Chapter 2

…

…

It was four in the morning, the moon the only light visible in the sky above Metropolis, and Lex Luthor was escaping.

The window to the Luthor family mansion, the one in Metropolis at least, slid up and open without a sound, kept in perfect condition by the house staff. Lex tugged on the rope in his hands once more, testing that it didn't give even the slightest bit, before sliding himself out the window. He held on to the excess rope so that no one below would have a warning that he was coming, and prayed that he'd remembered how to hook up his harness to the rappel device properly.

He'd stolen the mountain climbing gear from the storage room, where countless millions in purchases made over the years ended up when they were no longer needed. Lex didn't know what half of the stuff was called or what, exactly, they did, but he'd been instructed once upon a time on how to set the entire rig up. So far, hanging two feet out of his bedroom window with a backpack over his shoulder, everything seemed to be going well.

Slowly, Lex lowered himself down the outside of the mansion wall. He'd timed his escape when there would be no guards walking about near his room, but he still kept his eyes and ears peeled. No one came. No one was in any of the rooms he passed on his way down. That made sense. His father had fired half of the staff in the past week. There was hardly anyone for Lex to avoid.

Once on the ground, Lex unhooked the harness and all cords and clips and whatever else from his person. He didn't bother trying to hide any of the equipment. He didn't care if his father knew how he'd gotten out. The point was that Lex was out, free, and he wasn't coming back.

Sneaking out of the yard was almost harder than rappelling down the side of the building. Lex had to dart from bush to tree to bush, and then scale the wall in the exact spot he knew there would be no security camera watching, and land on the other side without hurting himself or drawing attention.

It wasn't easy, but he did it. Then he was breathing free air. Lex took a moment to inhale deeply, hold it, and then exhale all the tension from his body.

Then he ran.

…

…

It was fascinating to watch the city wake up around him. Granted, Metropolis never really slept, but it did calm down in the early hours of the morning, so Lex got to see people leaving their buildings for work and opening their shops. There weren't even many cars on the road at that time of the morning.

Even though he was only twelve, and Lex figured a twelve year old walking alone at five am was pretty unusual, no one stopped him. No one even looked at him for more than a second. Lex thanked his forethought into wearing a wig, since his bald head would've been really obvious. Everyone knew Lex Luthor on sight, usually.

The brighter the sky became, the more people and cars and noise bustled around Lex. He wasn't used to walking for so long, and his feet and legs grew tired long before he reached his destination. His destination was the east terminal bus station. It was the farthest station from the Luthor mansion, which meant a less obvious point of exit from the city. Also, buses were inherently gross and plebeian, so his father would likely have people searching the airport and train stations before moving on to buses. Still, Lex wished he could've afforded to catch a cab to the station or something, but until he turned eighteen, he had very little in the way of funds.

Well, for a Luthor.

He had what he'd earned doing odd jobs for his mother and the staff, which he'd invested with help from his mother and earned a tidy sum from, but his father had put an end to such nonsense the moment he told Lex he would soon attend Excelsior Academy.

Lex turned a corner and ran into a heavyset man in an ill-fitting suit. "Oof!"

"Watch where you're going," the man snapped, shoving past Lex to continue on his way.

Lex stood in shock for a few long moments. No one had ever talked that way to Lex before – except for his father. Most people were too afraid of Lionel to be rude to his son. This was proof that he wasn't recognized. This was proof he could really do this – be on his own without fear of being sent home.

Grinning, Lex hefted his bag further up on his shoulders and trudged on.

…

…

An hour later, Lex's luck ran out.

The bus station was in view. He'd made it. Soon he'd be able to sit down, rest his feet, and jet across the country, away from his father and Excelsior Academy and Oliver Queen and everything that was shitty in his life now.

Then, just as Lex went to cross the street to the station, a hand landed on his shoulder. "Excuse me, son, can I have a moment?"

Irritated, Lex turned around to snap out an admittedly rude No, but stopped when he saw the blue uniform the woman was wearing. His mouth shut with an audible click of his teeth. "Officer," he said softly.

She nodded. "May I ask where your parents are?"

