Corner of the World 28: Coming Undone

Notes: Takes place during "Crush."

Chloe crossed the Talon, glancing at the counter. Lana was standing behind it, pouring coffee. As Chloe passed, Lana nodded, offering her a small smile before going back to her work.

That was fine with Chloe. All she wanted from Lana was civility, not friendship. Besides, Chloe figured she was over Lana. After all, she had Justin now... maybe. Hopefully. Although she didn't even know if she wanted him. He was nice, and cute, but...

Instead of finishing the thought, Chloe plopped down across from Lex. "Hey."

Lex opened his eyes and nodded. "Chloe."

"You ok?" she asked, frowning slightly. He looked tired. Or maybe depressed. It was impossible to tell with him.

"Just peachy," he answered dryly. "Yourself?"

She sighed and took a sip of his coffee, making a face at the bitterness.

Lex offered her a wry smile, taking the coffee back before she could add sugar. "Me too." He drained the cup and glanced over his shoulder, holding it up to Lana. When he turned back, he said, "I love making her wait on me. The other day, I called her over every five minutes and asked for something new. At one point, she tried to escape by sending over another waitress, but I wouldn't allow that. Any time she looks like she's about to complain, I threaten to sell the place."

"Lex. That's just cruel." Chloe grinned, then looked away as Lana came to the table, coffeepot and cup in hand.

"Did you need anything else, Mr. Luthor?" she asked sardonically, pouring Chloe a cup as well. "Biscotti? Muffin? Back rub?" Hand on her hip, Lana raised an eyebrow, gazing at him.

Lex shot Chloe a surprised look. "Careful, Ms. Lang, or I might suspect that you're growing a personality." He sounded almost amused.

Lana's smile was mysterious and cynical. "Heaven forbid." Cocking her eyebrow at Chloe, Lana tossed her hair over her shoulder and walked away, her hips swaying almost seductively as she went.

Suddenly overheated, Chloe tilted her head, watching Lana go.

"Oh, please," Lex groaned. "Here." He handed her a napkin.

"What's this for?" she asked, taking it. Her eyes flicked back to Lana, who was chatting merrily with Whitney at the counter.

"You're drooling."

She batted him with the napkin. "You have to admit, she was pretty damn sexy just then."

"I refuse to admit anything she does is sexy. She's Lana. Lana is... pretty. Not sexy." He raised his eyebrows. "Not like you."

"Right," Chloe snorted. "You're Lex Luthor. You've seen the cream of the crop; don't insult my intelligence."

Lex tilted his head, giving her a once over. "You could use polish. And experience. But there is something intrinsically sexy about you. A confidence and... spark that you have. That's all sex appeal really is, you know: the belief that you are attractive." Sipping his coffee, he added, "I'll prove it to you, someday. Just as I'll prove Lana really isn't all that you and Clark think she is. I've gotten him over her; now all I need to do is set you up so you're convinced."

Chloe shook her head, pouring sugar into her coffee. "No, you really don't. I mean, have to set me up. I may have found someone."

He sat up, looking interested. "You have?"

"Yes. Well, maybe. It's a guy, and I know you want me with a woman, but..."

"I want you with someone that's better than Lana," Lex corrected. "I don't care about the gender."

"Oh. Well, anyway, I think this guy is interested in me."

"Who is he?"

Chloe stirred her coffee. "His name is Justin; he's an old friend. He works--or worked--for the Torch drawing comics. A few months back he got hit by a car and has been in Metropolis recovering. We've been e-mailing back and forth, and today was his first day back. He seemed... well, I might be reading him wrong."

Lex was leaning casually back in his seat, rolling his coffee cup around in his hand. "I don't know; you seem like you're pretty on top of things. If you think he's interested, he probably is. Is he gorgeous?"

"Not really. Cute; his hair always looks like he just got out of bed, and he's got nice eyes. But not drop dead gorgeous." She grimaced slightly. "I like him. He's cute, and smart, and funny, and talented, but..." Chloe trailed off, frowning.

"Does he make you hot?" Lex guessed, inclining his head.

Chloe sighed shook her head. "Not really. Not like Lana did."

"Huh, well, that doesn't say much about him if Lana makes you hotter. I'm guessing that I snow him, then." He smiled seductively.

"Of course you snow him, Lex," Chloe answered sweetly. "No one else turns me on as fast as you. Except maybe Clark. And, well..." Chloe glanced at Lana.

Grinning, Lex raised an eyebrow. "You've got to be kidding me. Lana beats me? What planet are you living on?"

"The planet where I've slept with her. Maybe once we have sex, you'll beat her out."

"Maybe?" Lex leaned back, smirking. "Chloe, I'd ruin you for... well, for anyone else."

"Big talk, but I prefer to withhold judgment until I actually experience something. So, until I do, fantasies of Lana Lang spark my... imagination a lot faster than fantasies of you."

He narrowed his eyes, asking, "What about Clark and me? There is no way that she can beat that. Nothing can beat the two of us."

She flushed and looked at the tabletop. "Well, almost nothing. The idea of all of us together, now that's the fantasy I really like. If you must know all of my fantasies."

Lex made a face. "Leave Lana out of it and I'm all for it; add her into the mix, and I lose interest. And, yes, I do have to know your every fantasy. I promised Clark never to ask about his, since he felt so guilty about them. All I have are yours."

"Oh, good, you did get that all taken care of," Chloe said, looking back up. "He came to me a few weeks ago--on his birthday--all upset about it."

"Yes, he mentioned he went to you about it. What happened?"

Chloe shrugged. "Well, he didn't exactly come to me, I sort of went to him. Did he tell you that Lana and I got in a huge fight during breakfast?"

He nodded. "I found him in the bathroom with Whitney."

"Ah. Well, we didn't really talk all day. Clark spent most of it with Whitney and Pete. Pete was avoiding me because I hid my relationship with Lana from him, and Clark was really upset, so it was a fun day all around. Anyway, Clark's not allowed to play contact sports during gym--do you know why? I mean, has he ever talked to you about it?"

Lex's face went blank; Chloe watched in fascination. She'd never seen anyone shut down so quickly.

"Lex?" she prompted, her reporter instincts coming to life.

He was drinking his coffee; she wondered if he was taking so long because he really was thirsty, or if he were trying to hide something. If his sudden guarded manner was any indication, Chloe figured it must be the latter. But what could he be hiding? And, more importantly why?

Lex set down his cup. "It's because of Martha. You know Clark didn't start school until fifth grade, right?"

"Yes."

"His first year, the other kids were hard on him. His first day of school, they played soccer, I think. Anyway, Clark was pushed around, hit, kicked, and abused more than the ball itself. Martha didn't like the way the teacher handled the situation--he basically told Clark to fight back or shut up and take it--so she's refused to let him play since."

Chloe raised her eyebrow. "You're kidding."

Lex didn't answer, merely shrugged.

"Ok, whatever." Chloe made a mental note to ask someone--either Pete or Mrs. Kent--about it later. "Um, anyway, Clark was in my office during gym and I found him and apologized. The thing is, though, it was strange that he got as upset as he did. I mean, I understand that he and I are best friends and he likes Lana a lot, so it upsets him when we fight, but... I don't know. It just seemed like he overreacted. So I asked what was going on, and he told me about Tyler."

"And what did you tell him?"

Chloe sipped her coffee, made a face, and poured some more sugar in it. "That it was normal to be attracted to other people, and that he didn't have to feel guilty about it. I told him that he didn't have to tell you, either, but I guess he did."

"Well," Lex said, "it sort of came out. I read it in his journal."

"You read his journal?"

"It fell open; I didn't do it deliberately. And I'm glad I did, or I might never have found out what was bothering him so much. It needed to be taken care of."

Sitting back in her seat, Chloe thought about it a moment. "Well," she said finally, "I guess it wasn't so bad, then. If he feels better about it." She chewed on her lower lip. "It almost makes me want to go through it and find out what's wrong with him lately."

Lex narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Please don't tell me that you haven't noticed Clark's been acting weird the last few months," Chloe sighed, running her fingers around the rim of her mug. "I've already had to explain it to Lana, and it would suck to have to explain it to you, too. You're his boyfriend for God's sake."

"No, I know what you're talking about," Lex assured her. "I just never thought to ask you if you had." Looking pensive, he took a drink of his coffee. "What have you noticed?"

"Besides not paying attention in class and seeming generally spacey at school, he cuts out of any situation that gets emotional. Anytime he gets upset or uncomfortable, Clark runs away. Most of the time, he and Whitney go and play basketball. If not that, then Clark does some activity that doesn't require him to think or feel too much. Whenever anyone asks him what's going on, he changes the subject or brushes them off. Oh," she added, frowning. "He also does this thing."

"What thing?"

She laughed at the absurdity of it. "He, he uh, dresses. I know it sounds stupid."

"No," Lex assured her. "I know what you mean." He sighed. "Clark layers himself. One night he got really upset and he tried to take the shirt I was wearing away from me, even though he was already wearing three or four layers." Sighing again, Lex rubbed his eyes wearily. "Like he's trying to hide."

Chloe waited until Lex looked up again before asking, "Do you have any idea what's going on with him?"

"Yes, I do."

When he didn't go on, Chloe prompted, "Lex?"

Lex looked pensive, his fingers tapping on the table. "It's nothing."

"It's not nothing. What's going one, Lex? What happened to him?"

"Chloe, don't worry about it. I promise you I'll take care of it."

She shook her head in disbelief. "Excuse me? You'll take care of it?"

"Yes."

"Well, so far, you've been doing a pretty crappy job. What the hell happened?"

"I don't think it's any of your business."

Chloe narrowed her eyes. "Clark is my best friend. I'm only happy for him as long as he's happy, and right now, he's not. If you don't tell me what's going on, I'll have to assume that you did something to him."

"I didn't do anything to him," he snapped, sparks in his eyes.

"Right."

"Chloe..." He shook his head, frustration on his face. "Do you remember a few months ago when Social Services came and took Clark away?"

"Yes."

"Did he tell you the whole thing was orchestrated by my father?

Chloe's stomach dropped. "No, he didn't."

Lex nodded. "Yes. Dad was trying to get back at Jonathan Kent for something in their past. And, no, I don't know what. Anyway, he managed to manipulate things so Clark had to stay with him."

"I knew that part. Clark told me that he stayed over at your father's place in Metropolis, and you stayed with him. The next morning they found his file, and he got to go home."

"That's not exactly what happened. Dad had the file; I knew about it, and thought I had the situation in hand, but... it kind of got out of my control."

Clearing her throat, Chloe asked, "What happened?"

Lex took a deep breath. "My father... scared Clark. Threatened him. And his family."

"Oh wow," Chloe breathed. "What did your father say he'd do?"

"He... he said he'd take Clark away permanently. That he'd get the Kents evicted, or jailed for kidnapping. That sort of thing. And he said he'd hurt me. Clark was understandably upset."

Chloe bit her lip, and pointed out, "But none of that has happened."

"No, but Dad reminded Clark how little power he had. And Clark doesn't like feeling powerless, so it's still with him," Lex said in a perfectly even voice. There was no real emotion in his voice, nor face, as if he were tightly reigning himself in.

A frowned crossed Chloe's face and she shook her head. Something wasn't right. Yes, Lionel Luthor was a powerful man, and she had no doubt that he could make good on his threats. But, why make the threats in the first place? Clark wasn't so emotionally weak that big talk would reduce him to a trembling bundle of nerves. Maybe Lionel didn't know that and thought he would give Jonathan his son back with emotional scars--although why Lionel Luthor wanted to do anything to Jonathan Kent was beyond Chloe. It was also an issue for another day. The issue at hand was Clark.

Lex was lying about something; Chloe was sure of it. His stillness might have fooled her once, but she knew him now; Lex wasn't the cool, emotionless businessman he often acted like. There was real passion bubbling under the surface of the pale skin, and, under the circumstances, it should be showing. His father threatened and scared his boyfriend; Lex should be angry at least, not cold and distant.

And then there was the fact that Clark was very upset. This had been going on for months now. Lionel had threatened to do something, and he hadn't. Surely Clark wouldn't still be on guard now; in the absence of an immediate threat, it was human nature to relax.

