Five things Clark Kent never said to Lex Luthor (and one he did)

1. I'm sorry

Clark's face burned with shame as he entered the study for what he hoped wouldn't be the last time. He always had a round of apologies to make whenever he'd had a day on red kryptonite, but he couldn't believe the things he'd said and done to his best friend.

Lex looked up from his desk. No trace of anger showed from the day before, though a bit of hurt lingered. "Clark," he said. "Didn't expect to see you here. After you, ah." He cleared his throat. "Told me to stay the hell away from you."

"Yeah. I came to apologize for that."

Lex came around to the front of his desk, watching Clark with something like amusement in his eyes.

Clark took a deep breath. "I'm really sorry I told you to stay away, and I'm sorry I shoved you, and I'm sorry I laughed about . . . the joke Chloe made."

Thankfully, Lex didn't make Clark wait for forgiveness. "It's okay, Clark. You weren't in your right mind."

"Yeah, but . . ." Clark winced. He hadn't forgotten about what he'd said about the caves, either.

Is this really about a term paper? Lex had asked.

You'd love to know, wouldn't you? Clark had replied.

"Look, Lex . . ." His dad would kill him if he found out he'd told even this much to a Luthor. "I do know some things about the caves. More than I've told you."

"Oh!" Lex's eyebrows raised. "Care to elaborate?"

"Not yet." Clark lowered his head a little. "I'm sorry, Lex, you're my best friend, and I trust you, but . . . there are some things I'm not ready to talk about. I was hoping you could . . . maybe understand that. I'd tell you if I could, and maybe I will someday, but . . . not yet."

Lex nodded slowly. "I can respect that."

"Thanks." Clark felt like an enormous weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "Are we okay?"

Lex gave him a slight smile. "We're okay, Clark."

Clark grinned. "Thanks, Lex."

2. I'm here

Clark wasn't ready to trust again. Lex had saved his life from Jason, and he'd stayed to patch up Clark's wounds—until the last of the kryptonite had left his system and he'd healed. Lex had also brought by what he claimed were all of the files he ever had on Clark. But he'd still investigated Clark behind his back after saying he had stopped. He had still lied.

"Lex, if this friendship was so important, why'd you lie to me for so long?" Clark asked him.

"I don't know, Clark." Lex took a step toward him. "There's a darkness in me that I can't always control. I'm starting to think that's my curse, why every relationship I have ends badly."

Clark had heard Lex talk about that before, but he wasn't impressed. "We all have a dark side, Lex."

"Yeah. But I can feel mine creeping over the corners. Your friendship helps keep it at bay. It reminds me that there are truly good people in the world. I'm not willing to give up on that."

Clark studied Lex's face for a long time. His eyes betrayed that haunted darkness, terror and pain Clark didn't know, and Clark remembered the few things Lex had told him about his brother, and his mother, and his father. Clark couldn't imagine it, and he just didn't know what to say to any of it.

Finally, Lex broke the gaze. "Good night, Clark."

Lex was about to leave the barn when Clark called, "Lex?"

Lex turned back toward him, a flicker of hope in his eyes.

"Look . . ." Clark sighed, remembering the summer he'd spent in Metropolis, and the way his parents and friends had forgiven him. "It's going to take a little time to trust you again, but I want you to know that . . . if you ever want to talk about that darkness, if there's ever anything I can do to help . . . I'm here for you."

Lex's expression softened, his shoulders relaxing. "Thanks, Clark," he said.

3. You thought what?

Clark had never been so appalled by the behavior of someone he called a friend. Lex wasn't guilty of murder, of course, but he'd strung along so many women, treated them so badly. It was almost like he hadn't even known it was wrong.

Clark felt numb and hurt all at the same time as he tried to understand what had happened. "There's a whole side of you that I don't know about, Lex," he said. "What else don't I know about you?"

Lex couldn't look him in the eyes as he responded. "You don't know that every day, I wonder why I keep going. Why I do the things I do. You know, Shannon might have been crazy, but she was right about me. I treated those women terribly, Clark. People died, and I could've stopped it. I see that now."

Clark didn't know what to say. He couldn't reconcile the behavior he'd seen with the words Lex spoke. What came out was, "Well, that's a start."

A short pause, then Lex went on. "You know, there was a moment the other night, when that fire she set was coming towards me. I thought, good. It would save the world a lot of grief. But somehow, the fire went out. And she was lying on the floor. And suddenly, I had a second chance."

Clark still didn't understand everything that had happened, didn't know why Lex had lied to him, couldn't imagine a mindset that would allow for the way he'd acted. He breathed in to tell Lex that he'd trusted Lex's father more than he'd trusted him over the past few days, but he stopped himself at the last minute. Lex always found that kind of talk devastating.