"You can ask, but I don't have to answer," Lex told her simply.

Now frowning, the cop said, "I really must insist you do. We get a lot of runaways here in Metropolis and it's not a safe place to be on your own. You could get hurt, or worse."

Lex was frowning too. "I can handle myself. Trust me." He shook his head. "And I'm not a runaway."

The lie slid from his tongue easily. It was so matter-of-fact that even the cop took a moment to consider its validity. Lex met her eyes the entire time.

She let out a short sigh. "Either way, no one your age should be wandering around Metropolis on your own. Let me call your parents."

From her pocket she pulled a cell phone. It was clunky looking, but Lex knew that within a few years, cell phones would be powerful machines capable of more than anyone thought a phone could do. But he'd sat in on meetings with companies set on making the phones of the future, so Lex probably knew more about their development than any other twelve year old on the planet.

"What's your phone number?"

How could Lex get himself out of this one? He could give a false number, then bolt while she called. But then she would report him and they'd look at the surveillance footage of this street corner. They'd likely see him board a bus shortly after losing the cop's trail. When his father started looking for Lex, as he would within the next two hours, there would be a story circulating among the police about a boy Lex Luthor's age at this bus station. His entire plan would be scrapped.

"Excuse me, officer?"

Both Lex and the officer turned and found a tall, broad shouldered young man – he looked somewhere between seventeen and twenty – standing just to Lex's left. His hair was black and his eyes were green behind square frame glasses that really did nothing for his otherwise attractive face. And boy was he big. Even under two layers of shirts, the muscles in the guy's arms and chest were obvious. And yet, somehow, he gave off an unassuming air, as if he'd never hurt a single person in his entire life.

Lex might've gone a little shaky in the knees.

"Good morning," the officer said to the man. "Sorry, unless it's an emergency, could you give me just a few minutes? I have to make a phone call for this young man."

The broad shouldered man shook his head. "No, see, that's the thing. He's my brother. Pete."

All of Lex's higher brain function died for approximately three seconds. He was what now?

The teen gave an embarrassed smile that would've disarmed a terrorist. "We're in town just for the weekend and I was supposed to take him to the Tech Fair-," he motioned down the street where, just visible, flags were posted outside of a building promoting said technology convention, "-yesterday but I didn't. When I woke up today he was gone so I figured he must've gone this way to attend it today on his own, so I followed him, and I was right. So you see, I'm so sorry if he caused you any problems because he's my brother and my responsibility and I failed at that."

He gave a bow that startled the cop. She nearly dropped her phone.

Clearly flustered, the cop said, "Well then." She cleared her throat. "Make sure he doesn't run off again then. A lot of kids his age are kidnapped right off the street, especially late at night or early in the morning, like now."

Looking chagrined, the guy said, "I know. He doesn't usually run off." The look he shot Lex really did seem like one from one ticked off brother to his sibling, and Lex took a half step back before the man's hand landed on his shoulder. "I'll stay with him from now on. I promise. And thank you so much for all the hard work you do, officer."

Now flushing at the compliment from this attractive young man, the officer nodded. "Well, you two have a nice day. And behave yourself from now on, Pete, you hear me?"

Lex barely remembered respond to that name; to nod and say, "Yes, ma'am."

When the police officer was gone, the older teen turned his attention on Lex. He narrowed his eyes in a way that suggested he was trying to be sly as he asked, "So, who are you, really? And what are you doing out here all by yourself?"

There was a moment when Lex considered lying, but this guy had just helped him escape being sent home without causing a scene. He deserved something for that.

"My name is Alex," he said. "And I'm just enjoying a bit of freedom."

The guy crossed his muscled arms across his muscled chest and nodded. "I'm Clark. What do you mean, freedom? Are you really a runaway?"

Glancing around to make sure no one was close enough to eavesdrop – and really no one was nearby period – Lex said, "My father is a particular sort of parent. The kind you want to get away from and never go back."

Clark was frowning now, as if he regretted stopping that cop from calling Lex's parents. "Just because stuff isn't perfect at home doesn't mean you have to run away. Can't you and your dad work it out?"