Unless Lex was lying, which Chloe knew he was. Unless Lionel hadn't merely threatened Clark and done something else. Something...

She broke off the train of thought before she got too upset. There were some things one simply didn't want contemplate, and the direction her thoughts were heading was one of them. "What are you lying about?" Chloe asked Lex instead.

He twitched. "I'm not lying." One hand convulsively clenched before he forced it to relax.

"Yes, you are."

"Back the fuck off, Chloe," Lex said through gritted teeth. "There are some things that you just shouldn't know." His eyes were suddenly bright, cheeks flushed.

Chloe felt ill. "Lex, what... He didn't just threaten Clark, did he? None of this makes sense if that's all he did. Clark wouldn't be this upset; he's stronger than this."

"Your point?" Lex's voice was beginning to get hoarse.

"My point is... my point is that he had to have done something to Clark. You father... he did something, didn't he? Did something that scared Clark so bad and... and his parents... they don't know because if they did, Clark wouldn't... he would be acting differently. Not like someone who's all alone and afraid. He..." Chloe broke off and took a deep breath. "What did your father do to him, Lex?" It was very hard to breathe.

Lex looked away.

Chloe felt sick. "Tell me, Lex."

"I can't," he whispered, anguished.

Rising from the table abruptly, she said, "Then I have to tell his parents."

Alarm written across his face, Lex grabbed her arm and pulled her back to the table, "You can't!"

"Lex, he's hurt, and you won't tell me what's going on."

"His parents don't know. I promised I wouldn't tell them."

"Tell them what, Lex?" Chloe shouted. "What did he do?"

"Lower your voice," he said through clenched teeth, yanking her arm viciously.

Chloe sank back into her seat. "Tell me."

Lex pulled his inhaler out of his pocket and took a few breaths. "I can't... I swore I was going to protect Clark. I promised that he would be all right, both to him and Clark's parents. I don't make promises lightly, and I failed him. I failed Clark and my father..." Lex broke off, eyes squeezing shut. "Tried to... to rape him." Quickly, he raised the inhaler to his mouth again, pumping it a few more times.

Suspicions confirmed, Chloe asked thickly, "Why didn't you stop him?"

"Dad knocked me out to get at Clark." Lex rubbed his eyes with his free hand, anger etched across his face.

"But Clark's so strong," Chloe whispered, trying to blink tears from her eyes. "He... why couldn't he stop it?"

"He did. But he was so scared. And he still is. He doesn't like feeling powerless, and that's how my father made him feel. So now, any time something happens that he has no control over, Clark retreats emotionally."

Chloe shook her head, wiping her eyes. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked through her tears. "I mean, I know why, but... I could have been doing something for him. H-helping him. I would have..."She broke off, closing her eyes and biting back sobs. "I yelled at him this afternoon for forgetting about the conference. How could I?"

The feel of paper against her cheek startled her. Opening her eyes, she found Lex wiping the tears off her cheeks.

"I know, Chloe. I should have mentioned something sooner. Maybe not tell you what happened, but... somehow asked you to keep an eye on him." He took her hand and squeezed it gently. "Don't cry."

"I feel so guilty, Lex. I've been acting like nothing was wrong when my best friend's been in pain. How could I?"

"Chloe, you didn't know. Besides, the last thing Clark needs is to be treated differently. It would make him even more insecure," Lex said. "He needs to have some consistency in life right now."

Chloe nodded and took the napkin from him. "Ok." She wiped her eyes. "Do his parents know?"

Lex shook his head. "I left it up to him to tell them. I don't think he has."

"Why not?"

"He's probably too ashamed."

"He didn't do anything wrong," Chloe protested, breaking out in a fresh batch of tears. "Didn't you tell him that he didn't do anything wrong?"

"Of course I did. But I can't make him believe it." He sighed, squeezing her hand again. "We'll figure something out, Chloe. And he'll be ok."

"I hope so." She pulled her hand away.

Lex's phone beeped. Scowling, he pulled it out and checked the message. "I hate to do this, but I have to go. Will you be ok?"

"I'll survive." She smiled up at him as he stood, her smile feeling false.

He looked as if he understood. "I'll talk to you later. Take care, all right?"

"You too."

Lex touched her cheek softly before he left, situation-inappropriate tingles breaking out over her body as he did.

Sighing, Chloe turned back to her coffee, thinking she should probably get back to school and work on the paper.

"What was that about?" Lana asked from above her.

"Nothing."

"Then why are you crying?"

Chloe stood, picking up her bag. "Don't worry about it, Lana. Really. Thanks for the coffee." She pulled out some money and handed it to Lana.

Their fingers brushed as Lana took it.

"No problem."

There was an awkward moment as the two girls looked at each other. Chloe's heart began pounding and she opened her mouth to say something, but wasn't quite sure what.

"Hey, Chloe?" Justin called from across the Talon.

Chloe gazed at Lana a heartbeat longer before turning. "Hey, Justin."

Justin nodded in greeting to Lana before his eyes fastening on Chloe. Smiling, he said, "I think I said something about treating you to a non-fat, no foam latte earlier?"

"Oh, right." She forced a smile. "Um, why don't we go grab a seat? Lana?"

Eyes dark, mouth down turned slightly, Lana nodded. "Coming right up." Spinning on her heel, she went behind the counter to get their order.

"Is she ok?" Justin asked, leading Chloe to one of the couches in the back.

"Yeah. She's fine. So, how was your first day back at school?" she asked, hoping to get him talking.

"It was fine. My teachers..."

Chloe breathed a sigh of relief, contributing a little to the conversation, mostly prompting him to talk more. Her mind was still whirling as she tried to figure out what she was going to do next.

"Hey, Clark," Whitney called, loping up the bleachers to where Clark was sitting. "What are you doing out here?"

Clark closed the book he was reading and shrugged. "I have gym right now, and I'm not allowed to play. I'm supposed to be in the Torch office doing homework, but Chloe's there and she's been acting weird all day."

Lying back and turning his face to the sun, Whitney asked, "How is she acting?" He stretched out, head resting next to Clark's knee, fingers brushing Clark's jeans lightly as Whitney interlaced them behind his head.

He gazed down at Whitney. The lines in his face were almost invisible now, the intense anxiety he'd been living with the past few months fading away. He looked young again, although Clark had no doubt the darkness would still be there in if he opened his eyes. Some marks fade when the tension goes away, but the experience lingers.

Clark sighed and shook his head. "It's kind of hard to explain. Well, not really, I guess. She's just... acting differently all day, like she's worried about something." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his toy truck and started rolling it on his leg.

"What's she worried about?"

"At first I thought she was worried about me. Not that there's any reason, but before school started she kept shooting me little looks, touching my arm and asking if I was ok. Chloe... when Chloe's worried about someone, she does these little things, like looking at them, or standing really close. And she was doing to that to me all morning."

"But?" Whitney prompted when Clark fell silent.

Clark nodded. "But, then, during English she passed me a note."

"What did the note say?" Whitney sat up and straddled the bench next to Clark.

"It was about this friend of hers from Metropolis. Apparently she got raped a few years ago. Chloe wrote about how the friend was all embarrassed and blamed herself when it wasn't really her fault, and how one of the ways she ended up coming to terms with it was by calling this hotline."

Whitney frowned. "You said this happened a few years ago?"

"Yeah. And when I asked her why she brought it up, Chloe said she was just thinking about her lately."

"Well, maybe she was," Whitney said, sounded skeptical. "Girls... think about their friends," he added lamely. "Do you have the note?"

Clark pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to Whitney. "I guess it's possible. Maybe it's her friend's birthday, or anniversary of when she was raped or something. I just... it made me feel weird. Especially since she's been talking about that kind of thing all day."

Whitney scanned the note. "Why did she write the number of the hotline here?" He held the note out for Clark to see.

He shrugged. "I don't know. And she was the one to underline it. Not me." He ran his hand through his hair, laughing shakily. "I mean, why would I care, right?"

"Are you sure the friend is in Metropolis?"

Startled, Clark looked up at Whitney. "What do you mean?" His voice trembled slightly, but Whitney didn't seem to notice.

"I mean, maybe she made the story up. Or, the location up. Maybe she just found out someone around here was raped and swore not to tell anyone. But, she's Chloe; it's in her nature to report news, so she muddled up the facts to protect the innocent and passed it along to you." Frowning, he looked back at the note. "That doesn't explain why she gave you the number, thought."

Clark snatched the note back. "But it's a good theory. Maybe you're on the right track."

Whitney snapped suddenly. "Maybe she wants you to pass the number onto someone. Who?" He tapped his fingers against his forehead before looking up. "What about that Justin kid?"

Confused, Clark replied, "What about him?"

"Are you friends with him?"

"No. I don't even like him."

Smiling, Whitney asked, "Jealous?"

"Why would I be jealous?"

"I know you and Chloe are close. Do you really not like him or are you jealous that someone else is moving in on your girl?"

"No, I'm not jealous," Clark said. "And Chloe isn't my... girl. I just... don't like him. There's something about him that just doesn't sit well with me."

"Are you complaining about Justin again?" Pete asked, climbing the bleachers. "Hey, Whitney."

Whitney nodded. "Hey, Pete."

"I'm not complaining about him," Clark told Pete, annoyed. "I just don't like him. I mean, why was he carrying around that newspaper article?"

"What article?" Whitney asked.

Rolling his eyes, Pete said, "Justin's doctor got his hands all smashed up in an accident and Justin had the newspaper in his notebook. Which is really weird, because the doctor only worked with Justin for like, what? Five months or something? Why would Justin be interested?" Pete concluded, looking pointedly at Clark.

Flush stealing over his cheeks, Clark retorted, "But how did the accident happen in the first place? Don't you think it's strange that Justin lost the use of his hands, and the doctor that couldn't save Justin's hands lost the use of his?" He stuffed the truck into his pocket, running his fingers over the wheels.

"You really have been hanging out with Chloe too much. I think that her new boyfriend will give the two of you much needed distance from each other," Pete told him.

Clark stuffed his book into his backpack angrily. "Fine, don't..."

"Clark, calm down," Whitney said, grabbing Clark's sleeve. He tugged it gently. "I agree with you, it's a little weird. I've seen enough strangeness in this town not to discount it totally. But, you have to admit, you do sound a little jealous."

"I don't like Chloe like that!" Clark practically shouted, face turning hot. "She's my friend, but we're not, in anyway, interested in each other as more than friends. And I don't like Justin because I just don't trust him; Chloe's been hurt enough after..." He broke off abruptly, glancing at Whitney. His cheeks turned red as he realized what he'd almost revealed.

Catching on, Pete sat up. "Yeah, I know. That whole thing with Sean Kelvin at the beginning of the school year totally freaked her out, but I think she's over that. Besides, Justin isn't a freak."

Clark exhaled slowly and nodded, looking gratefully at Pete. "I know. Or, at least, I hope so. But the guy gives me a weird vibe, and I can't help but be over-protective. She's my friend, and I don't want anything to happen to her."

"Nothing will, Clark," Whitney said, squeezing his sleeve.

Clark offered Whitney a faint smile, rubbing his forehead. "How did we get on this topic, anyway?"

"You were talking about Chloe and her friend. I was wondering if maybe Chloe gave you the number to the rape hotline in hopes that you'd pass it onto Justin somehow."

"You think Justin got raped?"

Whitney shrugged. "I hope he didn't, but there is a certain logic. He was in a children's hospital for months while he was recuperating. I'm sure they screen their employee's, but that doesn't stop a first time offender from getting a job. Maybe someone assaulted Justin while was recovering, and somehow Chloe found out. She figured that he'd deny what happened to him if she confronted him, so she slipped you the number in hopes it somehow gets back to him."

A horrible idea began budding in Clark's mind. He felt frozen, eyes locked on Whitney, questions buzzing around his sluggish brain.

Pete frowned. "Wait, she gave you the number of a rape hotline?"

Clark forced himself to respond. "Uh, yeah." He showed Pete the note.

