A/N-WARNING: Here it is… I really struggled with this chapter. I had it all written and ready to post, but I knew there was something wrong with it. I couldn't post it until I fixed it, and I didn't know how to fix it until last night. I realised that there was something missing from the story, and I agonised over it before I finally rewrote this chapter.
I'm still really conflicted about the upcoming chapters. I know what I want to happen, but how to get there… I have very few options. I'm not sure what avenue I want to take. Should I be worried about offending anybody, or just write what I believe is the only way this story can plausibly end… In any case, it's up to me in then end.
If you can guess what I'm talking about, I'll give you a sneak peek of the next chapter.:-) Enjoy
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In the end it all comes out. The whole damn story and it seems that telling Smiley has opened the floodgates because it's not nearly as hard with Chloe as it was with her. Maybe it's because this kind of love is safer; less likely to rip your heart out when it went, and easier to snuff out if necessary.
Chloe stays with him all day, despite the fact that she had rushed over during the school's lunch hour to see him, and ends up missing a history test.
They get some ice cream from the freezer and eat it straight from the carton together. It feels like forever since he felt this normal, and it's just really, painfully good. He wants to keep on feeling this way for as long as possible, but Chloe's cell phone rings and she goes home, and the peaceful tone of the afternoon is broken.
By the time the sun goes down, Clark is back to his usual morose self.
The next day he calls Lex's house at eight in the morning, just like he's been doing for the past two weeks. He's expecting that same bland voice to answer, telling him unconcernedly that yes, Lex is still in Metropolis and no, he hasn't said when he'll be returning, but this time Clark is pleasantly surprised.
"Yes?" Lex's unmistakeable voice comes through, and Clark is just shocked enough to have lost his tongue. "Hello?" Lex repeats.
"Lex!" He shouts, before the other man has a chance to hang up the phone. "It's me, Clark."
There is a pause. "Clark." He says blandly, almost professionally, "I'm sorry I wasn't around when you came to call; I had some pressing matters to attend to in Metropolis."
"It's ok." Clark feels vaguely as though he's being mocked.
"I'd like you to you come over for dinner tonight." Lex invites.
"Um, sure. What time?" Clark asks eagerly.
"Around seven. I'll tell Darius to buzz you in. See you then." The phone clicks down before Clark can even say goodbye, and he's left feeling a little faded at the treatment, but he knows it's not more than he deserves.
Seven can't come early enough and he leaves the house half an hour early. He tells his father where he's going, but it's hard to get much of a reaction out of him nowadays. Ever since that day when Clark returned to the farm, Jonathan has been holding himself at a distance, speaking very little and always matter-of-factly.
He arrives at the mansion at six forty-five. The man in the intercom- Darius, Clark reminds himself- buzzes him in, and he's told to wait in the foyer. He waits for what feels like forever, when finally he hears the click-clack of expensive shoes coming down the stairs. Seeing Lex today is like seeing him come back from the dead. It's like that night weeks ago never happened, or that phone conversation. Like he never read the newspapers or saw that news bulletin telling him that Lex really was alive.
Clark can feel the itchy heat building behind his eyes, threatening to spill over with tears at any given moment. "Lex." He chokes, standing. The bland businessman disappears, and Clark sees a rare vulnerability push any cold exteriors aside as Lex half-walks-half-runs toward him. They hug for a long moment, and finally Lex pulls back.
"God, Lex. You have no idea how good it is to see you." Clark breathes, scrubbing away the few tears that managed to escape.
"Clark, you're in a lot of trouble." He says seriously, holding him at arm's length.
"What do you mean?" His stomach drops. He has a feeling he knows what Lex is talking about.
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The pictures are very clear. They're also very, very incriminating. Most of them are back or profile shots, but there are a few face shots mixed in with the bunch. The papers are like a blur, though. He can't bring himself to read them.
"You need to see these, as well." Lex hands him a few papers that read WANTED as the header. Clark puts them back on the desk without looking through them. "Clark?"
"I already know what's in them." He says dully, and Lex gets a dangerous glint in his eye. The bald man crosses behind his desk and sits down, pulling the papers toward himself.
"Are you sure? Assault. Assault with a deadly weapon. Carrying a concealed weapon. Armed robbery. Destruction of public property. Assaulting a police officer. At least two counts of murder. That sure as hell doesn't sound like the Clark Kent I knew." Lex speaks quietly, but Clark can tell every muscle in his body is clenched in anger.
"It wasn't." Clark begins, and then stops, words and worries spinning around in his mind. What could he say? Lex had photographic evidence of him punching through cash machines and shooting at police officers outside of a freshly robbed bank.
"It wasn't what, Clark? Up until yesterday you were wanted in three separate cities across the country!" Clark can almost see Lex counting back from ten in his head.
