Title: Vision

Author: Mitch

Series: Part 4 of ?

Rating: R

Pairing: Clark/Lex

Category: Angst/Drama

Spoilers: Rogue

Author's Note: Man! I was going for a PG-13 rating all the way through. But this chapter had a specific story to tell and a specific way to tell it. (Or so The Lady told me. 'The Lady' being my new nickname for my muse. She's become quite uppity of late. And yes, it is a direct rip off of Lady Chablis from Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. :))

**********

"Sometimes I think I died that day. He didn't come for me in time and the car sank. The water is cold and unending and all I see is his face. That beautiful face, like he's holding open the Door of Heaven."

"Or Hell. Depends on how you look at it."

"Clark. I didn't know you were here."

"I wasn't... I'm not. Neither are you."

"Well, then where aren't we?"

"In the river. Where I left you to die."

"But you didn't."

"No, I didn't."

"You should have."

Silence.

"Is there nowhere else we can go, Clark? The water is thick and I long to see your face in the light."

"You need me."

"I need you."

"Take my hand."

Shift.

Lex looked around to find himself outside the Kents' house, but he could tell something was off. The sky above was full of menacing rain clouds ready to burst at any moment, but that wasn't it. He had visited Clark on cloudy days before, this was different somehow.

He moved his eyes back to the house, hoping to find comfort. The Kent home had always been like a source of warmth to him. He often marveled at how the house itself seemed to exude love, how Clark and his parents so effortlessly fueled that wholesome flame. But not today. The house was dark and cold, the windows boarded up, the flowers all dead. Fearful, he gripped Clark's hand tighter, then looked down realizing Clark's hand wasn't there.

"Clark?" He ran around to the side of the house, where he found Clark digging a large hole outside the barn. "Clark, what are you doing?"

"She always loved white roses."

Lex raised his arm and saw that he held two white roses in his clenched fist. "Who?"

Clark motioned to his right where his mother lay on the ground. "Thank you for remembering. I'm sure she would have been very happy."

"Martha!" Lex dropped the flowers and ran to the woman's side. He shook her gently, trying to wake her up. "Clark, help me!" Clark continued digging, as though he couldn't hear. Lex put his ear to Martha's face but couldn't hear any breathing.

"That's good enough," Clark said as he put down the shovel. He bent over and picked up his mother's lifeless body, and softly put her down in the earth. "She put so much of her life into this farm, it's only right that we bury her here." After a brief moment of reflection, he picked up the shovel and started refilling the hole.

Lex fell to his knees, powerless to stop any of it, not knowing how or why it was happening. He looked down at the once beautiful, warm woman as the tears welled up in his eyes. Just as they started to overflow, the clouds finally broke letting fall a heavy, cold rain. He looked up at the sky and he thought he could hear an airplane somewhere above the clouds. How he envied that plane, being above all this darkness in a place of light.

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft cry. "Clark, did you say something?" Clark merely grunted in response, focused on his task.

Again Lex heard the cry, louder this time and coming from beneath him. He looked into the hole, afraid to hope. Martha's right hand, now partially covered in damp soil, was twitching slightly, her face contorted as though she was waking up from a deep sleep. Lex grabbed Clark's arms to hold him still.

"She's alive! Look at her hand!"

Clark tilted his head to see better. "So she is," he stated coldly, "and just when I thought I was finished..."

"What?" Without answering, Clark raised the shovel high above his head and brought it down on his mother's skull with a deafening crack.

"CLARK...

**********

...NO!!!" Lex sat up in the bed, breathless. It took him a few seconds to remember where he was and to realize that the moisture on his face was his tears.

Just a dream, he thought. Although figuratively speaking, not far from reality.

He took a deep breath and dried his eyes. Once he was fully awake, he noticed that Clark wasn't in the bed next to him. In a panic, he jumped from the bed. "Clark? Clark, where are you?" The only response was a faint panting. Lex turned to the French doors and saw Clark's bare feet under the curtains, the outline of his body balled up like he was under attack.

He quickly shuffled to Clark's side and pulled the curtains away, shocking Clark out of his frenzied silence.

"No, please! Please don't hurt me! Please don't hurt me!"

"Clark, it's me, Lex!" He could hardly hear himself over Clark's frightened cries. He grabbed the other boy's shoulders to get his attention. "What is it, Clark? What's wrong?"

Clark turned to face him, still panting, his face soaked with a mixture of sweat and tears. Lex had never seen him so pale.

"Lex," he whispered, as he threw himself into Lex's arms. "Make it stop. Please make it stop, Lex. It - ah! - it hurts so much, make it stop!"

