A/N: I know I've slowed down a bit on updating this, but I kinda had to rewrite this little plot arc like 3 times. Hopefully it comes across well.

Chapter 20 - Robbery

Lex's breath caught. Clark had talked about meteor mutants, but Lex had encountered far fewer of them personally than Clark had.

One of the men grabbed Clark from behind, and Clark struggled. Strange markings on his forearms glowed green—enough meteor rock content, then, to affect Clark and render him helpless. The men carried full bags. They'd come to rob the mansion, and Clark and Lex had just happened to get in the way.

Lex grabbed a vase from the wall and smashed it against the head of the guy who held Clark in place. The guy fell back, but another grabbed Clark as the third grabbed Lex around the neck. Lex grasped for something on the table, and picked up a letter opener, but apparently this guy was ready for it—the letter opener passed through the guy's arm with no resistance, jamming into Lex's own shoulder. He cried out, and the robber pushed him toward the window.

Lex didn't have time to catch himself. He didn't even have the breath in his lungs to call out for Clark to save him. The stained glass crumbled around him, shards piercing into his arms and back, and then he fell.

This was how he was supposed to have died, ever since that day on the bridge. Falling to his death. Really, he was supposed to have drowned, but perhaps this was just as fair.

The impossibly hard impact with the ground didn't even have the decency to knock him out.

Clark heard the window shatter behind him, but he had problems of his own. One guy had him around the neck; another was repeatedly punching him in the stomach. And it hurt. Though to be honest, the blows were only a small addition to the excruciating burn of the meteor rocks' presence.

Then, for some reason, the guys let go, fleeing the study and leaving Clark gasping on his hands and knees—for a second. Clark felt his skin and muscles stitching back together, healing, and then the pain was gone.

He ran to the window and leaned out of it. Lex lay on his back, one arm twisted at an awkward angle behind his back. His eyes were closed.

"Lex!" Clark raced down the stairs and out to the lawn where Lex had fallen. He knelt down beside his crumpled body. "Oh, no . . . no, no, no . . ."

Lex's eyelids cracked open. "Clark." He lifted his head halfway, then let it drop, wincing.

Clark should have been there. Should have broken free, should have saved him. "Don't try to move. I'll call 911."

"No, Clark, you—you can't."

"And why not?"

"Because your dad will find out." Lex's eyes closed again. "I'll be okay."

"Lex, you just fell from a second story building. You need to go to the hospital."

"I've got a doctor I can call in. I'll just, uh . . ." His less-injured arm reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. It had been crushed in the fall. "Oh. Uh, the number's on a notepad on my desk. Can you go call it?"

Clark nodded and ran up to Lex's study. He took out the cell phone Lex had given him, called the number on the notepad, asked the doctor to hurry, and ran back down to find Lex again.

Beads of sweat stood out on Lex's forehead, and his whole face had turned pale. He breathed hard, his jaw clenching every so often. Clark also hadn't realized how much he was bleeding—little pools of blood soaked through his shirt and sank into the grass behind him

Lex tried to sit up, but Clark kept a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Just relax. The doctor's on his way."

"Thanks, Clark." Lex winced, his eyes shimmering. "Ah, I hate to ask, but . . . could you grab me something for the pain? Bathroom closest to the study. Pill bottle in the cabinet over the sink."

Clark worried that Lex would try to sit up to take the pill—he wasn't sure Lex should be moved.

"Please, Clark. It's . . . it's bad."

"I think the doctor will know better what to give you."

Lex squeezed his eyes shut, and a single tear traced its way down his temple. "You should go home."

"I'm not leaving you here like this."

"Your dad will want to know where you are."

Clark frowned—Lex had always worried about that before because Clark's dad would stop them from visiting each other. With the way they'd left things just before the guys had broken in, Clark didn't know where they stood, or whether they'd be continuing the visits at all. Right now, though, that was the last thing on his mind. He needed to make sure Lex was alright, and to do that, he needed to keep his cover intact. He could decide whether he'd need that cover for the future later.

Clark called the Ross household and asked Pete if he could cover for him if anyone asked where he was. Pete agreed hesitantly, then more enthusiastically when Clark reminded him that he owed him a favor. Then, Clark called his dad and asked if he could stay over at Pete's for the night, if they got their homework done and Clark still did his morning chores. His dad was even more hesitant, but to Clark's relief, he handed the phone over to Clark's mom to make the final decision, and all she did was to ask whether he had a toothbrush and a change of clothes.

When the calls had been made, Clark knelt down beside Lex again. Lex's eyes fluttered open and closed; he breathed hard and grimaced, and a second tear ran down the side of his face.

"Clark, if . . . if I don't make it . . ."

"Don't say that."

"If I don't make it. Tell my father I'm sorry."

"Stop."

"My old nanny I told you about, her name was Pamela Jenkins. Find her and tell her I forgive her."

"Lex—"

"And if you're willing to forgive me . . ." His eyes fluttered closed.

