Okay ppls, here's chapter 2, but you have to do something before reading it: A NEW SCENE HAS BEEN ADDED TO THE END OF CHAPTER 1. GO BACK AND READ IT BEFORE READING THIS CHAPTER! Now, here's more!

"I no doubt deserved my enemies, but I don't believe I deserved my friends."

Walt Whitman

Chapter 2 – Lex

He was different.

It was as simple as that.

I couldn't pinpoint exactly when his attitude had changed, but it certainly had. And it bothered me more than I cared to admit. It wasn't that I was concerned for him, though I would have been if the situation had called for it. Because it wasn't the expression he got when things were bad at home or he was arguing with Lana. No, whatever it was, it was about me.

If people preach certain things at you enough, you begin to at least wonder if they're true. I could attest to this. So perhaps all the people in Clark's life who so often questioned him about why I was his best friend had planted a seed of doubt. Maybe he was seeing that there was no 'why' to our relationship.

Because the truth was, Clark didn't need me. He never had. I needed him. So these past few years, I had been savoring my time with him and waiting for him to figure this out.

And now I was simply afraid that he had seen the light.

Yes, from the day Clark had shown up at my home and insisted on returning his "gift", from the first moment I realized I had a friend (a real one), I had been preparing myself to lose him.

More so lately.

I had convinced myself that if he didn't leave of his own volition, I was eventually going to accidentally a) push him away or b) scare him off.

And in the past year or so, I had discovered a dandy way of achieving the latter.

Yes, I could admit to a few things that would have him running in the opposite direction.

I had thought for a while that the attraction lay simply in the novelty. Clark didn't fit in my world and I liked that because I didn't like my world. That was the basis of my side of the friendship. He was so radically different from everyone else I knew. So much better than I could ever hope to be. I'd known no one like him.

And though I had desperately tried not to, I had grown to depend on his steady presence in my life. He had burrowed his way into this world of mine and made a place for himself. Usually as my conscience.

Nowadays, I understood that whatever we were was a little more than attraction or friendship alone. I was more dependent on him now than ever.

So I really wasn't in the mood to lose him just yet.

"Hey."

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

"Hey," I returned, sitting up in my desk chair and logging out of the computer program I had been staring at (or rather through) for the past twenty minutes. "You're late."

"Yeah, sorry," He slung his bag onto the couch and then plopped down beside it. "I sort of had to blow off a few Torch responsibilities this afternoon, so I had Pete following me home and kinda scolding me, and I normally would have run, but he can't um," He cleared his throat uneasily, "he can't really keep up."

"No need to rush," I assured him, rising to my feet and then leaning back casually against the desk. "I occupied my time."

His eyes darted to the computer. "You're busy." It was a statement, not a question. Precedence had taught him many times that I often had to shoo him away at his arrival because something had come up.

I gave him a half smile. "Not unless you count a game of Solitaire as vital to the future of LexCorp."

This got a slight laugh out of him and shifted his eyes back to me. But the mirth quickly faded from his countenance and he lowered his gaze. My own smile disappeared as well.

"Really Clark, you didn't interrupt anything," I insisted, ducking my head in a vain attempt to get him to look at me again.

"No, I know."

He didn't say anything else and for the first time, the silence between us was uncomfortable. Expectant on my end and reluctant on his.

"You alright?" I eventually inquired. I seemed to be asking that a lot lately.

"Fine," he said curtly.

"You know I can tell when you're lying, Clark, you do this thing with your face."

"I do not."

"Yes, you do; it's this a little bit too wide-eyed look you get." Clark's visage deliberately relaxed a bit at this. "So what's wrong? Is Chloe mad about you ditching?"

"No." He shook his head. "Well, yes, but she'll get over it."

I sighed and reluctantly continued. "So it must be Lana then."

He didn't respond for a moment and that's when I assumed I had guessed correctly. "She's in Metropolis right now," he said.

"So? You miss her?"

Another pause. And then he looked at me again. "Can I tell you something?"

My brow furrowed slightly at the gravity in his tone. "Sure."

He leaned forward to place his elbows on his knees, allowing his hands to dangle between them and his head to droop. "I was actually kind of glad for the break."

Needless to say, my confusion was increased by this. "Care to share why?"

He seemed to consider this and I got the distinct impression that he was filtering his next sentence. "I'm just…not sure about her right now."

"Wow." I nodded with feigned sympathy. "That may be the vaguest statement I've ever heard in my entire life, Clark." I laughed at the exasperated look this earned me. "C'mon, I can't help you if you won't tell me what's wrong."

"It's nothing, okay? Maybe I don't need help with this."

I was slightly offended by that, but I kept it from my face. My "Fine" however, must have sounded a bit more resigned than usual, because Clark's face was immediately apologetic.

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that." He reached up to run his fingers through his hair. "I need time, is all. I gotta figure this one out on my own."

His head was bowed again and I shook my own, pushing off from the edge of the desk and returning to the chair behind it. "Right," was all I offered.

And suddenly he was looking at me again, this gaze slightly bewildered. "What?" he asked as I rebooted the computer.

"Nothing Clark."

"No, I wanna know."

I sighed and paused, trying to think how to word what I wanted to say without my customary sarcasm. "It's nothing, really. Just one more thing to add to the list of unknowns I have filed away under the 'Clark' label."

And without even having to look up, I knew he was angry. "That's not fair. I didn't ask for help, you pried." A beat. And then softer: "As usual."

After allowing myself a minute to seethe silently, I chose to ignore that.

"Why do you want to know about Lana and me anyway?" he demanded. "What's it matter to you?"

"It doesn't." My voice had not raised an octave, but it was taking more self-restraint than I was accustomed to employing. "You're right, it doesn't." I stood again, abandoning the computer that had only just now loaded. "It doesn't matter to me at all. But it matters to you, Clark." His face softened at this. "Every now and then, believe it or not, I'm curious to know what goes on in my best friend's life. Now, I've accepted that there are some things you're not going to be telling me any time soon. But I thought the day-to day stuff, i.e. Lana, was a little more open. It's not this in particular that I need to know. But there are times…" I suddenly found myself without the energy and eloquence that had briefly possessed me and I felt deflated, "there are times when I feel like I don't know anything," I finished. "And I wonder if I ever will."

It took him some time to work up a response to that and he couldn't even look at me when he had. "It's not about you, Lex."

"Yes, it is."

"No, it's really not." And there was that expression of his that he got every time he was holding something back. The one that told me I wouldn't understand in the slightest. I was always somewhat insulted by it.

"It is." I lowered myself down on the couch beside him. "It doesn't matter if I'm not the only one you don't tell Clark. You're still telling me that you don't trust me. Saying it's not about me doesn't mean it's not about me. It just means it's about everyone."

"No." Finally, he was looking at me again, though calmer now. "It's not about you. It's not about anyone else. It's about me." He stared at me for a while as if studying my features; memorizing me maybe. "And I can't. But I'm sorry that I can't. And it's important that you know that." His eyes were fixed on mine now, imploring. "Okay?"

I shrugged. "Not okay. But acceptable, I guess."

For now.

"You really wanna hear about Lana?"

I allowed a grin. "No. Not especially."

My amusement was contagious apparently, as I got punched playfully in the arm for this, and none too gently.

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