is?" The words were cut short s the device took a bite out of my arm—at least that's what it felt like—and Lex cleared his throat. "Sorry," I said, but my voice didn't sound like my own. It seemed pathetic, and weak, and small.

"Wow, didn't think it would work this well over that sort of a distance." Lex sounded sort of happy, but also a tad bit off. His words were slurred. He's drunk, and angry, and beating up on me, to make himself feel better, I thought. I wondered briefly if he was going to kill me, whether or not I should call the guys, and how the Hell things got to be this way.

"Lex, how did this happen?" I asked, ignoring the red flags and alarms going off in my brain. "We were in love; we were happy. What changed?" I braced myself for another jolt, but it never came...not yet.

"Why don't you tell me? I wasn't the one who ended our relationship," Lex snapped. Coming from anyone else those words would have sounded silly, or wussy, but not from him. Maybe that's because it was true.

"We were fighting all the time, lying, and hiding things from each other. We both knew what was coming; but honestly, I figured that if I told you I was leaving, it might motivate you to change."

"And I was so mad I—Clark, Jesus Christ, it's 4:00 in the morning. Why didn't you say something?" he asked, and I could picture him sitting behind that cold, sterile desk, staring out the window, watching the city below him, listening to Vogner, and the cars hustling by. Not that there would be a lot of traffic at that time of day. I was scared of reminding him, but at the same time didn't want to lie to Lex any more than I had to.

"I did, when you first called. That was when you shocked me with the thing," I told him, tentatively. I heard a sound over the phone like a curse word. "It's okay, Lex. I don't really need that much sleep." I was used to these sort or phone calls from him. Back when we were together, whenever we had a fight, Lex would get mad because, he said, I was trying to make him somebody else. Lex said it meant I must not love him very much, if I was trying to change him all the time. I used to tell him we'd both be happier, and that I didn't expect him to change in any major or significant ways.

The truth was that I didn't want him to change. I wanted Lex to be the same person he had been when we met, but he wasn't. We'd scream at each other for a while, tell me "I never want to see you again," and I'd storm off. Later he would call me up, early in the morning, drunk, and tell me how sorry he was. He really was trying to change. Everything was gonna be alright, he always promised, but it never was.

"I probably shouldn't have called," Lex said, now, the way he used to. I didn't know why he was doing it again; I was angry with him, but worried too. "Shouldn't do a lot of things, but I seem to do them anyway."

"I don't mind, Lex, really," I told him, again, but it couldn't possibly sound convincing. "Look—I'm sorry I snapped at you before. I wasn't—I mean—I uh—" Lex interrupted me, mid-sentence.

"It wasn't your fault Clark. It's way too early for me to be calling you. I didn't even need anything. Guess I just—how badly does that thing hurt you?" he asked, and I knew I could lie and tell him it wasn't bad, but found myself unable to do that.

"Remember when you got shot?" I asked, and there was this strange sound, tiny, like maybe his head was moving on his neck, nodding. "About a hundred times worse. Feels like electric bullets or knives or something, shooting up my—Ahh! What did you do that for?" I shouted. This time it was even worse than the last.

"I'm drunk. I think my judgment might be compromised. Probably shouldn't trust somebody, especially somebody who does nothing except lie to me," he explained in that sort of logic you get only when you're drunk.

"How," I gasped, doubled over, pain all through the inside of my stomach, arms, legs, and head. I was fairly sure I was about to throw up, or pass out. "How do you get it to hurt in all these different places?"

"The shocks send signals through your veins and arteries, and my remote has a couple different buttons so that you'll get hit where ever I pick. I've been testing each of them, one by one. Next one sends signals all over, but mainly to the crotch." Lex chuckled.

"I just vomited, in case it helps with your research." I told him and all the sudden the line went dead. Every sound I heard over the next thirty-nine minutes caused me to flinch. Then there was a knock on the door. My legs felt like they were made of Jell-O, but I got up and answered it, naturally, it was Lex. I could feel his hands all over me as I was being led towards the couch.

The next thing I knew, it was bright, and light outside, daytime, but I got a bad feeling, like I might have been out for a whole day. Lex wasn't there anymore, but my answering machines had about a hundred messages, work, Bruce, Ollie, Lois, the Daily planet…not a word from Lex. I had thrown up all over myself, before Lex got there last night, but now I was clean, my hair all spiky, like I had been in the shower and then laid down in sweat pants and a t-shirt—no underpants, but I knew he hadn't raped me. Probably just couldn't find them.

I tried to stand up, my legs still wobbly, but better, and made my way to the kitchen where I heated up some chicken soup, ate it, and waited for Lex to call back. I sat on the couch, half sleeping through two fire alarms, a burglary, and the phone ringing from what sounded like really far away. Woke up again, and this time Lex was standing over me, it was daylight outside again, which meant I'd been out for a really long time.