Lex gave a bark of bitter laughter. "Not likely." He shifted his feet. "Look, thank you for your help, but I need to catch a bus."

"Where are you headed?" Clark asked.

If it wasn't clearly impossible, Lex would've thought that Clark was going to run and tell Lionel the destination of Lex's bus as soon as it pulled out of the station. "West," was all he admitted.

Clark nodded, then stared at Lex with a pensive expression. He just stared, and stared, for several long seconds. Just as Lex was about to shoot out a goodbye and leave, Clark asked, "Do you wanna catch a movie?"

"Excuse me?"

…

…

Eating breakfast had, unsurprisingly, not been near the top of Lex's to do list when running away from home. In fact, he hadn't planned for food almost at all. That, and only that, was the reason why he had allowed for Clark to take him to a movie – wasting three hours of his getaway time but also letting his feet rest – and then to a diner for food when Lex's stomach started to cause him physically detrimental pain.

The absolute only reason.

Watching Lex take small, almost dainty, bites of his eggs and sausage, Clark gave a gentle smile that could rival the sun for warmth, as if his plans for the day had always been to take Lex to breakfast and a movie. It made Lex's cheeks heat in a way that wasn't at all unpleasant.

No. It was completely unpleasant. When Lex was done eating he would ditch Clark and head for the bus, like he'd originally intended.

"So," Clark began, sipping at the coffee he'd purchased in lieu of food, "why are you running away? What's so bad you had to escape?"

It wouldn't be terrible to tell someone about his home life, Lex thought. As long as he kept it vague, no one should be able to track him back there – especially not Clark. Clark looked like he lifted things for a living, not like a detective or investigative reporter. Besides that, no one had ever asked him about why his life was bad before.

"My mom died two weeks ago," Lex said, doing his best to keep his voice even. He didn't mention his baby brother's demise at the same time. Clark's face fell into obvious distress. "With her gone, my father has decided he can't even stand to look at me. He's always been…less than pleasant, but it's clear now that he simply hates me. So he plans to send me off to boarding school, hoping that it'll teach me to be something other than a failure."

"You-"

Clark stopped almost as soon as he'd started. He and Lex stared at each other for several long moments – someone who was almost a child and someone who was almost an adult – and then the child won. Clark cast his gaze out the window.

He couldn't prove Lex wasn't a failure. That was the short of it. He didn't know Lex. And he had no idea what life was like with Lionel Luthor, so he couldn't deny that Lex's father hated him. He didn't understand how bad 'less than pleasant' was in the Luthor family household. Clark had no idea, so he had to concede the point.

"I used to think my parents regretted adopting me."

Lex looked up from where he'd turned his attention back to his food. Clark was still looking out the window at the people walking down the Metropolis sidewalk. He was adopted?

"It seemed like, no matter what I did, I just caused them more and more problems. I broke things all the time. I cost them money, a lot of money. I even got arrested while trying to help people once or twice." The smile on his face was nostalgic, a bit of humor and a bit of bitterness.

If Lex had been forced to guess, he never would've said that Clark had gotten in trouble with the law. It was the aura around him: all kindness and good will. How could someone like that run afoul of the police? And for helping others?

Shaking his head, Clark looked at Lex. "They never did, though. Regret it, I mean. My whole life, they've always told me how much they're proud of me, how happy they are that I found them, and they found me. But I know that…not all families are like that. I've seen a lot, and I know that sometimes…sometimes family fails you, and sometimes you have to get away in order to save yourself. And I know that it takes a lot of strength to make that decision."

Strength. Lex hadn't thought about that. He'd considered it a weakness to run away from home. He was escaping rather than face Oliver at Excelsior Academy. He was escaping rather than face his father's continued aversion to his own son. But Clark said escaping took strength. Perhaps a strength of character rather than of physical might, then. Someone had to recognize that there was a bad situation and then make a conscious decision, both objectively and emotionally, to leave that situation.

This escape still felt like weakness to Lex, but he was grateful for the vote of confidence.