While he read it, Pete raised his eyebrow. "Maybe this just made her hyper aware of the issue, but... it's just weird. Chloe's been printing out flyers from some rape prevention website all day. And, this morning when I got to the office, I heard her ordering pamphlets from some rape crisis center or organization or something. The bell rang for class before I could ask her what was up."

Whitney cleared his throat. "So, either she's telling the truth, someone in Smallville got raped and she's just trying to get as much information out there in hopes that they get it, or... could she have been attacked?"

"But, if it was her, why is she acting like it's someone else? If she wanted to keep it confidential, she could pretend it never happened and call the number herself," Pete pointed out.

His heart was beating so fast, Clark felt slight dizzy. The palms of his hands were cold, feet numb, and Clark felt heavy all over.

Forcing himself to breathe, Clark tugged his sleeve from Whitney's grip and mumbled, "I've got to go. I'll see you guys later."

"Later, Clark," Pete said.

"Clark, are you... Clark?" Whitney shouted as Clark ran off.

"Don't worry. He does that a lot," Pete said.

But Clark could feel the weight of Whitney's gaze on his back. Ignoring him, Clark ran until he was out of sight, then stopped, leaning against a wall.

"She doesn't know," he whispered, tucking his hands underneath his armpits. Sliding to the ground, he rested his head against his knees. "She can't." Only Lionel, Damien, and Lex knew what had happened, and none of them would have told anyone.

Unless Lex...

No. Lex wouldn't have said anything. So, that meant either Chloe was worried about some one else, or... or maybe it was rape awareness month and she hadn't said anything. At any rate, Clark needed to find out what was going on, or he'd go crazy.

Clark took a deep breath and stood. Resolved to find some answers, he set his jaw and marched off to the "Torch" to find Chloe.

Chloe was not in the Torch office when Clark got there. He waited about a half an hour before giving up. As much as he needed to talk to her, Clark had deliveries to make. With any luck, none of the ladies on the route would try to talk to him today, as they usually did. Normally Clark didn't mind chatting with them; after all, they lived so far from town. They only came in about every two weeks, if that. Clark was one of the few outside contacts they had.

Of course, everyone on the route wanted to talk to him. They asked about his grades, his social life, his parents, and anything else they could think of. Clark answered all their questions politely, but cut the conversations as short as he could, and it still took him two hours before he made it to his last stop, the Talon.

"Clark, great!" Lana enthused as Clark brought the pies into the shop. "Just bring them behind the counter."

"You sold out of the last batch in three days," Clark remarked, setting the pies in the empty case.

Smiling wryly, Lana replied, "I wish everything sold as well as your mom's pies."

He glanced around the bustling room. "You don't seem to be hurting for business."

"No. Ever since the post election party business has been great. It's just everyone pretty much confines themselves to drinks, so we're not making as much as we could. The pies, however, keep selling out," she told Clark as she pulled out the cash box.

Clark nodded. "Maybe you could ask Lex if Mabel could bake the rest of the goods that you sell. She's an awesome cook."

Lana smiled wryly. "I'll try that, although I have a feeling that Lex wouldn't like sharing his personal chef."

"It's not like she has all that much to do," Clark pointed out. "She only cooks for him. I think."

"I'm sure she'd have the time. I just don't think Lex is too keen on giving me any help in running this place. He'd rather see me fail."

Clark frowned. "That's not true."

Shrugging, Lana finished counting the money and put the box away. "Maybe not, but he does enjoy making things hard for me. But that's fine; I'm not going to let him intimidate me. I've got a good business on my hands, and I if have to go to Mabel personally and draw up a contract for her services, I will."

"Do you... want me to talk to Lex?" Clark asked uncertainly, wondering where this new Lana had come from.

"No," she said firmly. "I managed to get these people here without any help, and I'm going to keep them here the same way. From now on, I'm going to fight my own battles."

"Great," Clark said finally, feeling as if he were missing something. "Good luck with that." Glancing around, he asked, "Um, have you seen Chloe? I've been looking for her since school let out, and can't find her anywhere."

Lana nodded. "She was in here about an hour ago. She, uh, wanted to know if I'd allow her to put these in here," she finished, walking to the counter. She picked up some pamphlets. Smiling wryly, she added, "I asked if it was for me, and she... well, Chloe got more flustered then I'd seen her since she and I broke up."

His hand shaking slightly, Clark took the pamphlet. It was from the local hospital, their number, as well as a crisis hotline number on it. Inside was information about sexual assault. "Was it for you?"

"No, but she did say if it would help me work through some issues, I should consider calling. I don't know if I will. I'm beginning to... come to terms with it, I guess. I..." She broke off, shaking her head. "I don't know."

Through a tight throat, Clark asked, "Did she say where she was going after she dropped these off?"

"Back to school. She had an article she wanted to type up, and had left her stuff there."

"Thanks, Lana. I'll see you later."

"Clark!"

Clark turned. "Yeah?"

Lana went to him, handing him the money. "Don't forget this."

He flushed. "Oh, thanks. Bye." Tucking the money away, Clark left the Talon, determined to find Chloe.

Chloe's first thought when Justin kissed her was, "Totally different from Lana." He was more hesitant and less skillful. His tongue pressed into her mouth awkwardly and lay there as if he weren't sure what to do. All in all, it was fairly unpleasant and messy. Very teen-agery.

But then, there was a subtle shift. Chloe guided him just a bit, trying to show him what to do and, after awhile, Justin caught on. After being distracted by the floating objects, Chloe took charge of the kissing and was getting into it when Clark walked in.

Needless to say, she was a little annoyed at being interrupted. After all, Clark's love life was great. Lex wrote the book on kissing and probably showed Clark what to do, not the other way around. And they had that huge mansion in which to make-out.

Chloe had her house, where her father lived. He hadn't caught on that she and Lana had spent their hours in the basement making out, but he would be suspicious of a boy. And as for Justin's... well, Chloe didn't really feel all that comfortable making-out anywhere near parents. The Torch office, though school property, was her only place.

Not only was the interruption untimely, there was that other matter of Clark getting to be in a committed relationship for six months while her perfect romance had ended in heartbreak. Compound that jealousy with the fact that Chloe was abruptly horny as hell--apparently Justin could make her hot and bothered--she wasn't exactly thinking clearly when Clark's first words were, "Don't you think this thing with Justin is moving kind of fast?" He slammed the door to the empty room they'd ducked into shut.

"No, I don't," Chloe snapped. "Besides, you're one to talk."

"What does that mean?"

"You and Lex have been having sex practically since the two of you met. I'm making-out with a guy I've been e-mailing for five months. You do the math."

Clark's face turned beet red. "That isn't true."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Please. Maybe you weren't actually sleeping together yet, but you two moved really fast. So don't lecture me."

"I'm not lecturing you," Clark protested. "I just want you to be careful. You've been hurt enough."

"Justin isn't going to hurt me. He's a nice guy."

"I'm not convinced that he is. I mean, you have to admit that there's something weird about him."

Narrowing her eyes, Chloe said, "You know, you're awfully critical of anyone that I express anyone in. Not Lana, of course, because that would be hypocritical of you, but you hated Sean..."

"But I was right about him," he pointed out.

"Yeah, but you didn't like him before he turned into the mutant monster."

"Sean was a total dog."

"Right, but that doesn't explain Eric, does it? You told me you got jealous when you thought I was into him."

Clark pulled his sleeves over his hands. "I just... I'm not jealous of Justin. I just think he's a creep."

"Well, I don't. I like him, and if you can't accept that... Then I don't know."

"You don't know what?"

"I don't know what we're supposed to do!" Chloe shouted. "I don't want to be alone just so you can be happy. You have Lex. I'm not going to stay single just for you."

"I don't want you to be single!" Clark shouted back. "I want you to be happy! I'm happy when you're happy, but there is something wrong with him."

"And there is plenty wrong with Lex, but I never tried to dissuade you from your relationship with him. He made you glow, Clark, and that was good enough for me. And, no, Justin isn't 'the one.' I don't see myself living happily ever after with him, but I like him. He's cute, he's funny, he's talented, and he likes me. Ok? Maybe I'm not going to fall in love with him, but I'm only sixteen and I don't need that right now. So, unless you have something else to talk about, I think you should go."

Clark opened and closed his mouth a few times, looking visibly shaken. Frowning, he pulled something out of his pocket, then shook his head.

"I... I'll see you later," he whispered, turning on his heel. Without a glance back, he left.

Chloe closed her eyes, putting her hand to her head. "What was I thinking?" she moaned. "Damn, damn, damn."

"Uh, Chloe?" Justin said, peeking into the classroom.

Blinking back her tears, Chloe opened her eyes. Her smile was bright as she replied, "Yeah?"

"You ok?"

"I'm fine."

Justin looked unconvinced, but he nodded. "Uh, ok. Look, I've got to go. But I'll talk to you tomorrow, right?"

"Of course."

He smiled. "Cool." Justin kissed her on the cheek. "See you," he whispered.

Chloe nodded and smiled. When he was gone, her face crumpled. She managed to make it into her office before the dam broke.

"What was I thinking?" she sobbed. "He's in pain. He's confused. Why couldn't I remember that when he jumped on me? Why..." She broke off, shaking her head.

There was nothing she could do about it now. No, Clark wasn't being rational about Justin, but Chloe had to let that go. He would get used to it. And, until then, she'd just have to figure out how to maintain her relationship with both.

Somehow.

Clark sighed, pressing the gas a little harder. All he wanted to do was go home, go up to his room, and sleep. Or hide, which was about the same thing. After what had just happened, all Clark wanted to do was find a deep hole, climb in, and never come out.

When Clark had seen Chloe and Justin making out, he'd freaked out. How could Chloe do something like this to him? First, she ruins his day by being so interested in rape, and then makes out with the one guy Clark really wanted her to stay away from. It was like she was trying to upset him more.

Yes, he could have handled the situation better, but he was already upset enough as it was. And Clark just didn't trust Justin; he couldn't help it. Justin gave him the creeps.

"Chloe deserves better," he said, angry with himself for getting distracted.

He hadn't wanted to fight with Chloe about Justin; he'd just wanted answers. Instead... he'd freaked.

Sighing, Clark turned down Kerry Road. Up head, a car was pulled over with a flat tire. A red haired woman was struggling to get the spare from the trunk, without much success.

Clark pulled over and got out of the tuck. "Do you need some help, ma'am?" he called approaching her from the back.

The woman turned, a smile breaking over her face. "Yes, thank you."

Clark froze, gazing at the woman. She was beautiful: deep blue eyes, dark red hair, pretty features. About his mother's age, or a bit older. And... and very familiar.

The world lurched around him. Heart pounding, Clark found he had to gasp for breath because, dammit, he knew her.

"Pamela," he whispered. He staggered as the world began spinning around him, the force of the memory making him dizzy.

"Are you all right?" Pamela asked, sounding far off as reality slipped away replaced with a scene from the past.

• "She's my nanny," Lex said, holding out a picture. "She loves me. When my mother is busy, Pamela is always there to play with me, or hold me, or... or just listen to me." The look on Lex's face was loving as he gazed at the picture. "And she's never looked at me differently. I mean, after this." He ran his hand over his head. His smile was soft and happy. "I know she would love you, Kal." Lex held the picture out.

Clark took it, touching the image delicately. "Sheal?" he asked, looking from the image to Lex. He touched Lex's chest, right over his heart. "Lex, Sheal?"

"No," Lex replied patiently. "I've already shown you Mother's picture. Remember? Mother means Sheal, I think. This is Pamela."

When Clark still didn't seem to understand, Lex touched his chest. "Lex." Then touching Clark, he said, "Kal. Pamela," he concluded, finger on the image.

"Lex. Kal... Pam'la." Clark touched the picture, then looked up at Lex, smiling. "Pam'la."

Lex grinned and nodded. "That's right." *

"Please talk to me. Are you all right? Can you hear me?" Pamela was saying. She was kneeling the dirt besides Clark. He was lying on the road, curled into a ball.

Swallowing back nausea, Clark blinked the tears and dirt from his eyes and sat up. "I'm sorry. Really."

Pamela shook her head, brushing dirt off his jacket. "Don't worry. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. I'm..." He broke off, squeezing his eyes shut.

