Corner of the World 14: Secrets and Lies

Pete groaned as he flopped on the lunch bench next to Clark. "Ms. Potts is insane. A project worth fifty points? Right after the holidays? It's not fair, man."

Clark shrugged. "It won't be so bad," he said, taking a bite of his sandwich. "It's only a ten minute presentation with your partner on one of the major themes of the book, and some sort of written work that includes the author's history, a concise summary of the plot, and an analysis of the theme. This is the fun project. When we're done with this, we switch books and have to write an essay. That's the boring part. Besides, the books aren't so bad. 'Great Expectations' and 'A Tale of Two Cities' are classics."

Pete rested his head on the table. "Did you know Dickens got paid by the word?" he moaned. "The books are probably way more wordy than they need to be."

"I'm not upset it was assigned; I've been meaning to read 'A Tale of Two Cities' anyway," Chloe said, eating some of her yogurt. "I've already read 'Great Expectations,' Clark. If you and Lana want any help, I'd be willing to offer some suggestions."

"Thanks, Chloe. I remember the book report you gave last year; it was really thorough. But I think Lana and I will be fine. We're not all that bad in English."

"Oh, please, Clark. Spare me the false modesty. You're one of the top students in the class." Turning to Pete, Chloe said, "Look. You're working with me, so we have to get an A. I won't allow us to get anything less. So, I'll help you get through the book. We'll each read a chapter a night to one other, discuss the themes as we go along, take notes and, before you know it, your written report will be done. Not only that, but our presentation will be the best in class."

Clark shook his head. "I don't know. You're going to have to compete against my presentation. I'm pretty good at that part."

Chloe gave him a patronizing smile. "You're ok. For an amateur. I happen to be a professional."

"You get paid to make high school lit presentations?" Lana asked, walking up to the table. "I didn't know you could do that." She sat next to Clark.

The young journalist made a face. "Well, I was speaking more to the quality of my work; I've been told my presentations rival those of business executives. But, I suppose there are ways I could make money. Unfortunately, I don't believe in cheating."

"I agree one hundred percent." Lana sighed. "So, Clark. 'Great Expectations.' You up to it?" She seemed a bit unsure.

"We'll do fine," Clark assured her.

"I know. I just ... I tried to read the book once. I just couldn't get into it. I got as far as the third page. Then, when the convict guy said he could eat Pip's fat cheeks, I couldn't get the image out of my mind. And I got hungry. And that disgusted me, so I put the book down and have never tried again."

Clark laughed. "He said he wanted to eat the kids cheeks? And here I was afraid it was going to be some boring, stuffy book. But if there's cannibalism in it, I'll be fine."

"No cannibalism," Chloe corrected. "But we read "Lord of the Flies," in the next unit. That gets close. You'll love that book."

"I've read it," Clark and Lana said at the same time. Then they looked at each other, smiling shyly.

Clearing her throat, Chloe reached over and stole one of Clark's carrot sticks. "So. Where's Whitney?"

Lana shrugged. "Playing basketball with his friends. The gym was way too stuffy and smelly for me to want to try and eat in there, so I thought I'd join you guys."

"I wish I could play basketball," Pete said, drinking his soda.

"Why don't you drop by the gym?" Lana suggested. "They let just about anyone into the game."

Pete shook his head. "No, I meant I wish I could _ play_. As in, at all. I suck big time. I've tried to get Clark to practice with me, so I could join in the lunchtime games at the very least, but he won't do it."

"How many times do I have to tell you that it wouldn't do any good? I'm worse than you, if that's possible," Clark said, grabbing one of his carrot sticks before Chloe got to it. Then he turned back to Lana. "Did you have a good time while you were away from Smallville, Lana?"

She grimaced as she pulled her lunch out of her backpack. "I guess."

"Where'd you go?" Chloe asked.

"Metropolis. Lionel Luthor called Nell a couple of days before school let out and invited her up for the vacation. They've been spending a lot more time together lately."

"I didn't know they were friends," Pete said.

