Title: Tightening

Author: Mitch

Series: Part 6

Rating: R

Pairing: Clark/Lex

Category: Angst/Drama

Spoilers: Kinetic, Crush

Feedback: Please review. It makes me all warm inside.

**********

Outside, bolts of lightning strobed continuously in the night sky. They weren't close enough to really notice, but they were approaching.

Inside, Clark made an honest attempt to follow the conversation, nodding his head and smiling in all the right places. But he couldn't get over the sight in front of him. The sight of his two best friends, Chloe and Pete, talking and laughing like all the time that had gone by never really happened. But Clark couldn't lie to himself. There were differences.

Pete had continued with football, and it was very obvious. His neck was thicker, his body was bulkier, and his face had a hardness that Clark had never noticed before. It unnerved him at first, but once that good old Ross smile came shining through, Clark knew his friend wasn't all that different. Just... older.

After a long look at Pete, Clark turned his attention to Chloe, who was just as animated as he remembered, although her bouncy blond hair had become a light brown, and hung almost to her shoulders. Her funky teenage-reporter taste in clothes had been replaced with a darker, more refined style, better suited to a lawyer than a high school senior.

Clark looked up as his mother set another cup of hot cocoa on the table in front of him. He smiled thanks as she went back to the kitchen, where she and Jonathan were pretending to talk about the storm, letting Clark and his friends have some privacy in the dining room.

"Yoo-hoo! Earth to Clark!" Pete's voice rang out.

"Huh?"

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Well, you haven't changed much. You're still off in your own little world."

"No, I was listening. Really."

"Then what were we talking about? Hmm?" She folded her arms and pursed her lips.

"Uh, your internship at the Daily Planet. And you're captain of the football team, Pete. Congratulations to you both, by the way."

Pete snorted. "Nice try, Kent, but we finished with that subject about ten minutes ago. It's your turn to talk. Chloe was just asking you how things have been. What did you do in-- uh...

"Seattle," Clark supplied.

"Right. How was life in the Windy City?"

Chloe stifled a laugh. "Pete? You should seriously consider wearing a helmet to practice. Just a thought."

Pete shrugged her off. "Come on, Clark. Did Luthor set you up nice or what? A penthouse? A mansion? Spill!"

Clark thought of the small room and the bed and felt a faint burning in his stomach. "Just a house," he blurted.

Chloe's eyes lit up with more questions. "Well, what about entertainment? Did you go to the Space Needle? Or Pike Place Market? I heard that's a lot of fun. I mean come on, you don't expect us to believe you were cooped up in some house the whole time."

"I wasn't cooped up. I... I did stuff."

"Well enlighten us! It's not every day our friend gets back from an extended trip halfway across the country."

"What does it matter?! It's over now! Can we just move on?"

Pete gazed down at the table as Chloe sipped her cocoa nervously. They simultaneously came to the conclusion that they were being selfish. When they first found out about Phelan, they assumed the killing was self-defense, and therefore, saw no reason for Clark to feel guilty. The man did have it coming.

I suppose it's different for Clark, Chloe thought, when he's the one who actually did it. That must be the darkness in his eyes.

But she saw something else in those eyes. Although it didn't make sense to her, the word that kept coming to mind was "emptiness." The word gave her the chills. Maybe not the word itself, so much as how well it fit. Clark was somehow less than whole.

"Hey, I'm sorry, man," Pete cut in. "Don't think it was easy around here without you, 'cause it wasn't. The only reason we were okay is because Lex was constantly telling us that you were okay. I guess we just never thought about your side of things."

"No, I'm sorry, guys. I'm just glad to be home, and I want to put all of this behind me." He smiled brightly, amazed at how easy it was becoming to lie. He had briefly considered telling them everything. He was aching inside and wanted desperately to confide in someone. But he was worried they would talk to his parents. Not to mention the looks of fear and disgust that he knew would pass over their faces if they learned the truth. No, he couldn't do anything to make his friends desert him, he couldn't stand to be alone again.

First your powers and now this. Face it, Clark. You're a born liar.

All three of them jumped as thunder cracked closer outside and the first few drops of rain hit the window.

**********

Lex sped along the freeway, the cars headed in the opposite direction nothing more than a blur of headlights. As he approached the Smallville off-ramp, the rain had been sprinkling over his windshield. By the time he entered town, it was coming down in sheets and he was glad of it.

The board meeting had lasted about three hours longer than expected, which wasn't surprising with Lionel's taste for the grandiose. But Lex absorbed little of it, as he had been looking out the window, entranced by the incoming storm clouds, nearly praying for it to pour down and wash away the darkness.

He took a slower pace than usual through the narrow country roads of Smallville, enjoying the lightning show. Even as a child, he found summer rain inexplicably thrilling. He loved the way it hit the hot roads, only to float back up in the form of steam. He drove through that steam now, smiling as he remembered how it always reminded him of spirits rising from the earth.