• "Pamela took me to the zoo" "Pamela and Dad got into a fight" "Mom was sick, so Pamela took me out for my birthday." "I hate school. I'm so lonely here. The only things that help are you and Pamela. She writes me every day.*

Clark pressed the heels of his hands in his eyes as Lex's child voice echoed through his head. They weren't even memories at this point, just disjointed words and images swirling through his head so rapidly that Clark was beginning to feel ill.

"Just make it stop," he groaned.

"Make what stop? What's going on?" Pamela sounded frightened, but she didn't leave or recoil from him. "Please talk to me. Do you need a doctor?"

"No!" Fear managed to snap Clark half-way back to reality. Lex's voice still circling through his head, Clark lifted his head, looking at her. "Please, no doctor. I'm... I'm fine."

Pamela stroked his hair. "No, you're not fine. Is something wrong with you? Do you have medication?"

Taking a deep breath, Clark said shakily, "No. No medication, no... It's psychological. Sometimes these... memories that I've repressed sort of rise up and take over. And I don't know how to stop it," he ended with a sob.

"Just relax," Pamela told him soothingly. "What's your name?"

"Clark Kent."

"It's nice to meet you, Clark. My name is Pamela Jenkins."

"Yes," Clark whispered. He pulled away, wiping his face. "I mean, it's nice to meet you too. I'm really sorry about this."

"Don't worry about it, Clark. Can you stand up?"

He nodded and, with her help, struggled to his feet.

"Let me drive you home. Or," she corrected with a wry glance at her car, "call your parents." Pamela took his hand and led Clark to her car. "What's your phone number?"

Clark leaned wearily on the car. "It's 555-0145."

Pamela dialed and handed Clark the phone.

"Kent residence," Martha answered.

"Hey, Mom, it's me. Uh... can you or Dad come pick me up?"

"Where are you? What's happened?" Martha asked, alarmed.

Clark flushed. "I'm kind of having a memory attack. Something triggered them while I was trying to help a woman change her tire, and she's really worried."

"How are you?"

"Fine, I guess. Shaken, and shaking."

"Where are you?"

"On Kerry Rd., about a mile away."

"I'll be there in five minutes." Martha hung up.

Handing the phone back to Pamela, Clark said, "She's coming. I'm really sorry."

Pamela shook her head, smiling gently. "Don't be; you didn't do anything wrong. And I'll get over the fright." She looked at him. "Are you feeling better?"

Clark nodded. "Yeah. The memories seem to have faded."

"Good." She was silent a moment. "Were they bad memories?"

"No. Just overwhelming." Clark shrugged and pulled his toy truck out of his pocket, rolling the wheels with his thumb.

Pamela pushed a curl off his forehead. "What does it feel like?"

Clark shrugged. "It's like this big rush that just sucks me under, and I lose myself in them. I don't even know what's going on around me."

"What triggered it?"

He almost responded truthfully, but figured that would be too hard to explain. Shaking his head, he replied, "I don't know." He leaned against the car. "So," he said, driving his toy down the side of Pamela's car, "are you from Metropolis?"

Pamela brushed some hair from her face. She was very elegant, Clark realized. Her clothes, her carriage, her perfume. All very crisp and elegant. A lot like Lex.

"What makes you think that?" she asked.

"Fancy car, expensive clothes, expensive perfume..." Clark trailed off, smiling slightly. "It's the closest city, so I figured you drove out here to visit someone and were on your way back."

She smiled and nodded. "You're right. Well, partly right. I used to live there, but haven't for years. I came back to... reconcile with my past."

Clark blinked at the bitter sadness in her voice. "What happened?"

"It's nothing I want to burden a complete stranger with."

"I just threw a lot on you," he pointed out.

"True," she conceded. "It just... it cuts a little too deep." Then she turned to him, face deadly earnest. "Please promise me something, Clark. Don't ever let anyone scare you away from someone you love. Be strong enough to do what you know is right. Don't walk away because your brain tells you it's the right thing, when your heart is screaming at you it's not."

Clark frowned. "Did you... did you let yourself be scared?"

Pamela dabbed the corner of her eyes with a handkerchief she pulled out of her purse. "I let someone very powerful convince me that I had no power. And I left someone who needed me. I thought it was for the best; I wanted so much for him and... and even though, in my heart I knew it was the wrong thing to do, I left. I should have found a way to stay with him. He needed me so much."

Heart aching in sympathy, Clark moved closer to Pamela and took her hand. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

"Thank you." She squeezed his hand, and wiped away the last of her tears. "Are those your parents?" she asked, nodding her head at the car speeding down the road.

Martha pulled the car over the side of the road, shut it off, and leapt out of the car.

"Clark, are you all right?" Martha ran up to him, enveloping Clark in her arms.

"Yeah, Mom, I'm ok. I'm still a little shaky, but I'll be fine."

"I'm Jonathan Kent."

"Pamela Jenkins. Your son was trying to help me change my tire when he... fell to the ground. He wasn't answering me at first, but after he did, he seemed fine. I wasn't sure if I should call you first or a doctor."

"You were right in calling us, Ms. Jenkins," Jonathan said. "Thank you. Martha, take Clark home; I'll stay to help Ms. Jenkins out, then drive the truck home." He pulled the car jack from the trunk.

Martha, who was still holding onto Clark, nodded. "All right. Thank you so much for taking care of him, Ms. Jenkins."

Pamela smiled. "You're very welcome. Take care of yourself, Clark."

Clark returned her smile and nodded. "Thanks; you too. Bye." With one last look, he climbed into the car with his mother and drove away.

"What did you remember?" Martha asked, face pale.

Embarrassment hit Clark as he realized he really couldn't explain it. One day he'd tell her about Kiptin, but right now, he liked having a secret with Lex.

"Clark?"

"More stuff about my birth parents. Not much; it was really short, but I remembered Sheal picking up from my cradle and holding me. That was it, but it was really sudden and just, I don't know, hit me." He shrugged and glanced at his mother.

She seemed to buy it, thankfully. "Well, I hope you didn't say anything that would be hard to explain to her. Not that she seems like a bad person, but you can't be too careful."

Clark shook his head, watching the landscape fly by as they turned onto their lane. "Pam... Mrs. Jenkins wouldn't do anything," he said confidently.

"Uh-huh. Let's hope not." Martha turned into their driveway, stopping the car. "Do you want soup? I made some for lunch, and there should be some left over."

"Yes, definitely." Clark climbed out of the car and bounded up the stairs to the house. He was beginning to feel better.

The phone was ringing when they got in. "I'll get it, Mom," he said, picking up the phone. "Kent residence."

"This is Damien, Clark."

"Hi. Is something wrong?" Clark asked, his heart beginning to beat a little faster. Calls from Damien were never good.

"Mr. Luthor passed out a little bit ago. He seems all right now, but asked me to call you. He said to ask what happened."

There was shouting in the background. Damien sighed. "Excuse me. His exact words were, "What the hell happened?"

Groaning softly, Clark closed his eyes. "Where is he?"

"He hit his head when he fell, so he's in bed waiting for Dr. Sutton."

"I'm coming over. Tell him I'll talk to him then." He hung up. "Mom, Lex passed out; I've got to go to him."

Martha put a bowl of soup on the table, eyes creased. "Clark, you're not exactly in top condition yourself."

He picked up the board and drained the bowl. "Mom, I have to go to him; you know I won't be able to sleep otherwise."

"I know, but..."

"Mom, I need to see him anyway. I want to tell him what I remembered. I promise that I'll be back by curfew."

Martha sighed and nodded. "Go. But you'd better be back."

"I will. Thanks." Clark dropped a kiss on her head and sped away.

"You're fine, Mr. Luthor," Dr. Sutton announced, putting her equipment away. "I can't find any reason that you fainted, although I'll have to run some tests on the blood sample I took."

Lex nodded. "Thank you, Doctor. And thank you for getting out here so quickly. I appreciate that."

"Of course." She smiled at him, then at Clark, who was kneeling on the bed next to Lex, holding his hand. "You look so pale, Clark. Are you sure you're feeling all right?"

"Yes, I am. Thank you."

"Very well. I'll have the results to you by tonight, Mr. Luthor. Good-bye."

"Bye, Dr. Sutton."

When she was gone, Lex sat up, and turned to Clark. "Walk me through it again: what happened."

Clark took a deep breath, hoping that this time they wouldn't be interrupted. "I was driving home from making my deliveries, and I was almost home when I saw someone pulled on the side of the road with a flat. I got out to help her and I turned and, Lex, I knew her."

"You know everyone in town, Clark; I'm not surprised that..."

"No, you don't understand," Clark interrupted, excited. "I've never met her before; she's not from Smallville. Lex, it was Pamela. I remember her from when you showed me her picture in Kiptin. I remembered Kiptin!"

Lex's reaction was not what Clark expected. He paled and sank against his pillows.

"You remember her," he repeated faintly.

Clark shook his head. "Well, I remember her picture, but I remembered you. Us. I had this memory of us sitting on the bed, and you were telling me about her. You handed me a picture and told me how much you loved her, and how great she was, and how she loved you. You wanted me to say her name, and I called her Sheal, but you corrected me. And you said that she would love me."

"Well, I was wrong," Lex told him harshly.

Clark blinked, his face falling. "Oh," he said softly, dropping Lex's hand and pulling his legs to his chest.

"That's not what I mean, Clark." Lex sat up. "Of course she would have loved you. At least, my mother would have loved you. She would have spent hours brushing your hair, feeding you sweets, and showering love on you. But Pamela didn't even love me, so there wasn't any way she could have loved you. That's what I meant." He squeezed Clark's hand, and then lay back.

Clark stretched out next to him. "What do you mean she didn't love you?"

"She abandoned me, Clark," Lex said matter-of-factly, eyes distant. "After my mother died. My mother left Pamela stock, which she took and left the country. Left me." His lips twitched, but kept his face carefully neutral.

"She seemed so nice. She took care of me when I was freaking out, and she didn't even know me." Clark slipped under the sheets, rubbing circles on Lex's belly.

"Well, Pamela is a good actress. She fooled me. Sure, I was only thirteen, but I was a very sharp thirteen." Lex's hand slipped behind Clark's head, fingers threading in his hair. "I'm glad she took care of you, though. How many times did the memories take over?"

"Twice. One time it was an actual memory, and the rest were just your voice talking about her." He smiled lopsidedly. "I almost wish the memories hadn't stopped. I mean, I wish they hadn't faded away completely. I'm glad they stopped. It was kind of embarrassing rolling in the dirt in front of a beautiful woman. But, otherwise... I liked seeing you. Us, when we were kids. I want to remember more of you." His hand slid up to trace Lex's lips. "You were so beautiful when you were young."

Lex managed a real smile. "And now what am I?"

Clark kissed Lex softly. "There aren't enough words in the English language to describe you now."

He snorted. "That was sappy. Did you start poetry at school or something?"

"Maybe," Clark smirked, kissing Lex's upper then lower lip.

He made a contented noise deep in his throat. "I'm glad you remembered," Lex said sleepily.

"I'm sorry I made you pass out. The memory pulled me under before I could put up my shields."

"It's all right." His eyes slid shut.

"Are you tired?"

Lex nodded. "The pill Dr. Sutton gave me is kicking in."

Clark wrapped his arms around Lex, pulling him close. "Why was she here? Pamela, I mean."

"She wanted forgiveness. For leaving me. Claims my father threatened to disinherit me if she didn't leave."

"Well," Clark said after a moment, "what if he did? He's... frightening. And powerful. I could see him doing it."

"Does it really matter?"

"Yes. It means that she does love you. And... and she told me I should never be frightened away from some one I love, like she was. She loved you, Lex. Really."

Lex swallowed, eyes tightening. When he didn't say anything, Clark lay his head on the pillow, closing his eyes.

He was almost drifting off to sleep when Lex finally answered.

"If he had, I would have made it on my own," Lex said, sounding as if he were already asleep. "Or, maybe if she'd stayed, he'd have disowned me and started a family with someone else. And she could have adopted me."

Clark woke up, opening his eyes. "But then we never would have met."