Lana made a face. "They're a bit more than friends. They've known each other for a long time. Nell tried out to be a cheerleader for the Sharks years ago, and I guess that's how they met. It's not like I didn't know they were ... Well. It's always been really on and off. And Nell has never made it out to be more than it was. But, I don't know; suddenly everything is different. I mean, he asked both of us up, got us great presents for Christmas, showered us with gifts while we were there, took us places when he wasn't working, and generally was really friendly." She licked her lips. "Nell seems happy, but told me not to worry. She said Lionel would never settle down with a nobody from Smallville. They're just really close and really old friends."

"Are you worried?" Chloe asked, stealing another carrot. "I mean, there has to be worse things than having an billionaire take interest in your family."

"Lionel gives me the creeps."

"Lionel's an asshole," Clark said angrily. He took a swig from his milk carton; some of the milk dribbled down his chin. Wiping it away, he ground out, "He should be hit with a really big stick about a thousand times."

The others exchanged looks.

"Well, just because he's a little creepy, doesn't mean ..." Lana started, but Clark didn't let her finish.

"He's not just a little creepy. He's arrogant and stupid and ... cruel. Dangerous. Nell shouldn't let him anywhere near you. Hell, she shouldn't go near him either."

"Clark. Calm down," Chloe said.

"He's just really ... Hey! What was that for?" he demanded, rubbing the shin she had kicked.

"A sharp reminder about where you are," she responded, her eyes narrowed.

Lana looked from one to the other. "Is something going on?"

"I'm as in the dark as you," Pete told her.

Still rubbing his shin, Clark sighed. "No. I just ... I don't like him. And, anyway, Lex told me he was out of the country on business. I'll bet Lionel lied to him."

"He said that Lex decided to stay in Smallville. That there was too much to do at the plant to take it off, even for a day. But ..." Lana bit her lip. "Well, I did want to talk to you about him."

"Who? Lex?" A jolt of trepidation shot through him.

"No," she said slowly, studying Clark. "Lionel. He was asking a lot of questions about you."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It was nothing, at first. He asked me if I knew you, if we were friends. That sort of stuff. I thought it was because you saved Lex, but he kept asking all kinds of questions the whole time we were there."

"What kind of questions?" Chloe asked.

Lana brushed her hair off her shoulder. "Well, he wanted to know how long you've lived in Smallville. And when were you adopted. Who your real parents were. What adoption agency did your folks go through. Stuff like that. I just thought it was kind of weird, that's all. And that you might want to know."

Clark ran his hand through his hair, not really paying attention. "Thanks," he said distractedly. So what if Lionel was asking questions; Lex had been lied to. Or ... he had lied to Clark.

"Are you ok, Clark?" Lana asked softly, putting her hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He began packing his lunch up. "When do you want to get together and work on the project?"

She blinked at the change of topic, but answered, "Is Saturday afternoon ok? Around three?"

"Saturday?" he repeated, zipping up his backpack. Lex said his father was out of the country. "I have a date with hey!!!"

Chloe's foot caught him on the kneecap. It didn't exactly hurt, but it was distracting enough to stop him.

Lana's eyebrows were at her hairline. "You have a date? With who?"

Clark realized what he had almost said, and blushed. "Uh ... uh ... Just this ..."

"Come on, Clark; just because your mom is setting you up doesn't mean you have to be embarrassed," Chloe said.

Pete snickered. "Your mom set you up on a date?"

Closing his eyes, Clark shook his head. "She didn't set me up. It's just ... this friend of hers from Metropolis has a daughter. And they thought we should meet. It's not like a date-date or anything. Just a ... meeting thing." He licked his lips. "But I can get out of it."

"No, Clark, it's no problem. You should go."

"Are you sure? Because I'm free Sunday."

Lana nodded. "Yeah. Sunday's fine. Same time?"

"Right; three o'clock. I'll try to finish the book by then."

"Me too." Lana put her stuff away and rose. "Well, I'm going to go. Talk to you later."

"Bye Lana."

Pete stood too. "See you guys in class. Gotta hit the bathroom."

"Thanks, Pete," Chloe said. "We needed to know that." When they had left, Chloe rested her chin on her fists, gazing at Clark though wide eyes.

He blushed. "Thanks."

"You need to watch what you say."

"I know. I was just ... upset." He sighed, scrubbing his face. "Lex told me that his dad was out of the country. I thought that ... well, I wasn't sure if I believed him. But why would he lie?"