Clark's eyes stung. "Hang on, Lex," he whispered. "Hang in there."

Lex couldn't help thinking he deserved this, after everything he'd done in his life.

His doctor, Toby, gave Lex the all-clear to sit up, and he and Clark helped Lex up to his room, which might have been the longest, most physically painful walk of his life. Toby injected him with some kind of anesthetic, and Lex only barely remained awake while the doctor removed the glass from his back and arms, stitched him up, then gave him a sling for his arm.

When Toby asked about the bruise on his face, Lex glanced up at Clark, whose jaw hung open, frozen. Then Lex said, with cool confidence, "Guy decked me with a wine bottle before throwing me out the window. Lucky it didn't break."

Toby nodded. He left a bottle of pills on the bedside table, ordered Lex to stay in bed for a few days—as if running the plant would allow for that—and left the mansion as soon as Lex promised to send him the payment the next day.

Clark stood a few feet away from the bed, holding himself stiffly. "Uh . . . how is it?"

The pain meds were wearing off fast, but Lex didn't want to lie or worry Clark—especially not after the delirious speech he'd made while lying in his own blood outside of the mansion. He pushed himself into a sitting position, groaning as the stitches pulled. "Need to figure out what was stolen."

Clark shifted his weight. "I can look through the rooms and see where they hit."

"If you wouldn't mind."

Clark disappeared, and Lex's head fell back on the pillow. He drifted into a semi-sleep until Clark re-entered the room.

"I think it's the vault next to your study."

Lex swore under his breath. He didn't really care about most of the items in the vault, but there was a disc with incriminating information. If they'd happened to pick it up and find out about his espionage against his father, they could use it to blackmail him. "Anything left behind?"

"They were pretty thorough."

Lex clenched his teeth. He would have left it alone, if it weren't for the fact that blackmail was going to be involved. Things could get messy fast. "I guess it's too much to ask you to go after them."

"What do they have?"

"A disc with sensitive information."

Clark grimaced. "I would help you, Lex, but those guys were infected by meteor rocks, and there's still enough on them that I can't fight back."

"I know. But they're going to come after me, and . . ." He let his head fall back. "Never mind. This isn't your battle."

It was quiet for a moment, then Clark said, "You can't report them to the police?"

"I don't want the cops to know about the disc, either. Besides, the burglars could walk through walls. Try explaining that to Smallville's finest."

"What's on the disc?"

"Clark—" Lex coughed a few times and tried to sit up straighter, to no avail— "I'm an open book when it comes to anything involving you or the meteor rocks, but this is about protecting the plant. It's not just classified, it's boring." That last bit wasn't true as far as Lex was concerned, but Clark was fourteen. Corporate secrets would mean nothing to him.

"Why is the plant so important?"

"It employs over two thousand people."

"So?"

"Ever had a friend whose parent lost a job?"

Clark's brow furrowed. "Yeah. It was awful, they had to move out of Smallville."

"Now imagine that happened to about a quarter of the families in this town."

"Oh." Clark's eyes widened.

It was quiet for a moment, and Lex didn't feel the need to say any more on that subject. "Ah . . . I have something for you." Lex twisted to reach over toward his nightstand, but his back erupted in pain in six different places, and he gasped.

"No, no, let me get it." Clark walked over to the night stand. "In the drawer?"

"Yeah."

Clark took out a small wrapped package. "This is for me?"

"Uh, yeah." Lex's face felt warm. The present was poorly wrapped—he should have had a servant do it. "It was meant to be a congratulatory gift for getting your powers back."

Clark looked away.

Lex shouldn't have brought that up. They had been making progress. "Just open it."

He did, and looked up in confusion when he saw the small spray cans.

"It's a lead-based paint," Lex said. "Most paint cans spray in a straight line, but this'll spray over a wide area and cover whatever you're aiming at. It'll protect you from the meteor rocks."

"Lex, I—"

"And there's lots more where that came from. I'd love to test it with you, when I'm back on my feet, maybe give you a chance to practice using it . . ."

Lex felt the hope drain out of him as he looked at Clark's face.

It was just as well. Clark's friendship had always been a gift he didn't deserve. "Never mind." He glanced toward the window. "Sun's coming up. Don't you have morning chores?"

Clark looked down at the paint can, then up at Lex. "Thanks for the paint."

Lex half-smiled, and Clark left the room.

A/N: I'm 20 chapters into this story, and I'm right around the midpoint of season 1. Projecting forward, that's, like, 400 chapters to get through the series. On the one hand, I'm gonna keep going on this as long as people are still wanting to read (as I've said, your interest fuels mine). On the other hand, 400 chapters!?

I'm going to try to get a move on, in terms of the content. I'll definitely take a little more time with Zero and Tempest (oh man, I'm so excited . . .), but if there are any season 1 episodes or plot points you want to see me emphasize rather than rush past, feel free to send me those requests. And, of course, I always enjoy your general feedback.