"Yes we would have, Clark." Lex's fingertips tangled in his hair. "We would have found each other no matter where our paths might have led us. That's what destiny means."

"No, she doesn't know you," Lionel said, gazing at his son through penetrating eyes.

Lex gazed back at him, his own face expressionless.

After a long moment, Lionel rose. "I'm putting Cadmus on the market in three days. And I'm revoking your veto rights."

"Why am I not surprised? Thanks for dropping by, Dad. It's been a pleasure as always."

"Don't sulk, Lex; it's unbecoming," Lionel said sharply.

Lex shook his head. "I'm not sulking. Sell the labs; you're right. We don't need them. After all, the research area that you had thrown together at the crap factory is fine."

"I have other labs. It's being sold, we don't need it. Good-bye." With that, Lionel swept out of the room, his coat trailing behind him dramatically.

With an angry sigh, Lex rose. "You have other labs," he said viciously. "I don't." He picked up a paperweight and threw it at the door, watching it shatter with dull satisfaction.

"God fucking dammit," Lex swore. He strode out of the room, stepping over the glass that was shattered on the floor gingerly and stormed up to Damien's suite.

Damien was at his desk, working on the computer. "Did you need something, sir?"

With a clenched jaw, Lex went to the desk and leaned against it. "Dad's selling Cadmus Lab."

He frowned. "And the fact that you were given veto rights?"

"Apparently it doesn't matter. He's determined to sell it because the company is worthless." Lex rubbed his forehead, laughing faintly. "He expects regular reports on the meteor research, and then closes the place where it's taking place."

Damien closed his book. "Does he know that the research is coming out of Cadmus?"

"No. I didn't want him to find out. What with Dr. Sutton doing research on me out of there, and Hamilton researching the rocks, the possibility that Dad will put the two together and get Clark are too great. He's too interested in Clark as it is."

"Does Lionel have a buyer?"

Lex shook his head. "Not yet. He's putting it on the market in a few days."

Damien rose. "I'll call Dominic and arrange to get a competitive bid. I can created a false front tonight to bid under. Something small and inconspicuous."

He nodded, then looked at Damien. "Do you think there's enough in the account?" Lex asked, referring to his private "business" account. He'd started it when he was fifteen, putting half of any monetary gifts he received in it. When Lex had started selling drugs on the club scene, he'd opened a new account, one Lionel didn't know about it, and eventually started investing the money under an alias. When Damien had started working for Lex, he, too, had started transferring funds into it. Lex had originally both bought and sold Cadmus lab using the account, but now was afraid Lionel would be asking for more than he had.

Damien was silent a moment, obviously running the numbers through his mind. "We should," he answered after a moment. "The money your father gave me last December accrued a lot of interest; it should give us an edge. If we don't, Aimee Sutton will be able to cover the rest. She has money hidden away and would be only too happy to help. We'll keep it, sir."

Sighing, Lex nodded. "Thank you, Damien. You're a live saver."

"Of course."

"Chloe?"

Chloe looked up from the computer. "Whitney," she said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Looking uncomfortable, Whitney walked in, glancing around. "Is Clark here?"

"No, he's not. I think he went home, but he might turn up later."

He shook his head and walked further into the room. "No, I was hoping that he wasn't here. I wanted to talk to you without him around."

Chloe raised an eyebrow. This was definitely a first.

"Ok," she said slowly. "About what?"

"I was wondering... I've been reading some of the stuff about sexual assault that you've been putting everywhere."

"Yeah?"

"Well... it's all directed at the victim. I was wondering, do you have anything for friends of people who've been attacked?"

Chloe blinked. Of all the things she hadn't been expecting, this was probably on the top of the list. "Why?"

He flushed. "I think a friend of mine might have... I don't know if they were raped, but I think something happened to them. And I was wondering if you had anything that talked about the signs to look for. And what you should do if they were?" Whitney had his hands stuffed in his pockets and was gazing steadily at the ground.

Chloe raised an eyebrow. "No, I don't, but I should. Some of the sites have signs you can look for, but not much about what friends and family can do." She glanced at the computer. "You could always call one of the hotlines and talk to them about it. Well, I think you might be able to. I'm not sure."

Whitney nodded. "Maybe I will. But... do you have anything else?"

"Let me look online; I've been finding some good websites."

As Chloe turned back to the computer, Whitney pulled a chair up next to her. "Thanks. Mind if I stay?"

"Not at all." She called up one of the sites she'd already been to. Glancing at Whitney, she asked softly, "Can I ask who you're worried about?" Actually, Chloe was pretty sure she knew. She hadn't thought Lana would tell Whitney, but ...

"Well," he started, cheeks burning.

His cell phone rang, interrupting him. "Hello? Mom? Mom!" Whitney fell silent, all color draining. "Where are you? Just hang on. I'm on my way."

Closing his phone, Whitney bolted up. "I've got to go, Chloe."

"Is everything ok?" she asked.

"I don't know. I... I hope so. I'll see you later."

"Yeah. I'll keep looking and tell you what I find."

"Thanks."

Whitney was almost out the door when Chloe thought to add, "Good luck." Then, flushing, she said, "I mean, I hope things will be ok."

He smiled slightly. "Thanks. Me too." Then he left.

With a sigh, Chloe turned back to the computer and started her search.

Clark was in the Talon reading when Chloe approached his table.

"Mind if I join you?" she asked, tentatively.

He looked up. "Sure," he replied warily. He'd saved her, of course, because she was his best friend and a person in trouble, but he was still hurt by the fight they had had.

Chloe glanced at his book. "You're reading 'Harry Potter' again?"

"Yeah. I... I got into this story on the internet and thought I should brush up on the original." Clark smiled tentatively.

She returned it. "I told you it was addictive."

"You were right."

Chloe sighed and licked her bottom lip. "Clark, I am so sorry about what I said."

Clark stiffened and dropped his eyes to the book.

"I don't really think all that stuff about you and Lex. I know it didn't happen like that; I was just angry, that's all."

"I know."

"I mean, besides the fact Justin was a psycho murderer, you really didn't have a reason to dislike him. Not at first, at any rate. And, admit it: you do get unreasonably jealous when I'm interested in another guy."

He nodded slightly. "I know. But... I do kind of have a reason."

"Oh?"

Clark looked up. "Yeah. It's just... I liked it when you were with Lana because... because she knew about Lex and me. There were four of us, and we could get together and hang out. I didn't have to hide when you were with her. But... Justin and Sean, they didn't know, and I don't think I would be comfortable telling them. Ok, there is a chance that Justin maybe would have been cool with it. I don't know him all that well, but maybe. Sean would not have been ok. He's the type of person I'm afraid of," Clark told her, looking earnestly into her eyes. "And if he hadn't turned into a mutant, and the two of you had hooked up, we wouldn't been able to hang out as much."

"I'd always have time for you."

"But it wouldn't be the same. You and Lana used to come over and watch movies with us. And Lex and I could hold hands, because you two wouldn't say anything. Would a guy you were dating be able to handle it?"

Chloe shrugged. "I don't know. It's possible. But, Clark, if I meet someone, I'm not going to hold back because of this. It's not fair to me."

Clark sighed and squeezed her hand. "I know. And I'm not asking you to. I do want you to be happy. Really."

"I know. And I want you to be happy, too."

"So, we're still friends?" Clark asked.

"Always." She smiled at him, placing her hand on his. "And, just to reaffirm our friendship, we'll spend all day Saturday together at the convention in Metropolis."

Clark grinned. "Sounds perfect."

"Yes," Chloe said firmly, squeezing his hand. "It really does."

It was about three thirty a.m. when the phone rang, jerking Clark out of his dreams. He sat up, confused and groggy, rubbing his eyes, wondering what had woken him,.

The phone rang again. Clark reached for it and picked up the receiver. " 'lo?"

"Hi, Clark."

Clark snapped awake at Lex's monotone voice. "Lex?"

"Yeah."

"What's wrong?"

"Pamela's dying."

Clark sat up. "What?"

Lex cleared his throat and repeated, "Pamela's dying. My father came to see me, trying to figure out what she said to me. I got suspicious; he came all the way out just to tell me what I already knew. Then he said something to the effect of she only came to get money from me, which made no sense. And then, he let it slip that she has cancer." Lex fell silent.

"Lex?" Clark prompted after a moment of silence.

He sighed. "I went to see her. I... I don't want her to die, Clark."

"Me neither."

"I'm going back out to the hospital tomorrow. I've already lost nine years, and now I'm going to lose her forever. I want to spend what time I have left with her."

"I understand." Clark reached under the pillow and pulled Cal out. "How are you going to keep your father from finding out?" he asked, tucking the doll beneath his chin.

Lex snorted. "I'm not even going to try. I don't give a fuck; she's dying, she can't 'taint' me anymore." His voice softened. "Only you can."

Smiling, Clark laid his head on his pillow, pulling Cal tighter against him. "I'll be glad to continue." He licked his bottom lip. "Can I come?"

"I thought you were going to the funerals tomorrow."

"Oh. Right."

"And you have the convention on Saturday. Are you staying the week-end?"

"I could."

With a slight smile on his voice, Lex said, "I'll call your mother and ask if you could stay with me. I'll take both you and Chloe out to dinner on Saturday before she heads back to Smallville. Does that sound good?"

Clark nodded. "Yes." He hesitated. "How are you doing?"

Lex sighed. "I'm dying for a drink. Just a little something to help me sleep."

"Why can't you get one? Are you driving?"

"No. I'm in bed; it's just too much trouble to get up right now."

Frowning, Clark glanced at the doll in his arms. "Would it help if you had Cal?"

"Which one?" he asked, obviously amused.

"I can't stay, but I can bring the doll over, and he can."

Lex's sigh was a whisper over the line. "Bring him over."

"Ok." Clark hung up and dashed out of the room.

About a minute later he was kneeling by Lex's bed. "Here."

He was smiling faintly, moonlight making his skin glow. Eyes locked on Clark's, Lex reached up, took the doll, and set it aside. "Stay?" he whispered, threading his fingers in Clark's.

Clark crawled on the bed, wrapping himself around Lex. "I'm not supposed to. My parents want me home on school nights."

"School got canceled," Lex pointed out. "Too many funerals. That means you can stay."

"Lex," Clark sighed, kissing Lex's neck. His skin was cool, almost cold as the night air from the open window wafted over him. Clark continued down Lex's neck and peppering his skin over his collarbone with tiny kisses and nips. "You're a bad influence on me," he whispered as he continued up the other side, straddling Lex's body so he could reach.

"But you're a good influence on me." Lex arched, wrapping one arm around Clark's neck. "And I need you." He began massaging Clark's neck causing warm, fuzzy waves to roil through Clark's, lighting a spark in his groin.

"My parents said you should never need anyone." He tugged the sheet off, finding Lex clad only in his--tented--boxers.

"Clark, please don't talk about you parents right now," Lex asked, wiggling out of his boxers.

Clark licked Lex's nipple before pulling back to yank his clothes off. "I shouldn't be doing this," he breathed as he bent back over Lex, pressing his cock into Lex's hip. His teeth sank into Lex's nipple, causing him to inhale sharply.

"Don't stop," he groaned as Clark sucked on his nipple, teasing it with the tip of his tongue. "If you stop, I will never speak to you again." He was petting Clark, starting at his head and running down, massaging the muscles in Clark's back, touching every bit of him as if to assure himself that Clark really did belong to him.

Clark allowed his body to relax, going limp on top of Lex. As Lex pet him more, he crawled up Lex's body, finding his mouth.

"Hey," Clark whispered, kissing Lex.

Lex answered by parting his lips, welcoming Clark inside. His tongue met Clark's, rubbing against in gently, causing Clark to moan deep in his throat and press against him. Cupping the back of Lex's head, Clark deepened the kiss, feeling as if he were trying to swallow Lex hole. His mind gently ^nudged^ at Lex's until he dropped his shields, allowing Clark to ^slide^ into him.

Warmth engulfed Clark, making his fingers tingle and groin tighten. For a moment, he pitied people who didn't--couldn't--have this connection that he and Lex had. They never really were a part of each other they way he was a part of Lex. Belonged to Lex.

