A/N: Cool. I'll run with this. It's mostly just fun, not sappy like my other work (I mean, sappy's my jam, but variety is nice).

There will be some direct quotes here and there throughout. I may or may not actually cite the episodes every single time for this one. It's pretty obvious no one on this site owns anything. (Though just saying, if I was someone who produced original works that became famous enough for people to write fanfic about them, I would be right here with you all, exploring AU scenarios and writing sappy H/C about the characters I killed off in canon. Though I'd probably never tell anyone who I was, 'cause I mean, if a HP fanfic writer claimed to be J.K. Rowling, would you believe them?)

Chapter 2 - Threat

Clark let Lex do most of the talking when the paramedics came. The paramedics looked over them for injuries—Clark figured it was okay, since it was just a glance over—and asked Clark for his parents' phone number.

Lex seemed to be unharmed, other than a few cuts from the broken glass. Clark was at least happy for that. The paramedics gave them both bright red shock blankets, then left them alone, but some police officers took their statements. Again, Clark let Lex do the talking. Clark didn't like lying, even though he had to do it a lot.

"Clark!" His dad came racing down the hill to where Clark was sitting with the blanket. He put one hand on Clark's shoulder and the other to his face. "Son, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." He didn't feel okay, though. His heart was beating harder than it usually did when he ran at top speed. He knew he should be afraid of the stranger he'd saved and what might happen if he turned out to be untrustworthy, but right now, he couldn't think past his fear of his dad's reaction when he found out Clark had revealed his secret.

His dad looked up and yelled to one of the police officers, "Who's the maniac who was driving that car?"

"That would be me." Lex stepped forward and held out a hand. Clark had to admire his courage—Lex looked less nervous than Clark felt. "Lex Luthor."

Clark's dad ignored the outstretched hand, instead taking off his jacket and putting it around Clark's shoulders. "I'm Jonathan Kent. This is my son."

"Dad," Clark said softly.

"What?"

Clark flinched—his dad was already shouting. "He . . . knows."

The look on his father's face was worse than anything he had imagined. "About you?"

"Yeah."

"How?" he hissed.

"I—I can't—" Clark gestured around to the police and paramedics.

His dad stood up straight. "Go on up to the truck." He whirled to face Lex. "You're coming with us, Luthor."

"It's Lex," Lex said softly, but he followed them up to the truck.

There really wasn't room for the three of them to sit comfortably in the truck. Clark sat between his father and the stranger, pressed against both. The ride home was tense and silent, but Clark was thankful his dad wasn't trying to talk about it while driving. He and Lex had already been in one collision today.

His dad was the first to go into the house, closely followed by Clark. Lex hung behind, standing beside the truck, hands in his pockets.

His mom ran up to hug him right away. "Clark! Are you okay, baby?"

"I'm fine." He hugged her back, because it would make her feel better, but pulled away before she could smother him.

His dad called out the front door. "Get in here, we need to talk!"

Lex jogged into the house, though he kept his head down a little.

"Tell me what happened." Clark's dad kept his eyes on Lex, but Clark was pretty sure his dad was talking to him.

"He hit me with his car," Clark said.

"There was some sort of metal coil in the road, I lost control," Lex said.

"You keep quiet."

"Dad."

His dad looked over at him.

"It was an accident. His car hit me, and we both went into the water. He was gonna drown, so I swam down, tore open the roof of the car, and got him out."

Clark did his best to keep his voice calm, like it was no big deal, but that seemed to have an even worse effect. Lex's eyes just kept growing wider, like he was in shock at hearing what he had already seen spoken aloud. Clark's dad's eyes kept narrowing.

"Go upstairs, Clark," his dad finally said.

"But—"

"Now."

When Jonathan Kent had told Lex to get in the car, Lex had obeyed, even thought he had already called for a driver to pick him up from the crash site and bring him back to the mansion. Lex chafed a little at being ordered around by a poor stranger—a farmer, going by his clothes, physique, and place of residency—but he couldn't imagine disobeying. For one thing, Lex owed Clark his life. For another, one didn't simply turn down the opportunity to learn more about what might be the most remarkable being on the face of the planet.

But mostly, Lex didn't dare cross Mr. Kent because he looked like he was ready to kill Lex with his bare hands. Lex knew some basic hand-to-hand combat, but this man was clearly leagues beyond him in terms of raw strength. Lex was sore enough from the whiplash.

Back at the house, Clark spoke so casually about what had happened. As if this type of thing happened all the time. Mr. Kent looked angry, and Mrs. Kent looked worried, but neither of them looked the least bit surprised.

Clark had said no one knew about his abilities except for his parents. Lex wondered if he was the first person to find out. Was that why they had asked him here? Were they willing to kill to keep their secret? Lex pushed the thought aside—killing was something his own father would probably do to keep a secret, but that didn't make it likely. And Clark seemed too calm to be harboring the knowledge that someone was about to be murdered in his living room.

Lex swallowed hard after Clark left the room. "You have an extraordinary boy, Mr. and Mrs. Kent—"

"You'd better be thankful for that, or you'd be responsible for killing him," Mr. Kent snapped.

"Respectfully, sir, I'd be dead."

Mr. Kent was silent for a moment, looking him over.

Lex took a deep breath. "I'd like to repay him. I have money, I—"

"Oh, I know you have money."

Ah. "I take it you know my father."

"We've met, yes."

"My condolences."

Mr. Kent didn't say anything. Mrs. Kent's eyebrows raised, like she wanted to interject, but she kept silent as well.

Lex cleared his throat. "About Clark . . . he saved my life, the least I can do is thank him. Can I buy him a new truck?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because Clark's a good kid, and I don't want this going to his head."

Something smaller, then. "How about a PlayStation?"

"Absolutely not."

"Well, can I . . . get him an ice cream? I owe him my life, the least I can do is—"

"You want to repay us." Mr. Kent took a step toward Lex.

"Yes, of course."

Mr. Kent grabbed a fistful of Lex's shirt at the shoulder—Lex's breath caught. "Forget you ever met my son. Forget what you saw him do. Stay away from my family."

Lex forced himself to take a breath. "It's already forgotten."

"If you ever breathe a word about what happened to any other living soul—"

"I get it."

"—I'll see to it you regret the very day you were born. That's a promise."

Lex had been regretting his own birth since he was twelve, but that didn't make the threat any less effective.

"Are we clear, Luthor?"

"Crystal."

Mr. Kent let go of Lex's shoulder and gave him a shove toward the door. "Get out of my house."