"Maybe he needed to."

"What do you mean?"

Chloe shrugged. "Sometimes people just can't face the truth. Or it hurts too much to deal with. Lies are easier. Maybe he wasn't invited home for the holidays or something, and he was hurt. So he came up with a lie to make himself feel better."

Clark sighed and laid his head on the table. "Lionel beat Lex. It was pretty bad. Then he just took off."

There was silence.

Clark looked up.

Chloe looked sad. "Yeah. Sometimes, the truth just hurts too much."

"Hi, Clark," Mabel greeted, answering the kitchen door. "Come in. What brings you here?"

Clark entered the kitchen, glancing around. The smell of baking cookies filled the air. "I dropped by to see if Lex was home."

"I'm sorry, honey, but Mr. Luthor is still at work. Want a cookie?" She held a plate out.

"Thanks." He picked on up and took a bite. "This is really good."

"Thank you."

"Do you know when Lex will be home?"

The cook shook her head. "He didn't say. Do you want to call him?"

"Yeah; I'd like that."

"Use the phone in my office."

"Ok. Thanks." Clark went to Mabel's office and sat down. Placing his backpack on the ground, he picked up the phone and dialed Lex's cell.

"Lex Luthor."

Clark smiled, a warm feeling spreading in his stomach. "Hey. It's me."

"Clark! Hi. To what do I owe this honor?"

"I'm over at your place. Do you know what time you'll be home?"

Silence. "Uh ... I think I can be done by six. But not sooner. Sorry, angel."

"No, that's fine. Actually, uh, I kind of have this project I need to start. It's on 'Great Expectations,' and I remembered that you had some books on British literature in your library."

"Stay. Do your homework, use the books. If you want to use the computer too, feel free. Can you stay for dinner?"

"Uh, yeah. I've already done my chores at home. I asked if it was ok if I ate here."

"Great. Tell Mabel what you'd like and she'll make it. Do you want to eat in the dining room, or entertainment room?"

"Entertainment room. The dining room is too formal."

"I know what you mean. Look, I have to get back to work. I'll see you soon."

"Ok. Bye."

"Love you." Lex hung up.

Clark placed the phone back in the cradle. "Yeah. Love you too."

Lex tapped his pen on the pile of papers on front of him, staring into space.

"Sir?"

He didn't respond.

"Sir?" Damien tried again, more insistently.

Lex stirred. "What?"

"Is something wrong, sir? You haven't touched your work in ten minutes now. Your father said he wanted the report faxed to him by five."

"No, he didn't, Damien. Dominic said that the report had to be faxed. Dad didn't say a damn thing." He lifted the pen to his mouth and chewed on the end.

Damien sat. "Is something troubling you?"

Slowly, Lex's eyes focused on the man sitting across from him. "Have you ever searched for the answer to an extremely troubling question, thought you found it, only to have that little nagging voice at the back of your head tell you that you overlooked something? That your conclusion is wrong and you're back to square one?"

"What were you looking for? The compound?"

He shook his head. "No, the compound's perfect. I finally got the right structure. That's not what's worrying me." He dropped the pen and leaned back in his chair. "It's Clark. I think he's lying to me."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I thought ... I thought I knew, that I'd figured it out. Discovered why he was so strong. All the others were affected by the meteor rocks, so I just assumed that he was too."

"That seems to be logical conclusion based on the evidence. What makes you think you're wrong?"

Lex sighed and rubbed his scalp. "Reactions, Damien. I'm getting the wrong reactions from people when I confront them."

Damien cocked his head. "How so?"

"When I confronted Clark, he seemed relieved. I thought that he was relieved that I knew. That he was glad I figured it out without him having to tell me, and, now that it was out in the open, he didn't have to lie any more. I don' t think he _ wants_ to deceive me." He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "It's just, I don't think he could bring himself to tell me. He's scared."

"Scared, sir?"