He also remembered a time when his mother was alive, and he and his parents had been driving home from a stuffy museum opening on a stormy night much like this one. Lex had made a comment about driving through spirits, and his father had ridiculed him for it. After all, such thoughts were for directionless artists and religious quacks.

He remembered holding back tears, wishing he weren't so silly, wishing he could be the boy his father wanted, a boy that he could be proud of. But his mother had turned around and smiled her special smile. That conspiratorial smile that she only shared with Lex that meant, "I understand" or "I agree" or just simply "I know." She had a certain way of making Lex feel loved and special whenever Lionel made him feel less than human. That night, she had come up to his room with paper and crayons, and together, they drew pictures of the storm and the friendly spirits rising from the earth.

After her death, Lex wondered if he would ever find that again. That kind of understanding and perfect harmony with another person. It wasn't long before he gave up looking.

But then there was Clark. The young, mysterious boy from the farm, who Lex almost killed upon meeting. Well, not really, his mind corrected. Yes, now he knew exactly what happened that day, but he hadn't known then. And somehow, knowing didn't change a thing, except to make him love the boy even more. Clark knew what it was like to be alone, to be in a kind of emotional exile, just as Lex did. No wonder he could make Lex feel so special, so understood, that illuminating smile so reminiscent of his mother's.

No wonder Lex was willing to go to such lengths to protect him.

Another flash of lightning and his thoughts returned to the board meeting, particularly his father. Up until then, he had foolishly hoped that Lionel wouldn't know, wouldn't find out. Upon seeing the unholy glint in his father's eyes, however, he realized that Lionel knew. Lionel always knew.

Not about Clark, though. Lex was certain that if Lionel knew anything about Clark, the shit would have hit the fan long ago. But he did know that Lex had called in a favor from a very dangerous man.

Matéo Hernandez, the most connected and influential man in the underworld of Metropolis and consequently, the right hand of Lionel Luthor in all of his less than respectable dealings, took orders from no one but Lionel, and to cross him was to be brushed out of existence. But in his own twisted way, Matéo was an honest man. He remembered his debts and paid them. Lex had been counting on this.

Several years earlier, Matéo had nearly been seduced by a young woman who called herself Miriam. Lex knew something was wrong the second Matéo introduced them at Club Zero.

Lionel didn't discuss his personal life with Matéo and being the notorious man that he was, Matéo was never invited to any of Luthor's swanky dinner parties. If he had been, he would have known that Miriam was also Lionel's newest fling, which hardly could have been coincidence.

When Miriam went off to buy some drinks, Lex let him in on this little secret. Matéo told him to leave, that sparks were about to fly, and it was best to keep any and all Luthors out of the way. He did, and he received a call from Matéo about a week later. It turns out that Miriam was an undercover detective, "one slick bitch" as Hernandez put it, and that she had come dangerously close to uncovering some rather damaging secrets about Lionel. He told Lex he was indebted to him, not only for exposing Miriam, but for sparing him the wrath of Lionel for "banging the boss's girl."

Lex had laughed at the idea of calling in that debt. While Matéo was the most connected man in Metropolis, Lionel was a close second, and he would undoubtedly find out that Lex had enlisted the help of his number one operative. He didn't need his father's wrath anymore than Matéo did.

But desperate times call for desperate measures, and when Clark made his snap decision to return to Smallville, Lex didn't know where else to turn.

The year and a half Clark spent in Seattle wasn't just an act of selfishness on Lex's part. Clark's murder case was open and shut to begin with, and his fleeing hadn't helped matters. Lex honestly didn't know anyone who could dig Clark out of a hole that deep. But in times of most dire need, the mind has a way of conjuring up a lifeboat at the last minute.

He knew he couldn't stop Clark from leaving, and he shuddered to think what would happen if they tried to arrest him, so he made a call to Matéo Hernandez, who in turn, made several calls to a few tainted members of the legal system, getting Clark Kent acquitted in record time.

Now, as Lex neared the mansion, he thought of his father's smug expression at the meeting. Of course he knew. He always knew. It was just a matter of time until his rage was unleashed.

Lex could see the mansion now, and he sped up, ready to come home to the warm bath he had been promising himself all day. Just as the gates were closing behind his car, lightning crashed above him, so close it rattled the car windows, and he saw the porch lights blink out.

Shit.

He pulled a small flashlight from the glove box, and ran into the house, getting completely drenched in the process. He came dripping into the foyer and turned on the flashlight. There was a dart of movement in front of him, so quick he thought he had imagined it.

"Hello? Who's there?" Only the patter of the rain answered.

Lex continued toward the stairs, when another flash of lightning shone through the high windows of the sitting room, illuminating two men dressed completely in black, coming at him swiftly. Before he had time to think, the flashlight was knocked out of his hand and a large fist planted itself in his gut.

He doubled over, feeling the cold floor against his face as he tried to regain his breath, only to be kicked in the stomach again. He knew immediately who sent the goons, and his last thought before losing consciousness was of Clark's face.

The things I do for you, Kent.

**********

Clark entered the classroom and somewhat abashedly found a desk near the back. His embarrassment was short-lived, however, as he realized that the other students in the room were no more interested in him than they were in their own failing educations.