Lex held Clark tightly, trying to stop his shaking. He was near tears himself, wondering what he could do to help. And then it dawned on him. He turned around and saw the open box emanating the green shimmer of destruction. "Goddamn it!" He ran to the box and closed it. Then out of anger, guilt, and temporary madness, he opened the French doors, ran out on the deck, and threw it as far as he could. He didn't move until he saw it finish its descent of three floors and crush on the ground.

After regaining what he knew was a poor excuse for composure, he walked back into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. Clark lay on his stomach, breathing more slowly than before. Despite the circumstances, Lex couldn't help but notice the young man's beauty, the strong back moving up and down with his breath, the muscled legs clearly defined through his silk pajama bottoms.

Lex reached out and placed a gentle hand on the back of Clark's neck, from which Clark instantly recoiled, backing up toward the drapes. And again with the quickened breath.

He drew his knees up to his chest and for the first time, actually saw the room around him, instead of just looking at it. So small it seemed, just a normal bedroom. A bedroom that had been his entire universe only moments before, and an unfathomable, mysterious universe for countless isolated moments before that. His physical pain was gone, but his confusion remained, his brain refusing to cooperate after the encounter with that - rock.

Ask questions, he thought. Maybe if Lex tells me as much as he can, the rest will fill itself in.

But he didn't know where to begin. Millions of questions were already coursing through his mind, competing for admittance into the realm of spoken words, and not one of them even denting the cell of wrought ignorance that held his mind prisoner. Flustered, he decided to start with something basic.

"Where are we?"

Lex remained on his knees where he had tried to reach out to Clark. Solemnly, he lifted his head until their eyes met. "Seattle."

Not even the tiniest dent. "Seattle?! Why? How did we get to Seattle? What are we doing here?" Pause. Oh, what the hell. "Lex, what the fuck is going on?"

"You really don't remember," Lex wondered, more to himself than to Clark.

"Remember what? What don't I remember?"

Even more quietly, "I mean, I knew you would be out of it, that your mind would slow down, but I never... my God, you can't even remember!"

"Answer me!!!" Clark's preternatural volume startled Lex out of his contemplation and he timidly blurted out two words.

"Sam Phelan."

Clark choked on his own saliva as the name penetrated his ears. Sam Phelan. Such animosity for that name, such hatred, like a living breathing anger was awakening inside him, not yet a memory and still strong enough to burn through him like hot ice. At last, one of the neurons in his brain sprang back into action, shooting a vivid scene before his eyes.

He was in Metropolis, standing in the way of a swerving bus, then blinking as the metal wrapped around his body like tinfoil.

~pulse~

He was in the barn as a generator came crashing down on him. Chucking it easily away, he heard the sardonic clapping of the man who shouldn't have been there, shouldn't have seen.

~pulse~

He was in a dark room looking for a safe, knowing he shouldn't be there, thinking of a way to turn the tables. He ran to the top of the stairs after finding the safe, and happily dropped it on the waiting car below.

~pulse~

A dead body. A gun in a plastic bag. His father in handcuffs.

Clark stomped angrily through the living room. His fury no longer under his control, he pounded one of the wooden support beams, the feel of it breaking with the impact of his fist only feeding his aggression.

"That's what you get for trying to be a hero, Clark. You're a pretty smart boy, but you forget. I've been doing this a long time."

Clark turned on Phelan, resisting the urge to break him like he did the beam. "Who's that man?"

"Did you really think you could double cross me? Clark, my job is about scenarios. You never enter a crackhouse with one plan, you go in with ten! That's how you survive! The truth is, kid, YOU DIDN'T LEAVE ME A LOT OF OPTIONS!!!"

Yell at me again and I'll rip out your throat, Clark thought, as his violent urges grew stronger with each second. "I want my dad out of jail."

"You complicate my life, I'm gonna complicate yours!" Clark threw him against another support beam, but Phelan laughed, his shrill pitch bordering on hysteria. "Maybe next time I'll get your mom, Clark. Sure, we'll find a nice young man and cut him up. Make it look like she was fucking around on your dad and things got ugly."

"Fuck you!" Clark slammed him harder, denting the wood with the back of Phelan's head.

"Oh don't worry. Pretty ladies like your mom get along fine in prison. Before you know it, she'll be some woman's bitch -"

Before he got a chance to finish, before Clark even saw what was happening, his hands released the lapels of Phelan's suit jacket and reached for his head. With the speed and precision of a trained professional, he had the palm of his left hand planted firmly on the man's chin, and the fingers of his right hand digging into the back of his head. With a roar of unfiltered rage, he twisted the head sharply and felt several reverberating snaps.

Then, as if in slow motion, Phelan's face, the very portrait of surprise, went blank. A small trickle of blood escaped the corner of his lips and he collapsed at Clark's feet in a lifeless heap of flesh and bone.

