Fic: What Does Not Kill You... (complete)
Title: What Does Not Kill You...
Author: josephina_x
Fandom: Smallville
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Rating: PG-13 (for being messed in the head)
Spoilers: through the entire series; future-fic
Word count: 4800+ (bah, hell if I know! I'll figure out the count later)
Summary: Ok, seriously? That saying is bullshit. There are plenty of things that won't kill a person, that will leave them weakened for life. Continuing to be alive and surviving are also two completely different things, more often than not. So is living. Lex Luthor is an excellent example of that.
Warnings: Un-beta'd. Kinda a little darkfic-ish (blah, bradygirl_12, blah :-P ). I suck at naming genres in my fics.
Disclaimer: Not mine, not-for-profit.
Comments: Yes, please! :)
Author's Note: There are not enough Labyrinth fics in the world.
Also, Nicnac wrote an excellent prequel fic for this that you should really check out! --As far as I'm concerned, her fic is a 'canon' event in this 'verse. (Thank you bunches! *huggles fic*)
And here's her LJ post to the same ("No Take Backs"), if you'd rather read it "here" than on AO3.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Lex had had enough.
He'd heard enough, seen too much, and wanted to be able to wash his hands of it all in disgust.
He ordered it done.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Clark awoke gasping for breath.
He sat bolt upright and nearly flailed out, then felt how his arms were restricted and panicked, kicking.
He struggled with the straightjacket and pulled it off over his head -- a maneuver he'd practiced repeatedly a few years ago until he'd learned it cold, when he'd had a few weeks of nightmares dealing with such an issue of capture and hadn't known any other way of banishing the fear. His success surprised the two guards in white, who backed up a step or two in confusion as Clark backed away from them himself, gaining himself some space. His eyes never leaving the guards, he quickly and efficiently wrapped the fabric up with the strips and planning to use it like a soft bludgeon in his rush for the door.
He clenched his teeth and squared his shoulders, crouched in a good, strong football stance and prepared himself to rush the guards. He didn't know how he'd ended up here, restrained, or what was wrong with his powers, but...
His eyes widened and he reared backwards, straightening reflexively and retreating a step as he caught sight of the person who moved into the doorway.
"Hello, Clark."
Clark's eyes widened. He took another step back. "No. This isn't--" real, he thought, staring at Lex's missing legs as he sat imperiously in his wheelchair.
"Lex. What did you do?" Clark asked angrily, his voice shaking. He shivered as Lex wheeled himself forward into the room. It took a concerted effort for Clark not to take another step backwards, and he shifted uneasily from side to side as he glanced at the asylum nurses, who seemed similarly uneasy, but more for Lex's safety than his own.
"I told your medical advisor to give you a drug treatment that actually worked, and lo and behold, you woke up," Lex said, smiling faintly, thought there was nothing more than a grim humor in it, if that. "Interestingly, the man can do competent work when given the right incentive. Though it remains to be seen whether your medications still need to be adjusted, or if you are actually sane," he said, cocking his head up at Clark as he stopped his wheelchair only a foot away from him.
"You won't think I am," Clark said hollowly, frowning down at Lex and bracing himself in a Blur -- no, Superman -- pose that was nearly a physical challenge. He tried to brace himself mentally, because this was going to be bad.
Lex laughed outright, a barking sound almost painful to hear. "Oh, no? You don't think so? Imagine that!" he grinned nastily.
"I'm not supposed to be here," Clark tried, knowing it was probably futile, but...
"Oh, of course not, you're perfectly sane!" Lex sneered.
"No, that's not what--" Clark shut his mouth and compressed his lips in a thin line as he realized that there was no good answer to that, so he dropped it. Even the Lex he knew could make a case against his sanity -- flying around in tights and a cape? really, Clark? weren't you a bit body-shy? -- and that wasn't really the point, anyway. "I'm not supposed to be on this planet--" Clark tried again, gritting his teeth.
"Really? I thought your alien homeworld was supposed to have exploded. Are you feeling particularly suicidal this afternoon?" Lex shot back with a dark smirk.
Clark lost his temper. "I'm on the wrong Earth!!!" he yelled.
Silence.
Then:
"...Well, that's a new one," said the man by the door.
~*~*~*~*~*~
After Clark was "re"introduced to his "real" psychologist, Dr. Cohn -- the man who had been standing by the door -- and everyone had calmed down a bit, they all resituated themselves outdoors in the 'patient recuperation area'. The yard was a lot nicer than Clark remembered it. ...Then again, it had been a few years.