So this was summer school. Clark had envisioned actual classes taking place, essentially, school in the summer. But he looked up at the black board and saw only a list of different subjects; English, history, math and so on, across from which was a list of page numbers. On the bulletin board to the right, in startlingly happy yellow letters, were the words "Test Dates!" and another list.

He reached for his books, quickly becoming annoyed at the fact that he had to be there at all when he could study just as easily at home. Another quick glance at the board, and he was off to page 376 of his history book, where something extravagantly uninteresting lay, no doubt.

As he tried to focus on the page in front of him, the classroom door opened again. He was about to look up, when he decided it must be the teacher, who obviously wouldn't be doing a whole lot of teaching. Clark kept his eyes on the book and continued to read.

He soon became distracted again as he saw through his peripheral vision that the figure in the doorway was still standing there. He felt as though they were looking straight at him. A faint image of two holes being burned into the top of his head flitted through his mind.

At last, with a roll of his eyes, Clark looked up, ready to chew out whoever this idiot was.

"Clark." He nearly swallowed his tongue at the sound of that voice and at the sight of the one who possessed it.

"L-Lana."

He got up from the desk, forgetting his books, and half jogged to the front of the class. Before he even got to her, Lana was up on her toes, her arms outstretched, and finally enfolding him tightly. He wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry, and could do neither as his breath stopped in his throat.

Soon, though, he felt Lana's fingers curling through the back of his hair and felt her quiet sobs against his cheek, and he gave way to tears once more.

As though sensing his aversion to public crying, she took his hand and guided him out of the classroom. Clark doubted anyone noticed, and if they did, they wouldn't have cared.

They ended up in the empty cafeteria. The only sound was the hum of fluorescent lights and the muffled laughter of the female cooks in the kitchen as they gossiped. Lana broke the silence.

"I heard you were back."

"You haven't come to see me," Clark nearly whispered.

"I didn't know if I was supposed to. I mean, I wanted to give you time."

"I understand."

Another long pause, during which they made eye contact only briefly. This time, Clark spoke first.

"What are you doing here?"

Lana recognized the change of subject and complied with it. Clark would talk when he was ready. "Actually, I fell behind in a few classes. I've just been so busy with the Talon."

"Chloe told me about that. How did you come up with the idea?"

"Lex was planning to have it torn down. I asked him what he thought of reviving it as a coffeehouse, and he agreed."

"Lex is funding you?!"

"Well, at first. The Talon is supporting itself now."

Clark clenched his jaw, wondering why in hell Lex would be helping Lana. He brushed the thought away. "What about you and Whitney?"

Lana looked slightly surprised. "We, uh, broke up. It was getting too hard with him being a senior, and then his dad's death."

"Whitney's dad died?"

"Yeah. I figured you would have heard about that. He had a heart attack. Anyway, I think our breakup was for the best. We were really starting to outgrow each other, and he needed to focus on getting into college."

"Oh, where is he going to school?"

"Met U. He got a football scholarship."

Clark's eyebrows raised. He knew Whitney was a good player, but Metropolis University? That was a tough school to get into.

Lana obviously sensed his shock. "I guess it doesn't hurt to know important people. Lex helped Whitney get the scholarship."

"Lex? What the hell is he helping Whitney for? I thought they hated each other."

She shrugged. "Maybe he decided to turn over a new leaf. Lex has been very generous to the whole town these past few months."

Clark's head was spinning. He felt an enormous urge to pound a hole in the table next to him out of pure confusion, when it suddenly clicked together in his mind.

Of course, he thought. Lex is doing all these nice things for me. Because he knows I'd want him to.

The thought provoked not only anger and disgust, but a strange feeling in his heart, like a fist tightening around it. He took some deep breaths and it went away.

The silence was broken by another burst of laughter from the lunch ladies, and Lana looked at her watch. "Clark, I'm sorry. I really have to make up these grades. Nell says if I can't handle school, the Talon has to go."

"No, it's okay. Um, I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Okay." She looked into his eyes for a few more seconds, kissed him quickly on the cheek and bolted from the room without looking back.

Clark remained where he was, with a look of total shock on his face for several more minutes. When he finally remembered where he was, he got up to leave, but stopped when he thought he heard one of the lunch ladies say his name. He stood completely still as they left through the kitchen exit into the parking lot, obviously finished for the day. The only other word he was able to make out as they left was "killer."

The second the door shut, he ran with super speed to the kitchen, irrationally looking around for something to disprove what he thought he had heard. In a wastebasket next to the dishwasher, he saw the top of the Inquisitor poking up. He snatched it angrily, and felt his blood run cold as he saw a picture of himself, hugging Chloe and Pete on the cover.

"Killer Farmboy Returns" the headline read. "Could these unsuspecting teens be next???"

With surprising calm, Clark rolled up the paper and stuck it in his back pocket. Then, with fire in his eyes, he sped out of the school, hardly noticing the country roads shoot by as he headed for the mansion.