Instead, he thought about what Lex had just said, processed it for the first time.

And he blinked—something wasn't right. Really not right. "You thought what when she was about to burn you to death?"

Lex shrugged. "The world would probably be better off without me."

"Lex . . ." Clark swallowed. He had never heard Lex talk that way before. "Do . . . do you really think that?"

Lex looked away.

Clark's breath caught in his throat. He'd never thought of his friend as suicidal, but with all of the dangerous stunts Lex tended to pull . . . "I know you messed up, but, I mean, lots of people mess up. It-it doesn't mean you should die."

"You know how I tell you about that darkness in me? I tell you I can't always control it?"

"I know, but I'm not going to give up on you. You know that, right?"

"I appreciate that, Clark, but I don't know if it's going to be enough."

"You really think you deserve to die?"

Lex's eyes fell closed. For a long moment, he just breathed. When he opened his eyes again, they shone.

Clark felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He pulled Lex into his arms and hugged him tightly. "I'm glad you're alive," he whispered.

Lex didn't say anything. He just hugged back, face buried in Clark's shoulder.

4. Me too

It made Clark sad to see how distant Lois and Lucy were. He'd never really had a sibling; he'd always wanted one. But as was often the case, Lex had a different perspective on the situation.

"Just because you have the same blood running through your veins doesn't make you family," he said. "Look at us, Clark. I'm a product of my father's breeding. He needed an heir. But your parents chose you out of love. I'd take your family any day of the week."

Clark didn't address the last comment—Lex said that kind of thing a lot. "I just think Lois and Lucy could've been closer."

"Well, hopefully, one day they will be. But that's up to them. So quit blaming yourself for what happened."

Clark frowned. "Lex, do you ever miss having a sibling?

"I used to . . ." He looked Clark right in the eyes. "Until I met you, Clark. You're closer to me than any blood brother."

Clark just stared at him for a moment, then he snapped to his senses, realizing what Lex had just said. "You're like a brother to me, too."

Lex smiled, and it lit up the room.

5. Let's talk

Clark hadn't been fighting with Lex for very long, especially as compared to how often they had been friends, but some days it felt like it had been forever.

But when Lex's father was kidnapped and Clark was called in to help, he couldn't refuse, even if it meant working with Lex. His own mother had been caught up in it as well.

"It's a shame, isn't it?" Lex said. "Takes a crisis like this to get us in the same room together. Look, Clark, maybe when this is all over, we can try to find our way back to some common ground."

Clark looked into the eyes of the man he'd once called his best friend, and all at once it hit him how much he missed him. There was so much he didn't understand, so much he'd never gotten to ask.

Clark nodded. "I'd like that. Let's talk soon."

+1. I never

Strong human hands could crush a windpipe if they tried.

Part of Lex's brain believed Clark was trying to kill him, but what remained of his rationale knew that if Clark was trying to kill him, he'd be dead already. Clark wasn't trying to kill him. He was trying to hurt him.

Lex knew the look in Clark's eyes. He could always tell when his friends weren't themselves, and he'd seen Clark like this on a handful of occasions. It happened just too often to be a coincidence—it must have been some kind of toxin or drug that made Clark erratic and dangerous. Lex was sure that there were at least a few times when it was the reason why Lana had cried to Lex in his study over Clark's betrayal and lies.

Lex wouldn't have brought a gun if he weren't sure that Clark was on that drug, whatever it was. He couldn't predict what Clark would do while he was on it, and Lex wouldn't let Lana be a casualty. Wouldn't be a casualty himself, either.

He should have predicted that Clark would knock the gun away and grab his throat.

When the burning in Lex's lungs and the pounding in his head had passed the point of bearability, Clark spoke the words that made the physical pain feel like nothing:

"If I'd have known who you were gonna turn out to be, I never would have saved you on that bridge."

For a split second, Lex almost stopped struggling. Almost let the fuzzy darkness in the corners of his vision take over. Lex had seen Clark like this enough times to know that the words he spoke now were unfiltered, not untrue. If Clark said he wished Lex had died, he meant every word of it.

Then Lex fumbled with a tool chest on a table beside him and jammed a sharp metal tool into Clark's hand. Clark's grip loosened, and Lex broke free and ran away as fast as he could.

Because if Clark wished Lex were dead, the strangling wasn't just meant to hurt Lex—it was meant to kill him, as slowly and painfully as possible.

And Lex wasn't going to die at the hands of his brother.

End