"Yes. Scared. His parents have drilled the fear into him, with good reason. If he were to be discovered by someone who didn't care about him or his well-being, Clark could be taken away from the Kents and experimented on. So they've taught him to be cautious. Beyond that fear, it can't be easy being a mutant. It's hard enough being a teen-ager, but to have that added onto everything ... it must be hard. And, considering the other mutants tended to be, well, monsters, he had to be afraid that he'd turn out the same way." Lex sighed. "He was afraid to tell the truth, but he didn't want to lie. When I confronted him, it made him feel better."

"What, then, is the problem?"

Lex stroked his chin with his thumb. "Jonathan's reaction. He seemed relieved too, and he shouldn't have been. He should have been upset. Lex Luthor knows his son is a mutant. Even if he doesn't hate me anymore, he should still be concerned. This isn't something you tell outsiders. Especially an outsider that you aren't sure if you can trust. He has trouble trusting me; I don't blame him. I know I wouldn't do anything to Clark, and I think Jonathan knows that too, deep down, but my connections are bad. If my father found out ..."

Lex shook his head and sighed. "He'd take Clark away. Dad would experiment on a kid; that's the kind of guy he is. And Jonathan knows that." Sitting back up, he looked at Damien. "So why was he glad I knew? Why did it make him relax, instead of tense? It doesn't make any sense."

Damien tapped his pen on the pad of paper in his lap. "What do you think the truth is?"

Shaking his head, Lex flipped the page of the report and turned back to his computer. "I don't know. I didn't know before, and I certainly don't know now. If he's not a mutant, then what the hell is he? What's left?"

Damien rose. "In this town, you must consider everything."

"Well, first I thought he was normal. Then I thought he born with special abilities. The more I observed the town, the more sense it made to assume he was altered in some way. A mutant. But now ..." Lex trailed off, eyes focusing inward. "He agreed readily that he was a mutant, but he also has said he isn't human. Not when I confronted him, but when he was upset. Right after he popped the ball." He chewed his lip. "What does that leave? Some new evolution of man? Or something else?" Raising an eyebrow, Lex laughed in a self-deprecating way. "I'm beginning to think impossible things."

His assistant tilted his head. "Perhaps not. You do know Sherlock Holmes's famous saying, don't you? 'Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.' In this case, I believe you must give every possiblity careful consideration before discounting it."

"Everything. Right," Lex said dourly. He started typing the report, fingers flying over the keyboard. "Can you get me some orange juice?"

"Right away, sir." Damien left.

Lex sighed and tried to concentrate on the report. But he couldn't; his mind kept returning to Clark. And Clark's secret.

Dinner started well enough. It started snowing when Lex got home, giving the boys the excuse to cuddle together under the quilt Martha had given Lex for Christmas. They had lit the fire and sat side by side, their bodies aligned, plates balanced on their knees.

Clark still didn't understand why Lex insisted on drinking wine when they ate pizza, but when he pressed, Lex had simply shrugged and said, "Well. I don't like beer."

They had a new game now. Lex would dip his fingers in the wine so Clark could suck it off. The older man said that it was important to Clark's future to be able to drink wine without making a face. Tonight's wine was sweet and crisp; Clark liked it much better than the wine Lex had first given him to try. If Clark hadn't had to go home by nine, he would have asked for his own glass. Instead, he had to be satisfied with what he sucked off Lex.

But, even with the cuddling and intimacy of the winter's night, their conversation dwindled. A heavy atmosphere settled over the room. Clark tried not let his bad mood show. Usually when he got this way he simply left the room. It was bad enough when he was morose; he hated inflicting it on others.

There was nowhere to go here. If he said he wanted to go home, Lex would want to drive him. And he'd want to know what was wrong. Normally that would be fine; he hated keeping things from Lex. But this time, Clark didn't know how to approach the subject. How was he supposed to ask if Lex had lied to him? He wasn't good at confronting people, and if Chloe was right, Lex was probably upset enough as it was.

But Clark didn't like being kept in the dark. When people kept things from him, it was usually because they felt he was too young to understand. He hated that phrase. Clark felt he hadn't been too young since he was thirteen. That's when his parents had begun to give him more responsibility around the farm, signaling to him his approaching manhood. Since that day, whenever someone lied to him, it drove him crazy. Having Lex do it hurt even more.

"Are you all right?" Lex asked, breaking into his thoughts.

Clark shrugged. "Yeah. I'm fine."