"Are you okay?" he asked, leaning over to touch my face and arm. "It's been about two and a half days," he tells me, almost managing to sound human. "I wanna take the bracelet off." If I didn't know better, I would have sworn he was crying. "I'm sorry. Back when we were in Smallville, all those times you magically showed up, or disappeared, when you saved me. You could do this stuff back then? Guess you haven't changed much have you?" Lex looked at me, and when I lifted my head to meet his eyes, I could see the man he used to be, the man I fell in love with.

"No, I guess I haven't." The look on Lex's face changed and I could tell he was fighting between feeling disgusted and trying to convince himself I wasn't the disgusting and horrible creature he thought I was. "We don't have to talk about that right now," I said starting to sit up.

"But you are—from a different planet?"

"Actually—I just started working at the daily—and you're not in the mood for jokes right now. Yes, I am. I know you think it's gross, but I haven't changed. I'm just like you; only bullets bounce off my chest. At least they used to. With this thing around my wrist might not happen anymore."

"You're funny," Les said, but doesn't smile or laugh. I saw him reaching into his pocket for the remote, fingering it carefully. 'There were messages on your phone from someone named B, a guy calling himself Wiz Kid, and Mr. Green, all wanting to know if you're okay. Clark, or Superman, or whoever must get around."

"Those are nicknames for, The Green Arrow, Batman, and The Flash. They work with me, at my second job. You know the one where I save people's lives?"

"Pulling cats out of trees, too—if I'm not mistaken," he taunted. "Batman…it's the funniest thing, I could of sworn that sounded like Bruce Wayne's voice. Must have been my imagination."

"Bruce Wayne? Like that dope could even spell Batman, let alone, act like him, and those gadgets…I interviewed him once. Guy's a loser." He smiled. "See, even you know it…not that you're foolish or anything."

"Must have been an idiot not to see what you are," he snapped, as if I there was an actual response to that. "I can't believe I slept with you—God I'm sorry. This is difficult. I wish I could trust you, but I—there were just so many lies. You never once trusted me with any of this. If you had just told me when we met, it wouldn't have even been a problem. I gave you everything and you lied to me!"

And with that a sharp, extraordinarily painful electric charge exploded in my chest. I screamed and the world went pitch black. The last thing I saw was Lex, the same look of utter terror, shame, and helplessness on his face from that day on the bridge.

XX

I woke up two days later, Lex said two days, to a slue of phone messages, both worried as well as angry, and an extraordinary concerned Lex, holding the dismantled bracelet in his hands. For the longest time he just stood there, unable to make eye contact or speak. I knew I was safe now. It would be so easy to hurt him, I thought, but knew I'd never be able to do that. I guess what it came down to was whether or not I was willing to stoop to his level, which I wasn't.

"What made you—why did you take that thing off of me?" I croaked. He just sort of stared at me, instead of trying to answer. "Damnit, Lex, what happened to you?" I screamed, weakly.

"I—just. I'm sorry, but this whole thing sort of hit me in a really weird way. I mean, you were lying to me for—what was it ten years? Fifteen? Maybe more? I'm sorry for the bracelet, but—I just wanted you to know what I felt like."

"I never tried to kill you."

"Technically it was your body that tried to choke the life out of me when Lionel did the transference thing."

"So Lionel stole your body, poisoned me with meteor rock laced water, kidnapped me, ad put a Kryptonite band around my wrist?" I snipped, as h e sat down beside me, gently stroking my cheek with his hand.

"No, that was all me," he admitted, and dropped an arm around my shoulder. "Clark, I'm sorry. Are you okay?" he asked, watching my shoulder and chest in amazement. "You were really banged up, but once I put this thing away it just—everything went back to looking perfect."

"I uh—that's how it always is. I um—the Kryptonite is basically radioactive. It can deform, destroy, and even kill people, and because of the ways in which my body differs from yours, from all people, it's the only thing that can hurt me. I'll be fine…and I'm here for you, but we don't need to talk about me, unless that's what you want. I can answer any questions—or we can just," Lex cut me off, again.

"No, I mean, I wanna talk about me, about my problem, and I would really like it if you would help me, if you think that's still possible. Do you?" Lex asked, almost sounding desperate, although desperate is the one thing I'd never heard from Lex Luthor.

"The one thing you taught me—well I learned a lot of stuff—but the most important thing I learned from you, is that anything is possible. If you're willing to work for it, I think, I know, we can make things work between us." This time I wrapped my arms around him, sitting on my sofa, our bodies so close I could smell his cologne and sweat.

"Why are you willing to go through all of this for me?" he asked, looking up, wide-eyed, and in shock. "Why haven't you…why don't you just give up on me? Everybody else does. No one expects anything from me. You're different. What makes you think I can change?"