1"Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within." -James Baldwin

The sky was a dull gray. Misty raindrops fell, soaking the ground completely. Lex's shoes sunk into the mud as he walked out into the cornfield. The driver of a Luthor Corp truck had crashed there and was now in Belle Reve, suffering from telekinesis. It was slowly driving him mad.

Lex had tried to pry his father for answers when they were in Belle Reve, visiting the poor soul. They watched him through the window.

"You know what did this to him," Lex stated. He was sure the old man knew exactly what was going on.

"In all honesty, Lex, I have no clue what did this to Mr. Smith. I'm at a loss, just as much as you are," Lionel replied as they calmly watched the man flinging orderlies around in his padded cell, using only his mind.

Lex looked at him out of the corner of his eye. His father's face was stony and unreadable.

"We'll launch an inquiry," Lionel went on. "This happened in our own backyard. Finding the cause shouldn't be too difficult."

That was what Lex was doing out in the muddy cornfields, watching his team of scientists look for answers.

The lead researcher approached him and said, "we've taken some samples from the surrounding area and what's left of the truck, Mr. Luthor. We're heading on back to the lab now to check for toxins and contaminants."

Lex nodded. He had a migraine. It had come back and just kept getting worse. He was stressed out and he couldn't pretend that it wasn't a blow that the only solace from his dreary life had a boyfriend. Her attention was divided and half the time, she brought Clark along. He ached for the moments when he was alone with Lana, when they could spend time in one another's company without another soul in the room. Those days were few and far between now and he liked seeing Clark less and less.

He didn't like feeling so jealous of his best friend. It was wrong and he knew it, but how could he not be jealous? Clark had the girl of their dreams.

He needed coffee.

At the Beanery, Lex happened upon Chloe, who was busy consuming her fourth cup of joe for the day. She was sitting at a table by her lonesome, jotting something down quickly in her notebook as she took regular sips from her mug. She spotted him. "Lex, I was just about to go find you!"

"It was only a matter of time before you did and no, I can't give you a comment."

Though she was disappointed, she wouldn't be deterred. She tried a different tack. "Off the record then?"

Lex sighed. "Off the record, whatever crazy suspicions you have are probably true."

She squealed. "I knew it!" There was a significant amount of triumph in her voice and if his head wasn't killing him, he would've been amused by it. Her expression mellowed, though her inquisitiveness remained. "Lex, is there something wrong with you?"

"What?"

"Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. You're very broody."

"Am I not usually?"

"Not this bad," she said, studying him keenly. "Okay, let me take a stab in the dark and guess that your broodiness is about a certain raven haired beauty we both know."

"What makes you say that?" He tried to play it cool.

"Journalistic instinct," she replied. She took another sip of her coffee, sat it down and looked at him carefully. Her expression was one of concern. She said, "you know, I make a pretty good agony aunt. I've had a lot of practice, being best friends with Clark and all."

Lex sat down across from her. He was silent for a moment and then he told her, "I've never really been good at saying what I feel, Chloe. I was raised by my father, after all."

Chloe wanted to press him on the subject, but she didn't want to make him uncomfortable. She decided to tell him a secret and maybe he would tell her one too. "I've been in love with Clark Kent since I was fourteen."

That was a very abrupt statement, it actually jarred Lex. He never thought she would be so candid with him. He was suspicious of her openness and knew what she was doing. "Chloe—

"I liked him since I first met him," she went on, not pausing. She looked him right in the eye, fearlessly. "Everything about him was perfect and by the end of eighth grade I knew he was special."

"Chloe," he said a little more forcefully. He didn't want to be rude, but he didn't want to divulge what he was sure she wanted him to.

"You know what it's like when you know, without a doubt, that someone is so special you would go to the ends of the earth for them. That they're more precious than anything imaginable. That—

"Chloe!" he practically yelled it. Some people looked his way, but he didn't really care.

Chloe's brow was furrowed. "You can't bottle up your feelings inside forever, Lex."

"And what sort of feelings are you insinuating that I have, Chloe?" he asked, ticked off. He didn't like her prying on such a sensitive subject.

"Fine, Lex, fine. Pretend you don't know what I'm talking about," she was annoyed and slightly hurt and he knew it. He felt a little bad. "Whatever."

She picked up her coat, books, and coffee and made to leave.

"I'm sorry," he said to her quietly and in earnest.

She froze without looking at him, acknowledging she heard him. After that small pause, she went on her way, leaving him alone.

It went without saying that it was hard on her, hanging out with Clark and Lana all the time. He shouldn't have been so harsh on a kindred spirit.

Later that week, Lex sat in his study on the couch with a drink in his hand. He stared into the flames of the fire as they danced an almost wicked dance. The sounds of a violin filled the air, singing a sad, sweet tune. The tune matched his soul, melancholic.