Clark paid for their food and then they left the diner behind. Although it hadn't been part of his plan, Lex followed Clark farther from the bus station. There was something about him that made Lex feel safe; as if everything was okay as long as Clark was there. And it wasn't the size of his muscles.

"So," Clark asked after they'd walked a block in silence. "What are you going to do with yourself when you get…uh…wherever it is you're going?"

Lex glanced up at Clark's face, farther above his own than he expected, and then glanced around at the other people on the street, keeping an eye out for anyone who might be working for his father. "Rent an apartment. Enroll myself in an online schooling program. Get a part-time job. Eventually, probably after graduation, join a science industry, prove myself a genius, take over the company within four years, and turn it into the most successful scientific business in the industry, creating cures for disease and answers to problems like drought, famine, and war, eventually leading to space travel and colonies on other planets."

Clark stopped walking, so Lex did too.

"That's…really specific," he said, looking down at Lex with an odd expression. Lex couldn't tell if Clark was apprehensive about him now, or hesitantly proud of him.

A shrug. "My dad basically wants me to take over the world," Lex told him. "I just like science. And I want to be…," saying 'a hero' would sound childish, "—helpful to people."

After a moment more of staring, Clark let out a soft huff of laughter. "I don't have a clue what I'm gonna do after I graduate, and you've got your entire life planned out." He laughed again.

"I don't see why you can't help people too," Lex said. He motioned to Clark. "You helped me today, with that cop, and you've got the build for a veritable hero." The shoulder-to-hip ratio of a Dorito.

Clark rolled a shoulder and then hunched, as if doing so would make his bulk less apparent. Somehow, it did. He looked smaller, less imposing, less heroic. It wasn't just the hunch in his shoulders either. There was something gentler about his face too.

"I don't know about hero," Clark said. "I like helping people, but heroes get a lot of attention." He gave a single shake of his head. "Your dad told you to take over the world?"

It wasn't the smoothest transition, but Lex allowed it because talking about Clark being a hero obviously made him uncomfortable. Lex wasn't sure why. Heroes were practically worshipped in comics and movies. He nodded at Clark's question.

"That seems like kind of a tall order for a kid," Clark reasoned, frowning.

Lex drew himself up to his full height – short as that was – and puffed out his chest. "Alexander the Great did it. He started his campaign at only twenty and had conquered the world by thirty."

It looked like Clark had some choice words to say about that, but he never got to say them.

Something collided with Lex from the right, catapulting him into the alley between two tall apartment buildings. Lex's first thought as he hit the ground was that he was glad he had landed out of sight of the street, because anyone seeing him sprawl haphazardly on the hard ground of the alley, and anyone who heard the squeaking whimper of noise he let out upon landing, would likely never see him as a respectable adult, even if they watched him grow to be thirty-five and president of the United States.

Then he realized that it hadn't been a thing that hit him. It was a person. It was three persons, actually. One had collided with Lex while two had driven Clark into the alley as well.

"What?" Lex let out, still on the ground.

Three knives made guest appearances in the hands of the three men. "Empty your pockets. Empty your pockets or else."

A robbery. A robbery that could turn into a mugging if these guys put their minds to it. Lex felt frozen in place, unable to even stand up. He had a good chunk of money with him, in his bag. It hadn't seemed like much, not for a Luthor, only a minute ago. Now he felt like the foolish millionaire, walking around with a few thousand dollars in his pockets and being shocked when the impoverished robbed him.

Lex didn't even get enough time to work himself up into a proper panic. Only moments after he realized he was about to lose everything he had on him – and thus all his plans for escaping his father – there was a flash of color and the knives were gone. Clark, standing next to Lex in the middle of the pseudo-circle made by their attackers, held up one of the blades in his right hand while the other two rested in his left.

"How'd you-"

The knife was bent beyond recognition in Clark's grip. Another blink of an eye and all three weapons clanged to the ground in crumpled balls, like paper thrown toward a trashcan that missed.