Placing his plate on the coffee table, Lex turned to face Clark. He brushed a lock of hair off Clark's forehead. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing."

"Clark ..."

"It's ... Lana and I are working on a project together."

Lex raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yeah. The teacher put us together."

"Lucky you."

Clark shook his head. "No. I mean, yeah, because I do like her and would like to get to know her better. I've had a crush on her forever, but we've never been friends. Or even really talked until recently. But, well, I have a boyfriend now. I'm in love. I know you keep saying that I should try and date her so I don't resent you, but right now, I'm not sure if I want to."

Lex began stroking Clark's neck, his touch sending waves of comfort through him. "That's fine too, angel. I just want you to be happy."

"I am," he assured Lex, glancing at him.

"Then what's wrong?"

The teen sighed. "It's just, well, she stayed in Metropolis over the holidays. With your dad." He bit his lip, then said, "Your dad was in Metropolis, Lex."

Lex went still an instant before continuing his caress. "Oh?"

Clark put his plate down and turned to Lex. "Yeah. Did you know that?" He studied Lex intently, searching for the surprise or anger that should be there.

But Lex's eyes were cool, expression very controlled. "Yes."

"You did?"

"Yes." He pulled back, and picked up his wine.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Lex shrugged, sipping his wine. "It was none of your business."

"But ..."

"It was none of your fucking business, Clark! Just let it the fuck go." Lex slammed the wine glass on the coffee table. The stem cracked from the force.

Clark flinched. "What's your problem, Lex?"

"My problem is that you're poking in affairs that are none of your business."

"None of my business? Lex, you were upset and you wouldn't tell me why. I thought that it was just because your dad was out of the country. But this was worse! He was here!"

Lex got off the couch and walked to the fireplace. "Don't get all indignant on my behalf, Clark. He sent an invitation to Christmas dinner. With him, Nell, and Lana Lang. I didn't have to spend it with you. I chose to."

"Then why did you lie? I mean, we would have understood why you chose not to spend the day with him. We all know what happened."

With a growl, Lex swept his arm over the mantel of the fireplace, knocking the knick-knacks to the floor. "I know you all know what happened!" he shouted, turning back. "All the fucking Kents know my personal problems. I get that! I get slapped and go running to my fucking boyfriend's parents for comfort. And pity."

"You didn't get slapped, Lex. He ..."

"Shut up!"

Clark flinched, mouth snapping closed.

"My father does not abuse me, got it? He has never laid a hand on me before that I didn't fucking deserve. I've told you how he punished me: well-controlled paddling. Done out of duty, not anger. Yeah, he slaps me sometimes, but that just ... that's just the way he does things. To make sure I'm listening."

"He doesn't have the right to do that, either. And what he did was not a slap. He beat you with a pool cue."

"Once! One fucking time he beats me. I'm a Luthor; I should have been able to handle it. And don't talk to me about lying," he said suddenly, pointing at Clark.

"What did I lie about?" Clark demanded, rising.

Lex laughed bitterly. "What did you lie about? Everything. Try everything. First, you tell me your normal. Then, you let me believe that you're a mutant."

"I am! I am a mutant." Panic rose, almost choking him.

"No, Clark. I don't think you are. I did before, but now I'm not so sure. Your father seemed a bit too pleased that I knew to make me comfortable with that theory. So tell me, Clark. What the fuck are you, anyway?"

Clark's face crumpled. "I'm a mutant. Just like the others. Just like Jeremy and Coach, and Tina and Sean and ..."

"Right," Lex interrupted, voice hard. "A mutant, just like the rest. Belonging is important to you, isn't it Clark? You're so afraid to be alone. Guess what, angel. You are. They were monsters, you are not. They were mutants, and you ... I don't know what the hell you are. And, until you tell me, I see no reason why I should be completely honest with you. So what if I told you my father was out of the country? What business is it of yours?"

"I just ... I thought that maybe ..." Clark broke off, eyes squeezed shut.

"Tell me the truth, Clark."

"I can't," he whispered in anguish.

"I thought you loved me."

The teen sank back to the couch. "I do love you. But the truth hurts, Lex. It just ... hurts." He opened his eyes, and looked at his lover.