He broke off the kiss, hissing as Lex's fingers began delicately probing at his entrance, teasing the sensitive skin.

"Lex," he moaned raggedly as Lex's finger pressed inside him, squirming inside him.

Lex grinned, his lips swollen and red. "What?" Sliding under Clark further to have better access, Lex pressed father inside.

Clark's eyes squeezed shut as Lex crawled from underneath him. It wasn't enough, and Clark's stomach was clenched so tightly he could hardly breathe as Lex's slim finger--not enough--wormed further inside him, scratching him oddly. Nothing had ever been inside him without being coated with some form of lubricant, and this felt so different. Pinpricks of... well, not pain of course, but something... Like the feeling he used to get when he rubbed his father's wool sweater against his face; that same scratchy torment that was suddenly the most delicious thing he'd ever felt.

"Do you like it?" Lex asked, crooking his finger to trail up and down the passage.

"Yes," Clark managed, throat constricted. "More."

"How many?"

"Anything. All of them, Lex, just more. One... one isn't enough."

Clark could ^feel^ rather than see the evil smile that spread over Lex's face. He scratched inside with his blunt nail, causing Clark to cry out and tear the sheets a little, before adding another finger.

"How's this?" he asked as his fingers slowly probed. "Is two enough?"

"No."

Lex tisked. "Really, Clark, you are a needy boy." His fingers twitched as if he were going to stretch Clark, but nothing happened.

"Lex! Fucking do something," Clark sobbed, trying to buck against Lex's fingers.

"I am."

"More, please."

"Or what?" The fingers moved so slightly, Clark would have thought he was imagining it if he didn't know better.

He inhaled hard. "I'll get you back, Lex."

"Promise?" Lex breathed in his ear, tongue tracing the shell lightly. A third finger slid inside.

He moaned and squirmed as Lex began moving his fingers inside, still not stretching and still not what he wanted, but enough to cause the prickly/fiery feeling to grow. The pads of his fingers brushed against him lightly as Lex pumped in and out. It was slow and jerky, his fingers getting caught slightly every few inches, although Clark wasn't sure if that was from lack of lubricant or if Lex was deliberately trying to increase the friction. Whatever it was, it worked; sweat suddenly appeared all over Clark as his body caught fire.

Cock throbbing with need, he began rubbing against the sheets. Clark had his face buried in the bed, breathing in Lex's scent as he worked himself, trying to find some form of release.

Clark didn't feel pain. He could be hit by a bus and all he felt was the impact, as if something was pushing him away. But, when he was aroused, he interpreted pain differently-- a lot differently. He and Lex had discovered that, when aroused, pain was translated into pleasure for Clark, adding a new dimension to their love making. So, when Lex smacked him on his right ass cheek, the sensation sang through him, making his limbs tingle with desire.

Lex smacked him again. "Don't, Clark."

"I have to," he protested, grinding again into the bed.

Lex pulled his fingers out of Clark and reached under the bed.

"Lex? What... oh fuck," he managed to get out as Lex lowered the paddle across his ass with a vicious stroke. Cock twitching, Clark rolled over and grabbed it by the base, trying not to come.

"I told you to stop," Lex said, gripping the paddle.

"You aren't playing fair."

The paddle began tapping against Lex's leg as he gazed down at Clark. "Do you mind?"

"Of course not. It feels good."

"Then roll the fuck back over." Lex lifted the paddle.

An evil smile on his face, Clark caught Lex between his legs and slammed him down to the bed.

"Clark!" Lex yelped, trying to scramble away, but Clark pinned him down, squeezing Lex's wrist.

"Drop it, Lex," he whispered, trying to gain control of the paddle.

"No. Mine!" Lex held it above his head, then brought it down on Clark's back. "Back off."

"Stop being so greedy."

"I thought you wanted me to paddle you," Lex gasped, squirming as Clark began tickling him. "You like it; I don't."

Clark ran his fingers over Lex's stomach, hitting all the sensitive spots. "I do like it. I just want to show you something."

Lex's hand broke free. He swept his arm down and delivered a stinging blow to Clark's ass, causing him to stiffen, fingers losing their rhythm. When Lex hit him again, Clark went limp, groaning loudly and grinding his cock into Lex's hip.

"And I just want to stick my fist up your ass," Lex replied calmly. Managing to squirm out from under Clark's dead weight, Lex hit him again. "Don't you want that?" Smack.

"Oh, God, yes," Clark moaned, once again bucking into the sheets.

"Clark!" Smack, smack, smack. "Stop that. Or I won't do it." He raised the paddle again and was about to deliver another blow when Clark, moving too fast for Lex to see, turned over, snatched the paddle away and tossed it across the room. Then, as Lex was beginning to realize what happened, Clark grabbed a bottle of lubricant from the nightstand and pinned him to the bed.

Lex was panting under him, lying still. "That was not fair."

"Who said I played fair?" Clark breathed in Lex's ear. He licked the shell before tugging the lobe with his teeth. He began spreading the lube on his cock while rubbing his face against Lex's skin. Lex was so soft, his skin silky, unlike anyone else. Clark knew the meteors had something to do with it, possibly the only good thing that they had done. It was an addictive texture, one Clark could spend hours worshiping with his hands, lips, and tongue.

"So beautiful," Clark murmured, scraping his teeth lightly at the juncture of Lex's neck and shoulder. Starting from Lex's head, Clark kissed his way down Lex's back. He stopped to bite the base of Lex's neck, then around each shoulder blade, the small of his back, and each ass cheek. Then, catching a drop of sweat that was sliding down Lex's spin, Clark traveled back up and began licking him.

He started with the tip of his tongue, painting a thin line from the crown of Lex's head to small of his back. As he continued action, he licked with more and more of his tongue, until the flatof it was laving Lex's spine, lapping at the sweaty skin.

"See?" Clark said. He sucked on a fleshy part of Lex's hip until it was rosy. "This is so much more fun."

"More," Lex gasped back. "Don't tease me."

"Payback's a bitch." But he took pity on his trembling lover. First he trailed his fingers lightly over Lex's back, next to his spine. Then, as Lex melted into the bed, Clark bared his teeth and bit along the same trail until Lex was screaming.

"Want me to stop?" Clark asked, suddenly afraid he'd gone too far. Lex's last scream was loud.

"Did you hear the safe word?" Lex got out through ground teeth, his hips now pressing into the bed rhythmically.

Clark smiled. "Good." His tongue then slid down into the cleft of Lex's ass, causing Lex's head to whip up. Clark licked it again, wetting the area as he did.

Lex growled as Clark blew a stream of air against the wet flesh. Smiling, Clark licked again, then blew a tighter stream.

"Like that?" When Lex didn't answer, Clark pinched his ass. "Lex?"

"Yes," came the broken sob.

Clark began teasing the hole with the tip of his tongue, pressing in and out with butterfly swiftness, just fast and shallow enough to tease. After each thrust, he licked over the pucker, fingers kneading the skin around Lex's hips, holding him in place.

"Stop torturing me," Lex groaned. "Clark, I... shit!" he shouted as Clark thrust his tongue in deeply.

Spiraling it around, Clark began fucking Lex with his tongue hard and fast. Lex was shaking and mewling softly, trying to thrust his hips back, trying to force Clark to go deeper.

With one last thrust, Clark pulled away. "Do you want me to stretch you?" Clark asked, sitting up.

"No," Lex said with a hint of a sob in his voice. "Just fuck me. Now. Please."

He coated himself a little more. Lex swore up and down it didn't hurt to be taken without preparation, but no matter how many times he did it, Clark always felt nervous. The only thing he could do was make sure he was slick enough to slide in easily. "Ready?" Clark asked softly. He wiped his hand off on the sheets and grabbed Lex's hips. Before he answered, Clark thrust into him roughly, not stopping until he was buried to the hilt.

Head thrown back, Lex wailed as Clark did. "Clark," he whispered raggedly, hips moving very slightly.

"Can you... on your hands and knees?" Clark managed to get out, beginning to pump hard into Lex.

Lex scrambled to his knees, his head hanging down. The moonlight fell lightly on the bed, illuminating Lex's face enough for Clark to see his expression.

"God, Lex. I wish you had a mirror," Clark panted, something fiery uncoiling in his belly. "I... I want to see you. See me fucking you. See you get f-fucked." For emphasis, he slammed into Lex.

One of Lex's arms gave out and he fell to the bed. Clark held firm as he continued to drive into Lex, who was moaning with each thrust.

After a long moment, Lex managed to push himself back up. "I'll get a mirror. I promise. Just... don't stop. Harder." Lex began bucking back against Clark, back arching, fingers digging into the bed.

Clark suddenly grabbed Lex around the waist, hauling him back so he was seated on Clark. One hand wrapped around Lex's slim waist, the other clenched on the bed, Clark bit his bottom lip and began thrusting up into Lex, using his legs for leverage.

Lex's head fell back on his shoulder, one arm around Clark's head. "Harder, Clark. Fuck... fuck m-me!" His voice rose to almost a squeak as Clark complied, pounding harder into the tight passage.

Clark was moaning now with every thrust, the sound of his flesh slamming into Lex's joining his moans and Lex's desperate noises. His fingernails dug into Lex's stomach scratching the soft flesh, marking Lex as his.

"I want you to c-come. Now," Clark ordered, taking Lex's cock and jerking it furiously.

Lex nodded, inhaling sharply. "Clark, harder. Just... like that," he gasped, riding Clark's cock hard and fast.

Clark's tongue chased a drop of sweat down his neck before he sank his teeth into the junction between Lex's neck and shoulder. The skin broke, the copper taste of blood breaking on his tongue as it did.

Lex threw his head back and screamed, sweat slicked body arching away from Clark's. His ass clamped around Clark's aching cock in a vice-like grip, causing Clark's own orgasm to burst through him violently.

With a howl, Clark came, tearing away the mental shields and ripping through both of them. The force of it lifted them off the bed, Clark's still buried inside Lex, arms holding him tightly.

A long time later, Clark managed to get them back onto the bed. It shuddered slightly as they fell.

With a soft sigh, Clark pulled out and moved so he was lying next to Lex. He propped himself up on one elbow, gazing at him lovingly.

Lex's eyes were closed, lashes damp with sweat. The moonlight highlighted his rosy flush, making him look heart-achingly beautiful.

Clark kissed him softly, and then nipped him on the ear. "I have to go," he whispered, sliding out of bed.

"Stay," Lex moaned, reaching out for Clark. His hands slid off Clark's body, not finding any purchase on the sweaty skin.

"I can't, Lex. I really have to get home now before Dad wakes up." He zipped to the bathroom for a wet washcloth and back to the bedroom. He cleaned Lex off first, wiping away the come, before cleaning himself.

Lex pried his eyes open and sighed. "Please stay?"

Clark, who had tugged on his clothing, zipped his jeans. "Call me tomorrow if you need to talk," he whispered, leaning over the bed to kiss Lex. "I'll be home after the funerals. Kwan's is first and should be done around eleven. Nell is hosting a reception afterwards, but I'll be with Chloe, so if you need me, call me on her cell. Mr. Fordman's funeral should end around four or so. I should be home afterwards."

"Ok." He stretched slightly, eyes on Clark. "Before you go, can you clean the bite? I don't want it to get infected."

"Yeah." He sped to the bedroom for some alcohol, cotton, and a bandage. A heart beat later, he was kneeling next to the bed, searching for the wound. "It's gone," he said after a moment, lightly stroking the skin with his fingertips. Only blood remained, covering now unblemished skin.

"Oh. Right, you and that healing thing." Lex yawned, eyes falling shut. "I like that."

Kissing him on the forehead, Clark whispered, "Sleep well, Lex."

"You too."

They kissed once more before Clark reluctantly pulled away. He was just about to speed out the door when Lex said, "Thanks for bringing my doll over."

Clark threw a smile back at Lex. "You're welcome." Then he was gone.

Chloe wasn't often proven so very wrong, but, in this case, she was almost happy. Except for the part where everyone was at a funeral, that is.