The would-be assailant behind Lex and Clark, the one who had shoved Lex, turned to run. He didn't get far before Clark was suddenly before him. Clark knocked him into the wall hard enough to dent the brick and the guy fell to the ground and didn't get back up. Then, as the other two were realizing what had happened and also turned, to run back toward the main street, Clark grabbed them by the collars of their shirts. He pulled them back and then…it looked like he barely tapped them with the palm of his hands, but both men were knocked immediately unconscious.

Lex was still sitting on the ground, jaw on the floor, heartbeat racing.

"You….You just…." One day, Lex would be a smooth talker, but it was not that day. "How did you-How did you do that?"

Mouth a thin line and expression clearly worried, Clark reached down to help Lex to his feet. Despite just manhandling the muggers like they were made of paper, the grip he had on Lex's hand and the strength he used to pull Lex up felt normal, like any other person on the planet might have.

"I—," Clark stopped, closed his eyes. "Can you keep a secret, Alex?"

Well, his name wasn't Alex, not technically, so Lex figured that was evidence enough right there. "Yes."

"Like, a really, really big secret?" Clark clarified, opening his eyes and fixing an extremely earnest gaze directly on Lex. "A life-changing, world-changing secret?"

Okay, now Lex had to know. He fought not to smile – that would be showing his hand – but his lips still twitched up. "I won't tell. I promise."

Leaning over so that his head was level with Lex's, Clark took a deep breath. "I might…be an alien."

An alien.

An alien from outer space.

An alien from outer space who had super powers.

An alien from outer space who had super powers and liked to help people.

"You're Warrior Angel," Lex breathed out.

Clark blinked slowly once, nonplussed. "Well, I'm not-"

"Can you fly?"

Another pause. "Uh…no. I mean, sometimes I think I-but no. No. I haven't-I can't fly."

Well, you couldn't have everything, Lex reasoned as he shrugged. "You're super fast and strong. And you've now saved me twice in one day. That makes you a hero to me. Not only that – a superhero."

Now visibly uncomfortable, Clark glanced around. He started in surprise at the unconscious forms around them. "Oh, right. Uh. How about we continue this somewhere else?"

They moved to a nearby park and sat on a bench together. It was almost lunch time now, though Lex had just eaten and wasn't nearly hungry yet. The park, though small compared to other recreational areas in Metropolis, was bustling with people out for a lunchtime stroll, walking their pets, or taking their kids out for the day. Oddly enough, the public space and the noise made the conversation between Clark and Lex almost private.

"Look, maybe I've got powers similar to Warrior Angel, and maybe I've helped people before, but I don't know that I'm a hero," Clark said.

Lex had one leg curled up on the bench so he could fully face Clark. His bag sat on the ground by his other foot. "That humbleness is also like a proper hero," he said, smiling. "Superpowers and humility and a desire to help. That's more than enough to be a superhero, Clark."

Blushing, Clark said, "Still not sure about that, but thanks."

A disbelieving shake of his head reminded Lex that he was still wearing a wig. How ironic. He was sitting next to a bonafide superhero and yet he was the one wearing a disguise.

"Um, speaking of helping, though." Clark pulled a napkin from his pocket. Had that been there since they had breakfast? "I wrote my number on this. So, you know, wherever you end up, if you need help, I'll do what I can. I know we just met, but I want you to know that you don't have to go it alone, okay?"

Lex accepted the napkin and stared at the number written in black pen. It had a local area code. Not Metropolis, but nearby. There was a hero living in Kansas. What were the odds?

"And don't worry if you're too far west," Clark said. "If you need me, I'll be there pretty fast." He smirked, as if his powers were already an inside joke between them.

The thought made Lex's stomach flutter.

Lex slipped the napkin into the smallest pocket on his pack for safe keeping. "Thanks, Clark. This…" He swallowed. "It means a lot."

When Clark moved in for a hug, Lex practically lunged into it. Even through layers of clothing and Clark doing his best to seem unintimidating and to use normal human strength, being in his arms felt like safety. Lex had never felt that safe, ever, in his life. The closest he got was when he remembered being protected, saved, during the meteor shower. Clark had a lot more bulk to him than Lex's mystery savior, though, not to mention the glasses.

"Be safe, Alex."