Lex leaned against the fireplace, arms crossed over his chest. Gazing at Clark through pain filled eyes, he said, "Yeah. It does."

The snow slowed to a stop by midnight. The cloud cover remained, thinning and thickening as the weather decided what it wanted to do. When Clark finally gave up on trying to sleep, there were a few holes in the sky, revealing the stars, which quietly shone, keeping their secrets.

The secret of Clark's past. The truth of Clark's present.

The truth, which dug its sharp claws in his heart and stomach, slowly shredding his insides to ragged, bloody strips.

And Lex acted like it should be easy to say. Clark had tried for fifteen minutes and he still couldn't make the words come out.

Taking a deep breath, he tried again, "I'm an ... I'm an ..." Clark shook his head, rubbing his eyes. He cleared his throat. "Lex. I'm an ...Fuck!" Turning away from the space ship, Clark kicked the wall. "I can't do this! I just ... I just can't." Groaning, he rested his head against the wall. "I have to. I can't let him ... He just ..." He closed his eyes, a tear slipping down his cheek.

Taking a deep breath, he turned back to the ship. Licking his lips, he walked over and climbed on top of it. Sitting, he gazed into the corner of the cellar and just breathed. Breathed the air in, breathed the feeling in. Tried to breathe the truth in.

It choked him.

Gasping for air, he put his hands on the strange metal, pressing his palms flat. His eyes drifted shut.

The ship looked alien and yet ... touching it. Felt right. More right than anything had in his life, except for Lex. He could feel it thrumming through him, low and strong, calming his racing heart, soothing his nerves and mind. It was almost like a half-remembered song from his childhood, one that lingered in his memory, but had faded to the back. Touching the ship was like hearing that song again, allowing the melody to fill him, soothe his frazzled nerves, and make him feel safe. Make him feel like he was

Home.

Clark jerked his hands off the ship, tucking them under his arm pits.

"But this is home," he whispered fiercely, opening his eyes. "Not there. They sent me away. They made me hurt people. They aren't my parents and where ever I came from is not my home. Earth is my home. I'm ...

"I'm a human." But the word came out as a sob because it was getting too hard to lie even to himself.

"Not human. Not normal. Not mutant. Not ... not what he deserves." He rubbed his eyes again. "It's too much. I just. Can't."

Climbing off the ship, Clark walked outside. Hopelessness filled him as he walked away from the ship. He didn't know what to do; only two things seemed to give him the peace he so craved. One of them he couldn't accept and the other ...

The other might not accept him anymore.

Clark rubbed his eyes, the looked up at the sky. A cloud began to roll over the patch twinkling above him. As the cold wind blew across his face, Clark asked the one question that had plagued him since he had first learned the truth: "Why?"

The stars continued to shine silently, keeping their secrets.

The mattress shifted under him, jerking Lex out of his troubled sleep into alertness. Heart pounding, his eyed flew open. "Who's there?"

"It's me," Clark said in the darkness.

Lex sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Turn on the light."

The light clicked on, revealing the troubled teen.

"Jesus Christ, Clark. It was just a fight, not the end of the world."

Clark sniffed, rubbing his red eyes. He was damp, hair tangled and messed, a snowflake clinging to a curl. His flannel was buttoned sloppily, shoes muddy, jeans torn. His eyes were red and miserable.

Lex flicked the snowflake off Clark's hair. "I thought it stopped snowing."

"It started again while I was coming over."

"Ah." Tracing Clark's face, he sighed. "Come here, angel," he said, opening his arms.

The teen fell into Lex, pushing him onto the pillows. Kicking off his shoes, Clark climbed under the covers. "I'm sorry," he whispered, hiding his face in the crook of Lex's neck.

"Yeah," Lex sighed, stroking Clark's hair. "So am I. I just ... I'm having problems with my dad. And I don't like people knowing about my problems. It's a sign of weakness."

"But it's just me and my family. It's not like we're telling everyone." Wide blue eyes looked up at Lex, calmer now that he was being caressed and loved.

Lex shrugged. "In a way that's even worse. There's a lot of enmity between our fathers. It almost feels like I'm betraying my dad by turning to his enemy. I know I'm not, but ..." He broke off, frustrated.