Lionel burst into the room, breaking him out of his reverie. A broad, content smile was on his face. He looked as closed to chipper as Lionel Luthor ever was.

"What's the matter with you?" Lex asked, noting his father's curious mood.

"Nothing," Lionel replied. "Though, I was just made aware of the most curious thing."

"Go on."

"An attempt was made to destroy the Kawatchee caves by an obscure cult from Granville. The fiends were thwarted by none other than your friend Clark Kent."

Lex smiled, but inside he felt a small, yet distinct amount of resentment that he knew he shouldn't feel. "Sounds about like him. He always seems to be there to save the day. It's not exactly the first time this has happened."

"Oh, that's right. He saved your life, did he not?" Lionel asked. He looked thoughtful and said, "remind me to send him some Sharks tickets to show my gratitude."

"I wonder what he was even doing down there," Lex pondered out loud. It was strange that Clark would even be down in those caves. To his knowledge, very few people knew of them.

"Clark has been hanging around the caves off and on, usually late at night." Lionel walked over and poured himself a drink. "I thought you knew about that."

"No, I didn't," Lex admitted.

"That's curious," Lionel replied. "I thought you two were rather close."

"We are."

"Then, why didn't he tell you about studying the caves?"

"I don't know."

"It's because he has something to hide, Lex. Everyone does, but I have a feeling Clark Kent has some pretty unusual secrets."

"What are you talking about?"

"Hasn't his knack for heroics ever made you wonder about him?"

Lex tensed. It was true. He often wondered how Clark always managed to be in the right place at the right time.

"The boy has never been sick a day in his life, Lex," his father told him, sitting beside him.

Lex laughed, "I haven't been sick in well over a decade, but it doesn't make me special, Dad."

Lionel shrugged.

"But, out of curiosity, what else did you find on him?"

"He's adopted, you know."

"Yes, I knew that."

"Doesn't that ever make you wonder about his origins?"

"No," Lex replied, soberly. It had long been Lex's philosophy that a man shouldn't be judged on who his father was. He really didn't see what Clark's real father had to do with anything.

"Maybe you should read up more on the caves," Lionel suggested. That smug smile crept back onto his face once more. With that, he left for the ballet in Metropolis, leaving Lex to commence in what he thought would be an evening of solitude.

Between his drink and the soporific sound of the violin, Lex began to feel drowsy. He was just nodding off when someone burst through the door. His eyes shot wide open and he found Lana. She looked shaky and tears were falling from her eyes. She was wringing her hands nervously; she seemed broken.

"Lana," he breathed. What was she doing there? He walked over to her, concerned, "Lana, what's wrong?"

She flung her arms around him and began crying even harder. She whispered, "I didn't know who else I could talk to."

"You can tell me anything," he assured her, holding her as tightly as she was clinging to him. She let go after a moment, and he led her gently by the hand to the couch.

She wiped her eyes and stared at him boldly. "It's Clark."

Lex braced himself, readying himself for whatever he might hear. "Go on."

Her words were hurried and muffled by her sobs. "We had a fight. He was rushing off to do whatever he does and I asked him what it was and he said he couldn't say. It pretty much escalated from there."

He gently wiped away some hair from her eyes, taking in her story. What did it mean?

"What have I done wrong, Lex?" she asked, helplessly, tears streaming freely from her eyes. "What is wrong with me?"

He cupped her cheek in his hand and looked her deep in the eyes, trying not to lose himself in the moment. "There is nothing wrong with you. Nothing."

"Then why can't he just be honest with me?"

Lex couldn't answer that. It killed him that she was blaming herself for issues that were solely Clark's.

"What would you do if you cared about someone a lot—loved them even—but, you felt as though they were keeping things from you?"

"Um," Lex said, trying to mask his hurt at hearing that sentence. He swallowed. "Well, honesty is quintessential to any successful relationship. If I was involved with someone dishonest, I would think I wasn't seeing the real them—that I was in love with a lie."

Lana's lip trembled. "I've known him my whole life, Lex. I'm not even sure of what I don't know."

"You've got to decide, then," he said, trying his hardest to give her unbiased advice. "Can you stay with someone who may never let you in on his secrets?"

"I honestly don't know," she admitted. Her brow furrowed. "I just wish things weren't this complicated. They shouldn't have to be."

"No, they shouldn't," he agreed.

Taking him aback, Lana leaned her head on his shoulder and said, "you're always here for me, Lex. Sometimes I think I don't deserve it."

"You deserve the best, Lana," was his sincere reply.

He felt horrible for preaching about the truth when there was one secret—a very important one—he hid from her. He promised himself that he would tell her. He just had to wait for the right time.