…

…

Despite knowing that Clark could probably get to Lex in minutes, no matter where he lived, Lex decided that he didn't want to go away. He knew a real hero. His own Warrior Angel. An alien, living in his own backyard. And even though Clark was the super powered one, Lex felt like he needed to stay close – sort of like Clark's backup. The Devilicus to Clark's Warrior Angel, only without the 'going evil' part.

So when he and Clark split ways, instead of heading for the bus station again, Lex hailed a cab and went home.

The guards stationed at the main gates looked surprised to see him, so either they hadn't even known he was gone or they'd never expected him to come back. The lack of police around the mansion suggested the former.

The head of house staff stopped dead upon seeing him, though, so at least someone had noticed he was gone. "Master Alexander," he said, frowning. "Your father is not happy with you."

Swallowing down any fear he had, Lex said, "I know, Frederic. I just…I needed to get out. You know, for a bit."

Frederic shook his head but did not say what Lex could read in his eyes. You should not have come back in. Then the dutiful worker led Lex down the halls and into Lionel's personal study. Lionel was on the phone and sounded angry, but as soon as he saw Lex he snapped, "Never mind. The situation has resolved itself," and hung up.

"Where have you been?" Lionel asked once Frederic had left them alone.

Coming back home so soon had never been in the plans, and Lex had no idea what to say. "I just went out for a bit," he said, repeating his words to Frederic.

Lionel crossed the room quickly, but not nearly as fast as Clark. Still, Lex was unprepared. He flinched, and caught sight of the disgust in his father's eyes when he did, as Lionel lashed out toward him. Instead of striking Lex, as Lex had expected, Lionel grabbed the bag from off Lex's shoulder.

The bag was ripped open and riffled through in quick order. The clothes, comics, money, and even the wig he'd stuffed there while in the taxi were clear evidence of Lex's former plans. Lionel scowled. "Lying to me, as usual," he said, holding the wad of money up and fingering the bills.

He would probably keep the money. All of Lex's savings would be gone. He'd start from scratch. But that was fine. He'd done that before. And he would be much more useful to Clark with the resources of a Luthor, when he became an adult, than he would living on his own in California or Washington.

"I'm sorry, father," Lex said, doing his best to look contrite.

"Not yet you aren't," Lionel snapped, and tossed Lex's bag of belongings into the crackling fire to his right.

Lex jolted, took several steps toward the fire, threw his arms out as if he could stop the bag with his mind, but nothing stopped it from landing amongst the flames. That bag held Lex's least Luthorian clothes. That bag held Lex's favorite Warrior Angel comics. That bag held Clark's phone number, written on an extremely flammable napkin. There was no way it would survive the fire. "No."

"Yes," Lionel said, grinning at Lex's obvious distress.

He'd come back because of Clark. He was going to help him become a hero. He was going to be strong for Clark, because he wanted to stay close to Clark and Clark was super strong so Lex needed to be stronger. But he couldn't even save a phone number from his father.

"You leave for Excelsior Academy first thing in the morning," Lionel informed him dispassionately, pocketing Lex's money. "I'd suggest you go pack your things, but I've already had them packed for you and you obviously cannot be trusted to do it yourself. You'll stay under the careful watch of Dominic until you are safely secured at the academy."

Lex wasn't listening as his father kept talking at him. Not to him, at him.

"It's a weird feeling, being so weak, but I don't think it's permanent. And who knows, maybe I'll be even stronger after this."

It had been almost four years since the meteor shower, but Lex was no stronger now than he was then. He still cowered before his father. He still failed to protect anything that mattered to him. He still had no real friends. He still caved under pressure. He was still weak.

Maybe he wouldn't get stronger after this. Maybe Lex would always be weak, just like his father said, a failure. Maybe this was permanent.

"I'm sorry," Lex whispered.

He didn't know if he was apologizing to the boy who'd saved him from the meteors – as if Lex was worth protecting, or to Clark – Kansas' own personal super hero who saw Lex as someone capable of greatness, or to his father – who had already left the room, or to his mother – for failing to live up to her expectations and escape his father's clutches. He just knew he was sorry, and his heart was breaking with it.

…

…

tbc