Clark nodded. "I just ... I just wish you'd told me. That you felt like you could tell me."

Lex sighed. "I was embarrassed. All my life I've been trying to get my father to pay attention to me. I mean, he did, but ... it was never enough. I always felt like there should be more." He cleared his throat. "He wasn't even there when I woke up from the meteor shower. Dad spent his life at work. When being good and racking up honors at school didn't get him to take the time to be with me, I started to act out."

He laughed bitterly. "The only attention he paid then was when he paddled me. And even then, it was like he wasn't really there. Just showing up to do his job. Otherwise, he just let the servants take care of me. Other people take care of me. Only two things have ever made him pay attention, actual attention, to me: fencing or getting sick. I learned to fence because I thought he'd like me if I did. And it seemed to work. When we fight or when he comes to see me when I'm sick. Those are the only times I think... think that he might care for me. Might see me as more than just a burden, and as a ... I don't know. See me."

Closing his eyes, Lex forced the lump that was forming in his throat away. "Then, the first time I do something good, something I can really be proud of, something worthy of attention, he beats me." His voice got lower. "When he was hitting me, there was this part of me thinking, 'Finally. Attention has been paid.' And that more than anything is what makes me ashamed. That I could be so weak, so fucking needy, that I could be happy at being humiliated." He cleared his throat. "I just ... just couldn't tell you."

The teen sniffed. "I can't either."

"What?" Lex rolled onto his side, gazing at Clark.

"I can't tell you. It's not ... it's not that I don't trust you. I just ... I can't." He took a deep breath. "I can't face it yet. And I'm afraid ... afraid that it'll hurt me."

"Angel," Lex soothed, running his fingers through Clark's hair, "it won't hurt you. Not this. It will just make you stronger."

Clark shook his head. "It will take away who I am. Who I thought I was. It's trying to do it now and ... and if I say it. If I let it be real. Then I can't take it back. It would mean I'm an ..." He broke off abruptly, squeezing his eyes shut.

A jolt of fear and anger went through Clark, hitting Lex hard. He could feel Clark's stomach twist as he fought away whatever secret he was keeping. Keeping from Lex, and from himself.

It was tearing him apart, trying to face it, Lex realized. Clark really wasn't ready. If Lex kept pressing him, kept demanding an immediate revelation, it was possible that Clark would be hurt somehow.

Lex sighed. Clark wasn't ready. So, somehow, he had to help Clark be ready. And, he had to give the teen time.

Opening his eyes, Lex stroked Clark's cheek. "It's ok, Clark. I understand." He kissed the teen's silky hair. "I won't make you tell me. Not yet. But you have to realize that one day, you must face this. You'll need to make it real. Because, whatever it is that makes you so very special, is part of you. And it won't destroy who you are. It will make you even more of who you really are. And it will make you stronger."

Blue eyes gazed into his, scared and unsure. "But it hurts."

"Maybe it does. But you're strong, Clark. You'll survive."

Clark nodded, and burrowed further against Lex's body. "Promise?"

He held Clark tighter, draping his leg over Clark's. Lifting Clark's chin so he could kiss Clark's soft lips, Lex whispered, "I promise."

The teen smiled, eyes falling shut as Lex kissed his eyelids. Soon, he had drifted off to sleep, holding Lex tightly.

Just before Clark fell completely asleep, Lex caught a thought that flit through his mind, "Just like the ship. He feels like home."

Lex rolled onto his back, pulling Clark with him. Running his hand up and down Clark's broad back, he whispered, " 'Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.' But what is left?" He closed his eyes, trying to open his mind so he could see into Clark's dream.

A ship. Unfamiliar design, strange feeling metal. The same from Clark's nightmare. Exactly the same, except now there was no blood dripping off it.

The ship disappeared; Clark started dreaming about something unrelated to anything.

Lex opened his eyes. "Not human." Lex gazed at Clark. "Looks like a human. Smells like a human. Tastes ...different. Has super-human strength; seems invulnerable. And doesn't know if he can die." He laughed softly. "Maybe he's an ... No. That's impossible."

Improbable.

Whatever remains, however improbable ...

"An alien?"