Almost the entire school was at the cemetery. Not as many had gone to the church service beforehand, but the turnout had been respectable. But it had been nothing compared to the sight that awaited them at the cemetery.

Mrs. Kwan had been almost overwhelmed when they saw the crowd at the gravesite. She had started sobbing, clinging to Danny.

The minister said a prayer and a few words, and then asked if anyone would like to say anything.

After an uneasy moment during which everyone looked at each other, Chloe stepped forward.

"A few months back, Principal Kwan confronted me about my reporting style," Chloe said a bit awkwardly. "At the time, I thought he was being unreasonable. After all, I felt the world had the right to know the truth about... about things I couldn't really prove. I was really angry at him, at first, and then, as I got over it, I realized something. He wasn't doing it to be mean, or because he didn't like me. I think he did it because he knew I could do better. Which I could."

She brushed a hair out of her eyes and glanced down into the grave. "I learned two important things from that incident: first off, if you want to change the world, start small. Build up it, and ease people in. And, two, it takes a big person to admit that he was wrong, or made a rash decision." Chloe laughed slightly. "I don't know if he meant to teach me the second, but I learn by example. Principal Kwan was a man with high standards and strong beliefs, but he was able to change his mind and give me a second chance. And that taught me a lot." Looking back into the grave, Chloe said softly, "Thank you, sir." Tossing her flower into the grave, Chloe walked back to Clark.

He put his arm around her and held her close. "Did you mean that?"

Surreptitiously wiping away a tear, Chloe shrugged. "Maybe not about my stories, but he showed some fortitude in recanting his position. So, yeah."

After that, many other kids went up, all with positive things to say. A lot of it sounded like they just wanted to say something good about a man that they had hated for so long simply because he was the principal, but that was fine, in Chloe's opinion. Death changes people, at least right after it happened. And funerals were for the living to share and purge their grief. If the twelfth graders who had planned to key Kwan's car on the last day of school wanted to wax poetic about his genius for administration today, it didn't matter to Chloe. She'd said her bit, exorcised her demons, and was moving on.

Nell held the reception at the Talon afterwards. Chloe had heard a rumor that the PTA had pitched in to pay for it. Most people didn't stay long, they just stopped in for coffee, sandwiches and conversation before heading back to their lives.

Chloe and Clark ensconced themselves at a booth in back, sitting side by side so close their bodies were pressed together. Chloe was reading "Pride and Prejudice" for school, and Clark was on the last "Harry Potter" book.

"You're a very fast reader," Chloe remarked as Clark turned the page. "You were on the second book two days ago."

"Three. And I've been staying up late to read."

"Ah. And the slash?"

Clark blushed. "I'm on a list now."

"I love you."

He snorted and turned the page.

It suddenly sounded as if a thousand people were stamping their feet on the roof. Chloe frowned and glanced out the window. The rain that had been threatening all day had finally started, sheets of rain pouring down, practically obscuring the street.

"Great," she said wryly. "Just what this day needs." Checking her watch, Chloe asked, "Do you think it'll let up by the time Mr. Fordman's funeral starts?"

Chloe could practically see Clark shut down. Shrugging, he lowered his head. "Maybe."

"Are you ok?"

He nodded, but Chloe wasn't convinced. She kept a close eye on him the rest of the day. She watched the shutters fall over his eyes when they reached the cemetery. She noticed how his face went from being impassive to terribly sad as the funeral progressed. She saw how his eyes seemed permanently glued to Whitney's face, and wondered what was going through his mind.

"I'm going... I'll be back," he whispered to her after the Fordmans and Lana left. And Clark wandered off into the storm, walking away from the rest of town.

Three hours later, he hadn't come home.

Sighing, Chloe rested her hand on her cheek and sipped her soda. Martha and Jonathan were in the living room, but Chloe had camped out in the kitchen, wanting to be the first to know when he got home. The Kents had told her not to worry, but she couldn't help it. Ever since Lex had told her what had happened, Chloe had been sensitive to Clark's moods. Yes, she hadn't been the best friend when it came to listening to him about Justin, but she was determined to make up for that. Something about the funerals had upset him deeply, and Chloe was going to be there to listen to what was wrong.

Her phone rang.

Grabbing it, Chloe only dropped it once before answering it. "Hello? Clark?"

"No," Lana replied. "It's me. I take it he's still missing?"

Chloe nodded, face falling. "Yeah."

"How are his parents?"

"They're fine." Chloe glanced at the living room, where Jonathan and Martha were together, reading. "They think he's just gone for a really long walk and will be back soon. But I'm scared. He just... left. It's not like him."

"It isn't?" Lana asked in an even tone.

She sighed. "Well, it is. You're right. It's just... this feels different, you know?"

Lana was silent a moment. "Yes," she finally answered. "I think I do. Are you sure he's not with Lex?"

"Lex is in Metropolis. I was going to call him, but Mr. and Mrs. Kent told me not to worry about it. They told me not to call anyone, but I had to check with you." Chloe chewed on her bottom lip. "I'm worried, Lana."

"Me too." Lana fell silent.

Not sure what to say next, Chloe traced the wood grains on the table top with her finger morosely.

After a moment, Lana said, "Well, if he turns up, call me, all right?"

"Yeah, I will."

"Thank you. Talk to you soon. And Chloe?"

"Yeah?"

"Clark's really lucky to have you as a friend."

Startled, Chloe didn't know what to say.

"Uh," Lana said, sounding embarrassed, "Bye." The line went dead.

"Bye," she replied to empty air before hanging up. A small smile stole over her face, which she tried to quash. "You're over her," Chloe reminded herself sternly.

The door creaked open. A gust of wind swept through the room, making her shiver.

"Chloe?" Clark's voice said. "What are you doing here?"

Chloe sat up. Clark was in the doorway, soaked to the bone.

"Oh, thank God," she breathed, rushing to him.

Clark returned her hug, though he seemed tentative about it. "Chloe, I'm really wet."

"I know." Chloe pulled back, shivering. "You're freezing. Where have you been?"

"Clark?" Martha called, rushing into the room. She marched to her son, taking hold of his wet coat. "Where have you been?" she demanded, her cheeks flushed. Obviously she had been more worried than she had let on.

Clark shrugged. "Walking. I'm sorry I didn't tell you where I was going. I didn't mean to be gone so long."

Fussing over him, Martha shook her head. "It's all right, Clark. Just... tell us next time. You're soaked. Go change out of your wet clothes. I'll heat up some soup and cocoa."

"Sounds good, Mom," Clark said with a smile, but it seemed forced to Chloe. "Be back in a sec." He pulled away and headed out to the barn.

Fifteen minutes later, he hadn't come back.

Chloe pulled herself away from the window and turned to Martha. "Can I just go out to him?"

Martha nodded. "Since it seems like he's forgotten where the house is, I think it's the best option." She pulled out a tray and fixed it up. "Find out what's wrong," she told Chloe as she carried the tray to the door.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Kent. I intend to," she replied.

The rain had let up since the funeral, and Chloe made it across the yard to the barn only getting a little damp.

"Clark?" she called as she climbed the stairs.

Clark's head appeared over the banister. "I was coming in," he said, jogging down to take the heavy tray from her.

"I wanted to eat out here. It's more comfortable."

Shooting her a look, Clark went to the rug and sat down. He took the lid off the tureen and began ladling soup into the bowls. "More comfortable, right. You just wanted to get me alone."

"Kind of." She shivered suddenly. "Uh... it's really cold in here."

"Sorry." Clark stood turned the space heater on. "It'll warm up soon."

"Thanks." Chloe sipped some soup.

Clark sat back down. "Why are you here?"

"You disappeared, Clark. I was really worried."

"I told you I was going for a walk," he protested.

"Yeah, after completely shutting down at the funeral! And you were gone for hours in the pouring rain. No one knew where you were."

Clark shrugged. "I just needed some time to clear my head, that's all. I didn't mean to make you worry."

"You're back now; that's what's important. But... what's going on, Clark?"

"Nothing."

"Don't give me that. Something is bothering you. What is it?"

"Why do you care?" he asked belligerently.

"I'm your best friend, Clark!" Chloe exclaimed. Then she made herself calm down. After Whitney had asked, Chloe had found some web sites that talked about what friends of rape victims should do. One of the major points was to be supportive and open, and not to get angry or frustrated when talking to them about their feelings on the subject. And while Chloe wasn't sure if Clark was upset about the attempted rape, the experience was affecting his reactions to everything else. She wanted Clark to be able to talk to her; yelling at him was not way to go.

Softening her voice, she added, "Best friends tell each other stuff."

"You'd think I was crazy," he said, stirring his soup.

"No, I wouldn't."

"You really want to know?" Clark asked, looking at her through his lashes.

"Of course. And I won't think you're crazy. I promise."

Clark sighed. "Ok." He set his soup bowl back on the tray and folded his hands in his lap. Chloe noticed he was sitting up very straight, looking very young. "A few months ago, back in October, I had a... a nightmare."

When he didn't go on, Chloe prompted. "A nightmare? Like... what was it about?"

He took a deep breath. "It was raining. And night. I was... I was kneeling in the mud and soaked. I guess I had been there for a long time, but... there was a flash of lightning and I realized I was in a... in a cemetery." Clark swallowed hard. "I was in a cemetery, and there were tombstones everywhere. They were encircling me, all around and, when the lightening went again, I could see it was an unending forest. Thousands of tombstones and no people. And the names on the tombstones were... Everyone I knew was dead. Every single person and that's when I realized I was the last person on earth. The only one left alive and I was going to have to... to live for eternity with no one and..." Clark broke off abruptly, voice cracking.

Chloe forced herself not to say anything. This wasn't what she had been expecting, but it was very obvious that Clark was really upset about this dream. And she understood, sort of. Chloe'd had some bad dreams when she was a kid, and more recently she'd had some suspenseful dreams about Justin, but nothing that really stayed with her.

Clark's nightmare was different. More real, she guessed, however surreal the dream had seemed. And she knew he wasn't making it up; Clark wasn't this good an actor, and Chloe could tell that he was really upset right now. Besides, thinking back, the problem wasn't new. As long as she'd known him, Clark had periodically shown up to school looking tired and saying he wasn't sleeping well. Nightmares were probably a frequent problem for him, and stayed with him longer than hers.

She wondered if it had something to do with being orphaned. Lana had nightmares, Chloe knew. Every once in awhile, while they had been dating, Lana had called in the middle of the night, panicky and out of breath. Of course, she'd seen her parents get killed before her eyes and Clark...

For the first time in a long time, Chloe wondered exactly what had happened to Clark's birth mother. And what Clark might have seen happen to her.

Clark wiped his eyes, looking shamefaced. "So many people have died or gotten hurt or taken away this year. They've mutated or... whatever. It's all been due to some extraordinary event, something that's out of my control, but I can do something about. You know? Like... like with Tyler; he was going to kill Whitney's dad, did you know that? And I stopped him. And Tina Greer, or Jeff Palmer or... or all the others. It was something I could fight."

"Do you... do you feel bad for not being there for Kwan?"

Shaking his head, Clark replied, "No. Well, yes, but... I'm starting to come to terms with the idea I can't be everywhere. I can't always save everyone. I'd like to, but I just didn't know what was going on."

"That's a really good attitude to take, Clark," Chloe said, trying to sound as supportive as she could. "You _can't_ be there all the time."

"No, I know." Clark wiped a tear from under his eyes quickly. "But... it's Mr. Fordman. His death is just so much more real. He just... died. No mutants, no meteor rocks, nothing out of the ordinary. He just got sick and died and there was nothing I could do."

Chloe's heart began to beat oddly. "Clark..."

"When my dad got sick, I felt more helpless than I had in my entire life. I couldn't do anything, and now... I realize that there's so much I can't do. Maybe everyone isn't going to die because of some disaster. Maybe everyone is going to die of illness or... old age or something and I'll be left behind."

"Clark, you..."

"I don't want to be alone, Chloe! And I'm so afraid I'm going to be. Everyone I love is going to die, and I'm going to keep on living and..." He broke off, turning away from her.