**********

Clark blinked. Once. Twice. The frightening vision cut off and he was back in the room with Lex. Upon seeing the tears in Lex's eyes, he realized that he had been recounting the whole story aloud.

"I killed a man," Clark said, wiping his own tears. "But I still don't understand. How does that tie in?"

Lex stood up, knowing it was time to relive his side of the story. Taking a deep breath, he ran his hand over his head and began.

"The day that you... the day it happened, I was there."

"You saw me -"

"Yes. I came over to see how things were going, to see if Phelan was still bothering you, but just as I arrived, the cops were driving your father away and your mom was getting in her car to follow. She explained what was going on and I asked if I could go in to see you.

"Before she was able to answer, we heard shouting coming from inside and she recognized one voice as yours. I said I'd be willing to bet the other was Phelan's.

"By then, your father was gone. Martha jumped out of the car and I sprinted to the front door, thinking she was following close behind. But when I got there, she wasn't with me. I didn't think on it too long, because when I looked through the screen door, I saw you and Phelan facing off, him screaming something about how you didn't leave him a lot of options. I instantly understood that he was the one who planted the body in the barn and my first instinct was to walk in and threaten him with you. Hell, I had the door halfway open. But the rage, Clark. The rage in your eyes was like nothing I'd ever seen and it froze me. And when he started talking about your mom, it was like I could feel the heat of your stare shooting through him and across the room."

Lex knew that was the last straw. He knew that if he didn't try to intervene, Clark was going to do something horrible. He ran into the house just as Clark was putting his hands on Phelan's head.

"Clark, stop!!!"

But his voice drowned in the power of Clark's scream and the crunching of Phelan's neck. Lex's stomach churned as he watched the body crumble to the floor, curling over itself at what seemed like an impossible angle.

Unable to move, or even breathe, Lex stared on wanting it to be a dream or an illusion, wishing against wish that he wasn't really seeing it. But there it was. The body unmoving, the eyes unblinking, the skin of the neck grotesquely stretched and twisted.

When he thought for sure he was going to vomit, Clark started losing his balance, wobbling at first, then toppling over completely onto his back. Behind him stood Martha, breathless, red-faced, and holding a large green rock with both hands.

Lex looked at his unconscious friend and back up at the boy's mother. "What did you do?"

"He... he's uh, allergic. To the meteor rocks. I heard the anger in his voice and didn't know what else to do. I just had to stop him from doing something stu-" She noticed Phelan's body for the first time. "Oh... oh, God."

Martha dropped the rock and nearly became the third fallen body in the room, but Lex ran over to catch her.

"Martha, listen to me! We don't have time for this. Clark's in trouble and I can get him out of it but I need your help. Please, stay with me!"

"Oh, Clark no." Her bloodshot eyes refused to focus on the sordid sight before her.

"Martha, please! Clark needs you!"

Her motherly instincts finally took over, snapping her back to reality. "Lex, you're right, we need to get him out of here. Can you take him back to the castle?"

"Everyone knows he's friends with me. The castle will be one of the first places they check."

"Well take him somewhere for God's sake! Who knows what he'll do if the police try to take him?"

"You don't think he'd hurt an innocent -"

"I don't know, Lex. After what happened with his father and now this... he's not thinking clearly. You have to take him away, take him somewhere he can cool off until we figure out what to do."

"Okay, okay! I'll drive him to the Metropolis airport. My private jet is always fueled and waiting in case of last-minute emergencies."

Emergency, Martha thought, as something dark inside of her laughed maniacally at the understatement.

Lex returned to Clark's side and bent down to pick him up. He was surprisingly light and Lex held him close. Unconsciously, Clark groaned and rested his warm face sweetly against Lex's chest, bringing a lump to the older boy's throat for the first time since the beginning of all this.

This poor boy, he thought. He has no idea what's in store for him.

Once Lex got to his car, Martha assisted him in opening the door and laying the seat back. He finished situating Clark's unnervingly long legs and turned to Martha, suddenly noticing she had the rock with her. He gave her a doubtful look.

"Just in case." Reluctantly, he took it from her and leaned across Clark to slip it under the driver's seat.

"I'll send someone for Phelan," he said straightening his shirt.

"No, it's okay. I know what to do."

"Are you sure? This is becoming a messy situation..."

"Really, Lex. I have a plan. But you have to go before someone comes along!" She brushed past her new partner in crime and knelt down to kiss her son goodbye. Her protective surge of adrenaline had kept the tears at bay, but they would be held no longer. She covered her son's face in kisses, leaving a salty trail behind, and only when she felt Lex's hand on her shoulder did she desist.

"My sweet boy," she sobbed. "Lex, take care of him."