Lex was in front of him to his left in his wheelchair, and the good doctor on a heavy-looking whitewashed wrought-iron chair ahead and to his right. Clark himself was sitting on a wooden bench.
"Why are you here, Lex?" Clark asked without preamble, once they were settled. It was obvious from his body language that this Lex clearly didn't want to be.
"I thought it might help the recovery process," Dr. Cohn supplied as Lex glared.
"That makes no sense," Clark pointed out. "I thought the whole problem with your Clark was that he was all obsessed with saving him," Clark pointed to Lex. "Wouldn't Lex being here jeopardize any progress at moving on and completely derail his attention? I mean mine? --The other me? ...Er, you know what I mean," Clark ended awkwardly.
"Well, that's true enough, but I wasn't talking about you," Dr. Cohn smiled, sitting back in his chair.
It took a moment to sink in.
"Son of a bitch!!!" Lex spat out, irate. He was so enraged that he wasn't thinking clearly, railing against the wheelchair wheels and trying to back away and 'storm off' in a dustcloud, except that the wheel locks were engaged and then he was fumbling at them, cursing.
Clark winced, then slipped off of his seat to kneel in front of Lex's wheelchair and quickly snapped the locks back to the open position for him.
"I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP!!!" Lex shrieked at Clark, who hurriedly pushed himself away and sat down on the ground hard, leaning back to avoid the swing of an arm as Lex shot a fist out, trying to hit him.
"Mr. Luthor, calm yourself!" Dr. Cohn said authoritatively, standing over them both.
Lex turned and bared his teeth up at the doctor, making almost audible hissing noises as he breathed heavily.
"I. Am. Fine. I have recovered. I am fine."
"Judging by your own reactions a few moments ago, clearly you are not," Dr. Cohn replied cooly.
Clark winced and waited for the next explosion... that never came. He glanced up and watched Lex continue to glare daggers at the psychologist, and the fingers he had curled around the wheel rims might be white at the knuckles, but that was it.
Clark slowly looked between the two of them, wondering what the hell was going on.
"When I heard of your recent interest in Clark's progress, and lack thereof, and then your demands for better treatment for him, it seemed as though you wanted to help in Mr. Kent's recovery process." At Lex's silence, he continued. "I had thought this an indication that you had come to terms somewhat with what had happened between you and that you were finally ready to begin moving on from your accident. Apparently I was mistaken," the doctor ended dryly.
"I have moved on," Lex said quietly, looking outwardly calm except that he was shaking slightly. And while an inexperienced eye might think that was from shame, or reaction, or even fatigue, Clark knew better and recognized it for what it really was -- barely controlled fury and hate.
But he was even more appalled at the so-called head shrink. "Lex, you lost your legs. I mean, you've got a reason to be bitter about it, it... wasn't really an accident, right? It went differently here. You... you aren't actually seeing this guy, are you?" he said, worried. From his experience, Lionel was Lionel was Lionel, regardless of the earth he was on, and Clark wouldn't put it past him to buy a doctor of Lex's, especially one that he might trust and tell things to. Important things.
Clark shivered, and opened him mouth to warn Lex further. But then he remembered something else and got completely sidetracked.
"Oh my god, he didn't actually marry my mom here, did he?" Clark squirmed in place, curling his arms around his chest, his voice hitting the higher registers in his horror.
Lex turned and stared at him, and Clark started to feel sick. "Oh, oh n--" He covered his mouth with his hands and fought a wave of nausea down.
"No, Dr. Cohn has not..." Lex started slowly.
"What? --Jesus, Lex! Not him! I mean Lionel, your dad! The last time I was here..." and then Clark winced and backtracked, "I mean, not here here, but, it was like it was here, and everything seemed... I mean, there had been the whole thing where I was in Belle Reeve and supposed to be insane and not really an alien," drat, I did it again, "and had apparently jumped out in front of your car thinking I was helping you somehow? Or something like that, and you'd gotten hurt trying to swerve and miss me -- well, him -- and you'd lost your legs there, too, and some... other things, but... that 'there', that 'place' wasn't real, that was just... This really doesn't make sense." Clark started to get a headache, and pressed his hands up against his forehead. "It wasn't real last time, but there weren't any Phantoms around this time and I'm sure I would've realized if one tried to possess me, so it has to be real this time, but... this shouldn't be real." Clark closed his eyes and tried to think of other alternatives. Magic? