Part 10: we all fall down

There had only been one crystal.

One crystal to turn back the hands of time and undo what had been taken from him.

One chance. One life. One time.

Clark sneered to himself as he thought back on Jor-El's warning. A warning he had blatantly ignored; too intent on relieving the incredible ache in his heart to heed such things.

Selfishly, he had taken the respite and in doing so had saved the life of the girl he loved.

Clark frowned as nostalgia crushed him, his good friend hindsight now firmly entrenched in his psyche as grief gave way to rage.

And once again he let himself remember.

How he'd managed to save her twice. The swell of relief that had rolled over him at seeing her alive. Remembered the sweet smell of victory overwhelmed by the green monster of loathing.

He'd reviled seeing Lana with Lex, watching them revel in the near miss of another accident. He'd wanted to speed over to them and take credit for his sacrifice. But instead he'd forced himself to just walk away.

Only to have fate laugh in his face as nature fought the balance of mortality.

It had snowed the day they'd buried his father. The soft fall of white a comforting shield from the prying eyes of the ignorantly ungrateful. The coldness a bitter reminder of the guilt he felt for putting his own wants above realistic expectations.

For no one can change the hands of fate – not even Superman.

So he'd watched the hands of his mother shake with grief. Had clasped them in his hands of steel, and tried to make amends for killing his own father.

It was her unconditional understanding and love that had twisted the knife in his gut. Anger had simmered up beyond his control, and he'd silently condemned himself from ever having what he wanted again. Instituted his very own form of purgatory as means for penance.

Thus he was unable to even look at her – the girl his father had unknowingly died for – as he'd watched the casket disappear into an unforgiving Earth.

Eventually, her hand had fallen from his, and she had silently walked away. Just when he'd been on the verge of screaming at her, of roaring his discontent at the trade he had no choice but to accept. A choice incomprehensible to those not acquainted with the extent of his abilities.

But someone did understand.

Mostly.

Chloe had been the first to come to him, his perpetual best friend, his rock in girl clothing. She didn't judge him, didn't scold him, just pulled him close to her and did her best to soothe his hurts.

She was just like his mother – all soft light and gentle hands.

Clark smiled fondly. Fleetingly. Then squashed contentment to make way for the allure of wrath.

A few days after burying his father, Clark had had another wake-up call.

Another painful reminder that destiny will not be made a fool of. A sign that the pain of losing his father, the agony of knowing he'd traded one life for another had been pointless.

Because once again, fate had reared its ugly head, confirming that all of it – had been for nothing.

For Lana had ended up dead anyway.

Her body had been found in a Metropolis brothel, mutilated and bound, her hair hacked off and shoved down her throat, a mysterious symbol etched into her back with a razorblade.

Due to the careful detail involved in her death, the police determined that the perpetrator must've had a personal vendetta against the young girl. At first Clark couldn't think what would cause someone to hate with that much purpose – until he was once again reminded of his own rage. Realized that the loss of someone close could make even the best of people do the damnedest of things.

And so it was, two weeks after Jonathan Kent was laid to rest, the intricate urn of Lana Lang was buried with her parents.

There'd been no snow, no sun – just silence. Pure, deafening silence, punctuated by the raspy breath of tears.

Chloe had attended the funeral with him, her hands soft on his arm, her voice murmuring reassuringly throughout the burial. Someone has shushed her once, but one sharp look from her had put a stop to any further chiding. She wouldn't let anyone deter her from comforting him.

Clark smiled as he recalled the shocked looks her language had earned. He cleared his throat, quickly sobering lest anyone think he was amused by the most recent tragedy. He glanced around quickly, relieved that no one was paying him any notice.

Let himself get lost in his thoughts once again.

After Lana's funeral Clark had asked Chloe if she felt the fates would ever be satisfied. She'd just looked at him and smiled, rolling her eyes at him affectionately as she blatantly ignored his query. She'd always hated his endless stream of shoulda, coulda, woulda, and she'd never had a problem working around his what-ifs.

But not that time. That time he'd glared at her stubbornly and quickly reworded the question, asking her if she had ever felt burdened or fearful since knowing his secret.

He'd had to know how she felt, terrified that knowing his secret was a curse she did not want.

Her words still echoed in his head, torturing him calm in the face of anguish.

Whether or not I feel burdened or fearful is irrelevant. What's to come will come regardless of how I feel about it, and dwelling on it won't make it any easier to accept. I just have to take comfort in the fact that in the end, I did not cave under pressure. I was resilient and good for my word, and if nothing else I'll have left my mark where it counts. In the hearts and memories of those who love me.

Clark's face crumpled slightly at the memory, emotion briefly overwhelming him. He cleared his throat, putting his fisted hands into the deep pockets of his heavy wool overcoat. He shivered slightly, not from the bitterness of winter, but from the knowledge that life and death will not be controlled. Not by him. Not by anyone.

He took a deep breath, raising his head and peering at the familiar faces surrounding him. Friends and family, all gathered to pay their last respects to another life ended too soon.

He spotted his mother standing with the minister, her hands wringing a handkerchief tensely, looking tired and years older than she ever had before, her eyes dulled slightly from the pain of dealing with one tragedy after another. She looked up, her eyes meeting his sharply, and she arched a brow at him meaningfully. She hated his self- deprecating side and her gaze was quite telling in the fact that she knew what he was doing.

Clark sighed heavily, shaking his head slightly as he forced himself to quit staring at him mother. He scanned the crowd again, his gaze coming to rest on the one person he never thought he'd see there.

Lex.

Clark frowned, his jaw clenching painfully as he glared at his former friend. He was shocked to see him here, even a little amazed that the young billionaire had enough gall to show his face.

Clark looked around again, sneering inwardly that no one was paying any heed to the lone Luthor in the crowd. As if he belonged there among the grievers, among those who loved her the most.

Clark looked him up down. From his sleek bald head, to his expensive shoes, Lex radiated wealth and stature. Deception and greed.

Then Clark focused on the bouqet of flowers in his hand, raising his brows slightly as he pondered Lex's reason for bringing them in the first place. Wanting to know his to when end the flowers would bring.

Clark frowned slightly, not quite able to make out the blooms Lex carried with him. He moved forward, silently walking towards Lex, taking stock of each flower as he recognized it.

He stopped a short distance from him, the meaning of each flower flashing through his mind, contradicting yet revealing at the same time. He catalogued them mentally, taking stock individually.

A yellow rose, vibrantly in full bloom. I love you. Undying lover. Platonic love. Friendship

A Gardenia. Secret love.

A white Chrysanthemum. Truth.

A large Calla lily. Beauty.

A delicate spray of Forget-Me-Not. Do not forget. Memories.

A plump burgundy Amaranth. Immortality.

A pink carnation. I'll never forget you.

Clark focused on the pink carnation. Seeming so out of place amongst the vast array of flowers. So common and understated. Certainly not up to a Luthor's standards of a proper statement.

Clark shivered slightly, the implication of the assortment of flowers in Lex's hand not sitting well with him. Surely he couldn't have been that blind. Surely he would've known if Lex had been in love with his best friend.

Clark shook his head sharply. It wasn't possible. Lex held no real emotion for anyone. Why would this time be any different?

Scowling again, Clark put his own pain aside.

Quietly closed the distance between him and his former friend.

Ready to face the inevitable.

And perhaps face the truth.

He felt someone walk up beside him.

Ignored them in the hopes they'd go away.

He'd felt Clark watching him from a distance. Felt his accusing eyes on him for the last few minutes. Repressed his urge to walk up to him and shake him for his presumptuous idiocy.

Sighing resignedly he finally turned his head, leveling the unwanted visitor with a reproachful stare.

"Clark." Lex said evenly.

"Lex." Clark replied, his voice wavering slightly.

Lex didn't really want to talk to Clark, but seeing no way around it decided to try idle conversation. "How's Lois?" he asked casually.

Clark looked at the ground, his brow furrowing as he responded. "She's recovering quickly." He said. "They expect she'll be released within another week."

"That's good." Lex said neutrally, his gaze once again on the casket before him. "Does she know what happened yet?"

"Yes. I told her and she didn't take the news well."

"That's to be expected." Lex replied. "How is she now?"

"She's devastated." Clark replied. "And she feels responsible for what happened."

Lex frowned. "Responsible? Why would she feel responsible?"

"Because she was the one driving at the time of the accident." Clark explained. "Lois feels she'd still be alive if she'd reacted differently."

"That's ridiculous." Lex responded. "I saw the police report, Clark, and someone intentionally set them up to crash. Someone wanted one or both of them dead."

"Yeah, that's what the investigating officer said. But why would anyone want either of them dead?"

"There's a method to everyone's madness, Clark, even if no one else can grasp the motive." Lex answered calmly. "But don't worry. Justice has been served. I made sure of it."

Clark's eyes widened worriedly. "What do you mean, Lex?" Clark gasped. "What did you do?"

"It doesn't matter. Just know that the person who did this didn't go unpunished."

Clark nodded sharply, disapproval quickly overrun by the need to have her killer brought to justice. No matter what definition of justice a Luthor might use.

Lex watched Clark come to terms with the latest revelation, his jaw relaxing as he accepted the fate of a murderer. He'd figured he'd lecture him on the rights and wrongs of retribution, or at the very least give him a self righteous rant on taking the law into his own hands.

But Clark said nothing. Just stood there, his gaze thoughtful on the casket.

And Lex wanted to hurt him. Wanted to punish him for taking her for granted. Wanted to punish himself for not being everything that she'd needed him to be while there was still time.

So he curled his lip in a snarl.

Let loose an anvil of words in which to slay the enemy.

"Hard to believe, isn't it?" Lex asked coldly, his eyes intent on Clark's face.

Clark met his intense gaze squarely, "What?" he asked.

Lex's eyes narrowed accusingly, "That even with all your abilities, you still couldn't save her."

Clark's head snapped back as if Lex had physically struck him. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Clark asked incredulously.

"I think you know, Clark." Lex said dangerously.

Clark frowned deeply, his features suddenly wounded, his shoulders sagging slightly in defeat. "She told you."

"No, she didn't tell me anything, Clark. Rest assured she never gave up any confidence of yours. She was always loyal to a fault when it came to you." Lex sneered at him, his lip twisting savagely. "Not that you ever gave her any credit for being faithful to you."

Clark blinked at him, his eyes wide and heavy with grief. "And what about you, Lex? All you ever did was use her. Then as soon as she'd served your purpose, you discarded her."

Lex's eyes narrowed, his anger increasing as Clark's ignorance came to the forefront. He hated that everyone thought they knew what had happened between them. Everyone's assumptions that they were at odds. Assumptions that he didn't care for her, when in reality he loved her so much he hurt with it.

And he'd had enough. There was nothing left for him now. No pride. No love. Nothing.

So he looked Clark in the eye. Told the truth.

"You may have read and heard everything about me, Clark, but don't assume you know me."

"I don't have to assume. I was there, remember?" Clark glared at him, his eyes condemning and unforgiving. "I saw how you wounded her. Why do you think we're no longer friends?"

"I know why we're no longer friends, Clark, and I can assure you no woman has ever been of any consequence in the demise of our friendship."

"Really? Well, maybe you should explain it to me then."

Lex stared at him, shaking his head in disbelief. Clark really seemed oblivious to the reasons why they were no longer friends, content to believe it had something to do with a third party instead of the more obvious reasons. "You seriously expect me to believe you don't know why we're at odds?" Lex asked dubiously.

Clark scowled at him, but remained silent.

Lex snorted then shook his head in disgust. He couldn't see any reason in arguing with Clark, since he knew he'd never admit he'd ever done anything wrong. "You just tell yourself whatever makes you sleep at night." Lex said tiredly.

"Yeah, whatever, Lex. Like I'm going to believe anything that comes out of your mouth anyway." Clark scoffed.

"Well, it looks like we're at an impasse – again." Lex said smoothly. "You don't believe me, I don't believe you, and neither of us will be changing the other's mind."

"That's for sure." Clark ground out.

"And since we agree on that, let's just call it done."

Clark peered at him questioningly. "Call what done?"

"Our friendship, Clark. Let's just call our friendship over and done with." Lex said smoothly. "I will refrain from bothering you in the future, and you can make sure to not need my help with anything ever again."

"Fine. Consider it done then." Clark snarled, moving to walk around Lex.

Lex smiled wryly then said to Clark's retreating back. "One more thing before you go."

Clark stopped; his back rigid, his hands once again fisted in his pockets. "What?"

"Do you really believe she still felt the same way about you?"

Clark turned around, his eyes narrowing again as he looked at Lex. "What do you mean?"

"Don't you think it's rather foolish of you to think you're the only man she ever really cared about?"

"And what exactly are you insinuating, Lex?"

"I'm not insinuating anything, Clark. I'm just pointing out the facts." Lex replied mildly. "Her feelings had changed, and you know it. You were just never able to accept it as truth."

"I never had to accept her affections for someone else because she never actually pursued anyone."

"That you know of." Lex murmured.

Clark eyed him skeptically, his brow furrowing in annoyance. He sighed heavily, running a hand over his face tiredly as he muttered. "I don't have time for your little games, Lex. If you have something to say, just say it."

"I'm just telling you what's been in front of your face for a long time. Confirming what you were too blind and selfish to realize."

"And that would be?"

"That in spite of taking care of your every whim for the past few years, she was able to have something strong and worthwhile." Lex replied, raising his brows at Clark before continuing. "With me."

Clark's eyes widened, his jaw dropping slightly as Lex's words washed over him. He frowned slightly, his body tensing as he pondered the significance of what he was hearing. Finally he snorted, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "That's great, Lex. I'm glad she had something strong and worthwhile with you." Clark paused and smirked at him coldly. "But it's really too bad it wasn't so deep and meaningful that she felt a need to share the relationship with the people who loved her."

"She wanted to, but there were extenuating circumstances which prevented that from being possible."

Clark rolled his eyes at him mockingly. "Is that what you tell all the girls, Lex? Is that how you get them to let you fuck them over and over again? By coming up with a relationship based on excuses and conditions and labeling it as meaningful?"

Lex took a step towards Clark, his hands fisting at his sides angrily, his voice thick as he responded. "Not with her, Clark, never with her."

Clark gasped in astonishment, the latest revelation obviously startling him. "I can't believe you expect me to believe this. That you expect me to believe she'd ever care for the likes of you. She knew first hand what a snake you are. She even told me so on a few occasions."

"She loved me regardless of my faults and your opinion of me." Lex said quietly, smiling wistfully at the thought of her. "She wasn't the type of woman to love only part of a man. She loved all of me – even the dark side."

Clark snorted again, shaking his head in disbelief. "Yeah, but I know you, Lex, and I know that would never have been enough for you because you would have always been tortured by the knowledge that she loved me first. You would have always doubted her and wondered where her true loyalty stood."

"You're wrong, Clark, because it's not a matter of who she loved first, but a question of who she loved best, and in that I am most assuredly the victor."

"I don't believe that." Clark said obstinately.

Lex just smiled at him mockingly. "Of course you don't, Clark, but that doesn't make it any less true."

"How is that possible?" Clark asked in amazement, his eyes sparking with questions and anger. "You never had any kind of real relationship with her. All you ever did was use and manipulate her, and she was far too smart to fall for your kind of games."

Lex smirked fondly, "Oh I won't argue with you on that one, Clark. She was definitely too smart to fall for my kind of games." Lex peered at Clark knowingly, his eyes speaking louder than his words. "But she was also smart enough to turn my games around on me, to use my own manipulations against me. And just when she had me over a barrel, she'd go in for the kill." Lex sighed wistfully, his heart clenching violently as he gazed at the casket before him.

"Son of a bitch…" Clark murmured, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "You really loved her…"

Lex's entire body tightened, his face falling into a mask of cold indifference. "It's of no consequence now. She's dead. Gone."

Clark gazed at him in silent wonder, his eyes full of distressed sadness. "I didn't know." Clark said softly.

"You weren't supposed to." Lex answered calmly.

Lex watched the emotions flash across Clark's features. Shock. Denial. Acceptance. Regret.

It was the last one that left Lex wondering, not sure why the knowledge of his true feelings would make him feel any type of sorrow. They weren't friends, hadn't been for ages now, but all of a sudden they had something in common.

The infallible affection of the same woman.

"Lex…" Clark began.

Lex shook his head briskly, "Don't." Lex interrupted.

"But…" Clark tried again.

"No, Clark. I don't want to hear it." Lex said, anger simmering in his voice. He didn't want anyone's pity. Was unable to accept empathy from anyone, certainly not from the likes of Clark Kent.

Clark stepped towards him, grasping him by his shoulder. "No, Lex. You don't understand. I—"

"I said leave it alone, Clark!" he snarled, pulling away from him violently. "I don't want anything from you. Not your acceptance. Not your friendship. Nothing. Just leave me be. Just let it go."

Clark opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it and just looked at him sorrowfully.

But there was something in his eyes that made Lex uneasy. Something uncertain and nameless.

Part of Lex wanted to find out what it was, but the shambled remnants of his pride wouldn't let him. His wounded self still not quite capable of dealing with the tired ramblings of Clark Kent.

So he just averted his gaze, instead focusing once more on the casket as it was slowly lowered into the ground.

He clenched his jaw. His fingers tightening reflexively on the flowers he held in his hand. He held them out in front of him, glaring at them in hatred, wanting to throw them down and stomp on them in his rage. Wishing he could vent his anguish here in front of everyone.

But he didn't.

Instead he walked towards the hole in the frozen Earth.

Allowing Clark to walk beside him.

Lex held his head high as he stood before her grave, silently willing his hands not to shake as he pulled out the white Chrysanthemum and held it out to Clark.

Truth.

Clark took it without question. Raised it to his face, closing his eyes briefly before taking a deep breath and holding the large bloom out in offering. Dropped it silently, watching it fall, eyes pained at the finality of it all.

Clark faced him once more. Nodded curtly. Walked away.

Lex took a deep breath. Not quite ready to let go. Knowing he had no other choice.

Quickly he got his emotions under control, holding the small boucqet out in front of him again.

Took each bloom in hand and dropped it individually.

Each meaning another scar on his heart.

A yellow rose, vibrantly in full bloom.

He her undying lover.

A Gardenia.

A testament of their secret love.

A large Calla lily.

A note towards her beauty.

A delicate spray of Forget-Me-Not.

A pledge that he would keep their memories in his heart.

A plump burgundy Amaranth.

A promise of the immortality of his love for her.

A pink carnation.

His vow that he would never, ever forget her.

Lex watched the last flower fall silently into oblivion, unable to look away.

He stood there for a long time, unmoving, shoulders slumped in defeat.

The agonizing pain in his chest threatening to overtake him.

Silently wishing it would.

But finally he managed to blink.

Once.

Twice.

Took air into his lungs.

Felt his heart beating in his chest.

Forced himself to turn around.

Took a step away from her.

Away from his love.

His possible future.

Silently walked away, pushing back his urge to throw himself in after her.

To follow her into nothingness.

To see her again.

On the other side.