Chloe rose and went to him. Her impulse was to comfort him, to assure him that Clark too would get old and die, and he wouldn't get left behind. But, something inside told her that it wasn't what he needed--nor wanted--to hear right now. He wouldn't listen, or believe her.

So all she could give him was comfort.

Wrapping her arms around him, Chloe held him close and whispered, "You won't be alone, Clark. I promise, I won't let you be alone."

Clark turned into her embrace and held her back, practically crushing her in his arms. He clung to her, but didn't say a word.

"Hey. Are you all tucked in?"

"Yes, I am. I've been waiting for you to call. You're right on time."

Lex laughed. "I'm nothing if not punctual."

"Yes, you are. How's Metropolis?"

"Oh, it's great," he answered dryly. "I didn't leave the hospital at all today, no matter how much Pamela tried to convince me I didn't have to stay. When she slept, I worked; when she was awake, we talked. I read to her some, we caught up on old times. Actually, except for the hospital part, it was nice. I've missed her."

"I know you have. Did you tell her about me?"

"No. I was going to wait until you were here. Do you mind?"

Clark shook his head. "Not as long as you're going to tell her. I wouldn't want to think that you're ashamed of me."

Soft laughter floated over the line. "Never, angel."

A warm glow suffused Clark and his lids grew a bit heavier. He never seemed to be really tired until he'd talked to Lex every night; there was something soothing and satisfying about their nightly ritual, and Clark couldn't sleep without hearing Lex's voice before going to bed.

"How was your day?" Lex asked.

"Oh, great," Clark said dryly. "Two funerals and a rainstorm. What was not to love?" He sighed. "Whitney was crushed. I hope he'll be ok."

"He'll be fine. Not at first, and he'll be depressed for awhile, but he'll get through." Lex hesitated, then added in a flat voice, "Apparently he has you as a friend."

"He's not so bad, Lex, really. I mean, he's got a lot of faults, sure, but who doesn't?"

Lex snorted. "Unfortunately one of his faults is that he tied you up in a field and left you there to die."

"Lex," Clark protested, "he didn't know the necklace made me sick. It was just a prank."

"Only in this town would a hate crime be called a prank."

"I don't want to talk about it," he said stiffly.

Lex sighed. "Fine."

"Fine." Clark chewed on his bottom lip. "Chloe was almost normal today," he said after a moment.

"Normal for a person or normal for Chloe?"

"Chloe is normal for a person."

"No, Chloe is normal for an aspiring journalist. There's a difference."

"Whatever." Clark grabbed his favorite quilt and pulled it over him. "I meant she was normal for Chloe. It's just... she's been acting weird lately. Um, suddenly she's, like, obsessed with rape and sexual assault and stuff. It's just strange." He took a deep breath, feeling shaky. "You wouldn't know why she might, would you?"

Lex was silent.

Heart beating rapidly, Clark sat up. "Lex?"

Lex cleared his throat. "Uh, no, I wouldn't."

Clark felt as if he'd been hit in the stomach with a freight train. He was suddenly disconnected from himself, as if his body and mind were very far away from each other.

He cleared his throat and asked, "Why? Why would you do that, Lex? Why would you tell her?"

"She figured it out herself, Clark, really. Chloe is observant."

"Oh, so she looked at me and figured out that... that... She figured out what happened?" Clark demanded, wiping an errant tear that slid down his face.

"Not exactly, but... yes. She brought up your behavior, I told her that something happened at my father's, and she put it together."

"You told her!" Clark shouted. "How could you do that to me?"

"Clark, calm down!"

Clark slammed the phone down and pulled the covers over his head. He couldn't believe what Lex had done. Lex promised not to tell anyone unless Clark said he could, and yet, without checking first, he'd told Clark's best friend.

Clark had never been so embarrassed in his life.

The phone rang but he ignored it.

/Clark, listen.../

Clark slammed his mental shields down, sobbing. Lex had betrayed him, and Clark didn't know how he was going to forgive him.

In his apartment in Metropolis, Lex gazed at the ceiling blankly. He'd hurt Clark. What's more, Lex knew he shouldn't have said anything to Chloe, and had known that since he'd let it slip. In the days that had followed, Lex had hoped Chloe would somehow forget about what he had revealed, or, at the very least, let him handle it.

Obviously, she hadn't. Not that Lex was all that surprised.

The bad part about everything was that Lex he couldn't have kept the secret anymore. He'd hoped that Clark would talk to him about what happened when he was ready but, months after the incident, Clark was still as withdrawn and sensitive about the subject as ever.

And Lex continued to feel as if he'd failed Clark beyond forgiveness.

Now, maybe, he had. No, he shouldn't have told Chloe, but Lex needed to share it with someone. Clark's best friend seemed to be the best choice.

Ok, maybe Clark's parents would have been the best choice, but Chloe was easier. Jonathan would blame Lex, and Martha...

Well, in failing Clark, Lex failed Martha as well.

Lex sighed and rolled onto his stomach. He'd call Clark tomorrow during the convention. With any luck, Clark would be calm enough to talk to him then.

And maybe Clark would be able to forgive him.

A creak on the stairs woke Clark late that night, sounding loud and startling against the soft, muted patter of rain. Heart pounding, he sat up, turning the lamp on.

"Hello?" he called, holding the comforter tightly, ready to spring into action should the intruder prove hostile.

Whitney's head appeared between the slats of the banister. "It's me," he said sounding tired. He crossed the room. "Is it all right if I hang here for awhile?"

Clark's relief washed over him swiftly, leaving his limbs feeling slightly shaky as he relaxed. He nodded. "Of course."

Nodding in thanks, Whitney flopped onto the rug, stretching out.

Clark climbed out of bed and sat by him. "How are you?"

"Don't know. I'm kind of numb right now. At the funeral, I... I wasn't. It all really hit me, seeing the... the coffin in the ground." He smiled faintly, gazing into infinity. "Then we went home. All my aunts are staying over and they've been fussing over my mom and me all night. It was so annoying. 'Oh, poor thing,'" Whitney said, mimicking someone in his family in a falsetto voice. "'Man of the house and so young! You have to take care of your mother, now. You'd better do a good job, too, or I'll come down and take you over my knee. I still can, you know.'" He laughed, but it sounded hollow. "My aunt Sally is four foot nine."

"Was she serious?"

"Naw. Well, not about that. I don't know how serious they are about the man of the house thing. On the one hand, everyone keeps telling me I have to take care of my mother now, and be strong for her. And then, they're all talking about how to get me into college next fall. Maybe get me out of Smallville."

"What are they suggesting?"

"Everything from selling the store and moving, to asking my uncle to come and take over. My mom'd rather he come out. Smallville is her home, and she doesn't want to leave. If he does come, they want me to try and at least go to community college in the city. I'd probably have to move out there and work week-ends or something, unless I only went once or twice a week and just commuted."

Clark inched closer to Whitney, a tentative smile on his face. "That's good, though, right? You were worried about getting stuck in Smallville. It's your ticket out."

Looking at Clark, Whitney shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. But it's just not what I want to think about right now." He rolled onto his stomach and grabbed the foam basketball that was by Clark's bed.

"What do you want to think about?"

Aiming carefully at the hoop off the wall at the foot of Clark's bed, Whitney shot the ball. Then he shrugged. "I'm not sure. Just... I want some time to get used to all this first. Then I'll worry about going to college or whatever. The future isn't exactly on my mind."

Clark got the ball and sat back down. "I understand that." He tossed the ball, making it easily.

"Good shot."

"Thanks."

Clark could feel Whitney's eyes on him as he retrieved the ball. When he sat down, he was closer to Whitney than he meant to be. "What?" he asked uncomfortably as Whitney continued to look at him.

"Nothing, I just... Why don't you have a girlfriend?"

Flushing, Clark squirmed uncomfortably. "I don't know."

"It doesn't make sense on a lot of levels. You're a good listener, which women love. You're compassionate, very good looking, and just an all around nice guy. No, you're not a sports star, but not everyone is looking for that. Besides, I know for a fact that if you asked her, Lana would be yours."

Clark dropped his eyes, steadily studying his feet. "I, uh. I don't really like Lana like that anymore. I mean, sure, I had a crush on her forever, but... it's kind of faded now. We're friends, and I'm really happy with that."

Whitney looked interested. "What about Chloe? Because I think the two of you would be good together."

"No. Chloe and I are good friends. She's my best friend in some ways, but... no."

"Do you not want a girlfriend?" Whitney asked, moving closer to Clark.

He shrugged. "I don't know. No. I..." He hesitated before saying, "My life is just really weird."

"Everyone 's life is weird, Clark. You shouldn't use that as an excuse for not going for something you want."

Clark sighed and squeezed the ball. "If there was someone I wanted to be with, I would go for h...her." Closing his eyes, he mentally chastised himself. He'd been really close to saying 'him' and was too afraid of Whitney's reaction to let something like that slip. "But, right now, there just isn't anyone."

Whitney nodded, rubbing his eyes. "I understand. I... I haven't been interested in anyone since Lana and I broke up." He paused. "Actually, though, I'm thinking about maybe asking her out again."

"Really?" Clark asked, looking up.

"Yeah, maybe. I haven't decided. Lana's been... really supportive ever since my dad got sick. She understood when I was too busy to be with her, but, when I needed her, she was there. I'm comfortable with her. She's good looking. And... I've just been thinking that maybe I should start planning for the future. You know, try to find someone to have a serious relationship with. I mean, the relationship with."

"Wait a second," Clark said, his tired brain trying to put what Whitney was saying together. "Are you talking about getting engaged to her?"

He shook his head. "No, but dating her seriously with the intent of maybe getting engaged."

Clark knew he was gaping at Whitney, but couldn't help it. "Why? You haven't even graduated high school yet. Do you really love Lana that much?"

"No," Whitney answered, sounding defensive. "But I think I could. And I just don't want to be alone."

"But you shouldn't be with someone just because of that. You should be with someone because... because you really love them. And they make you feel complete. It's a different feeling than just... hooking up with someone to fill the void. When it's the right person, you don't even know there is a void until you're with them," Clark said. "Is that how you feel about her?"

Sighing, Whitney moved to he was next to Clark, back pressed against the bed. He held his head in his hands. "No. When I'm with Lana, I feel... comfortable, but just like I'm with a buddy. I don't feel like this part of me that's been missing has been found. Is that what you meant?"

Clark nodded. "Yeah. Kind of."

"I just don't know what I want anymore, Clark. It used to all be simple: get out of Smallville, play pro ball, and marry someone pretty and popular. But... it all seems so trite, now. All of that just disappears so quickly if you're not careful, and I want more. I want..."He shrugged and raised his head so he could look at Clark. "I want something deeper than all that. Something more meaningful."

"I know what you mean. When... when your illusions about the world get shattered by something, you're left with this feeling of... loss. And you need to know what it all really means," Clark said softly. Thinking of Lex, he smiled slightly. "When you find that something more, everything just makes more sense."

"I'm just so afraid I won't be able to find it," Whitney said hoarsely. Inhaling sharply, he turned away from Clark. His shoulders were shaking.

Clark didn't say anything, letting Whitney cry in peace.

After a few minutes, Whitney wiped his eyes and turned back. "I'm sorry."

Shaking his head, Clark touched Whitney lightly on the arm and said, "It's ok. I understand."

Whitney's face crumpled slightly and he said, "I knew you would."

And then, Whitney kissed Clark.

Frozen, Clark didn't do anything. He couldn't. His heart was pounding, fists clenched in his sweatpants, and Clark just couldn't move. He was scared and excited and guilty all at the same time.

Shame drenched him suddenly and Clark began to shake.

Abruptly, Whitney pulled back. "Fuck! I'm sorry, Clark. I don't know why I did that. Really, I'm just..." He reached for Clark, who flinched. "I'm sorry. I'll go." Leaping to his feet, Whitney ran out of the room.

A moment later, Clark heard a car start and squeal off into the night.

Gasping, Clark raised his hands to his eyes. "Fuck," he whispered. "I didn't mean to. I didn't, I swear. I..."

Mind racing, Clark rose and found his shoes. He tugged them on quickly before finding his jacket and pulling that on. And then he, too, ran out into the night.

And kept on going.



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