He took the broken woman in his arms. "I swear to you, he'll be just fine. I'll take him to one of my father's properties and -"

"Go. Go now, before I change my mind."

Lex nodded. He closed Clark's door and jogged around to the other side, starting the car before he even had his own door shut.

Martha crossed her arms in front of her chest tightly and fixed her eyes on the car until she couldn't see it anymore.

**********

Lex stopped pacing and sat on the edge of the bed, exhausted after the retelling.

Clark attempted to take it all in. He knew he wasn't the only one who had been through an ordeal and when he spoke, his voice was soft.

"So what did she do? About Phelan, I mean."

"She turned herself in for the murder."

"She what?!" Clark sat up straight.

"It didn't work, Clark. Besides the fact that no one would believe her, there were scratches on the back of Phelan's head where you grabbed him and they didn't find a trace of his DNA under her fingernails."

"So they know it was me," Clark said with a defeated sigh, "I'm wanted for murder. But what about my dad?"

"He - he didn't beat the murder charge. I told your mom I'd get my best lawyers on the case but she said no."

"W-why?"

"She knew that they would more than likely get him cleared. She also knew that if your father were free, he would never stop searching until he found you, that he'd want you to face up to your problem the 'honest' way."

"So she'd rather have me locked up in some room with one of those rocks?"

"Clark, she didn't know I kept the rock." Lex shifted his eyes to the floor nervously. "That was my idea. I just wanted to keep you calm. I didn't want you to be afraid. I sent a nurse in to hook you up to an IV and some mild sedatives, but she claimed she couldn't get the needle through your skin." Now Clark's eyes shifted.

"I told your mother that if I was going to take care of you, that she needed to be honest with me. She told me everything. The meteor shower, all of it. Up until then, the rock had been in the room with you. So I had one of the servants break off a small piece and put it into a thin lead box, so the effect wouldn't be as strong. I didn't think you would lose so much of your memory, but after all this time..."

Clark felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. "What do you mean 'all this time?'" His voice began to quiver. "Lex, what is the date?"

"Clark, you're tired. Maybe we should -"

"Lex. Tell. Me."

"It's June 10th."

"Six months?" His eyes widened.

"...of... 2003."

Clark fell back against the door, feeling the blood leave his face.

"No. No, you're lying! There's no way. My mom would never let me go for so long, she would never go that long without calling or coming to see me!"

"The police were watching her, Clark. They suspected she was hiding you and they were keeping a close eye on her. It was too risky for her to contact you."

"B-but you talked to her. How did she contact you without leading the police to us?"

Lex pinched the bridge of his nose. "I... wasn't here. I didn't come until yesterday."

"No! You were here, you talked to me! I remember every word!"

Choking back a sob, Lex pointed to the wall across the room from the bed. There stood an old-fashioned wooden armoire that Clark hadn't noticed before. On trembling legs, he stood and slowly crossed the room, reaching for the knobs. With a creak, the double doors opened and inside was a television and VCR, clarifying everything.

"You taped yourself?! You left me alone in this room for a year and a half with a fucking videotape?!?"

Lex tried to defend himself, his pitch rising. "I wanted you to feel -"

"YOU BRAINWASHED ME!!! No wonder I remember it word for word. 'This is your home, Clark. I love you.' You had me watching this thing every day, maybe every hour that I was here! Does my mom know about that part of the plan, Lex? That I'd have to listen to you profess your love so many times that I'd believe I loved you back? That I'd let you have your way with me, let you inside my body?!" Clark doubled over with racking sobs as he remembered the night before, the way Lex had touched him, the way he had liked it.

"I was afraid to come. I didn't want anyone to follow me," Lex yelled, openly weeping.

"You wanted me for yourself. You weren't concerned with my freedom, you just wanted to make sure no one found your new toy."

"Clark, I'm so sorry!"

"Save it. You've taken a year of my life that I can never get back, and it ends now. Call the airport."

"Clark, you're still wanted. The police will arrest you the second they see you!"

"Well, then your little team of lawyers better get on the ball, because I'm getting out. If I can't go by plane, I'll just run home. And you know I could do it."

Lex felt his heart sinking into his stomach. Knowing there was nothing else he could say or do to make things better, knowing that this, his most recent of fuck-ups was monumental, even for him, recognizing the look on Clark's face as the very one Lex reserved for, oh God, his own father, he left the room in search of a phone.

Clark, once more alone, scurried to the other side of the bed where Lex had left his jacket the night before. He found a cell phone in the inside pocket and with trembling fingers, dialed his home number.

One ring.

Two. For Christ's sake, please!

Click. "Hello?"

"Mom?" A short gasp on the other end of the line. "Mom it's me. I'm coming home."