"I wasn't trying to deny it, Lex." Clark says miserably, and buries his face in his hands. "And what do you mean up until yesterday?"
"Clark!" Lex is clearly not going to answer him, so he takes a few deep breaths.
"Lex… God. Okay. I… did some really bad stuff, Lex." He feels like running, hiding, curling up in a little ball and disappearing, but his best friend is still waiting for an answer, and he has a new policy. Honesty is best.
Lex just looks at him like he's retarded, and Clark guesses, yes, that may have already been obvious.
"Lex, please just tell me what you meant." It's a stalling tactic, but the desperation on his face is real, and Lex must see something there that makes him relent.
"I cleaned up your messes, Clark. That's where I've been when I haven't in Metropolis, trying to keep my father from having me committed to a mental institute." He chuckles humourlessly. "Clark, I'm not holding your record hostage for your secrets." He says sincerely, and Clark believes him. It doesn't keep the guilt of lying at bay. "After Lexcorp, you've been my main concern since I was rescued. I've been trying to find you, but your parents wouldn't tell my anything!" He grabs a fashion magazine that Clark has never heard of and flips it open. "You're lucky no one here has seen this."
Clark looks at the spread, surprised to find a picture of himself and Smiley dominating the page. He touches the page; wanting to feel Smiley's hair, see if it's as soft and thick as in real life. He pulls his hand away, knowing he can never touch her again. "I don't even really remember this." Clark murmurs, caught up in memories of her skin and her smile.
"Clark."
A flush spreads across his cheeks as he looks up to meet Lex's steady gaze. "My mom lost the baby and it was my fault." He blurts, just to say something.
Lex sits back in his chair. Waits. "And so you ran away to Metropolis."
A jerky nod. "Right."
Lex has a disturbed look on his face. "Clark, I've never known you to set out to deliberately hurt anyone before I found out about what you'd been doing in Metropolis and Gotham."
"There was this… drug." Clark searches for words that will explain without revealing his biggest secret. Why can't he tell the truth, for once? It had felt so good with Chloe, like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders… Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. "God… My dad's gonna kill me." He mutters.
"If you're that afraid to tell me, you can go. Consider the matter dropped. And you don't have to worry about the feds coming to your door, it's all been taken care of." The defeat in Lex's voice is overpowering, and the bleak look on his face is all Clark needs to see to know Lex has given up. Clark realises he is halfway out of his chair when he catches himself.
"No. You deserve the truth, Lex."
Lex says nothing.
"The truth is, I made a mistake." Clark thinks this is probably one of the most frightening moments in his life. Forget getting hit by a speeding car, forget tornadoes, forget first kisses and explosions and meteor rocks. Lex can really hurt Clark. "I made a continuous series of really bad mistakes." He almost laughs. "For five and a half months." Clark runs a hand through his hair. One thing hadn't been a mistake—or had it?
"So I was pretty much constantly high once I got to Metropolis. I started going to clubs and hooking up with girls, and then I didn't have any money. The… drug I had was like… It lowered my inhibitions and made me—mean. I wasn't a good person during that time. I did a lot of things-" Clark chokes on his words. "I did things I hate myself for now. Which you obviously know about."
Lex nods. "Yes."
Clark isn't sure whether or not he should go on. On one hand he's already almost halfway there, but on the other hand is the constant threat to Clark's freedom and safety. He knows Lex is a much bigger threat to him than Chloe is, if only because of the huge difference in resources. But no. The issue here isn't Clark's trust in Lex, It's Clark's trust in himself. And he's not going to let that get in the way of this pivotal moment.
"I'm different from anybody you'll ever meet." I think, he adds silently.
"I gathered that." The other man says with the slightest trace of a smile in his voice.
"I'm—I'm really fast, and really strong. Um, I can see through things, I can shoot fire from my eyes."
"A meteor mutant." Lex is nodding as if it all makes sense now. Clark pauses. He could say yes and it would all… be okay again, maybe. But it wouldn't be the truth, and the truth is penance, and he desperately needs the kind of redemption only the truth can provide.
"You really did hit me with your car. I caused the explosion that made my mom miscarry. I had to destroy my ship."
"Your ship." Lex says, not comprehending.
"My spaceship."
The laughter is unexpected, because, really, who laughs at a super-strong, super-fast murderous alien? Lex, apparently. Clark isn't sure what to say. This is a reaction he hasn't come across yet. Slowly the laughter peters off.
"… Your spaceship." Lex says, wonder in his voice, splashed across his face. "…God."
"Almost." Clark quips, but Lex doesn't hear it. There's a look in his eyes that Clark recognises but doesn't understand, and he dreads what it could mean.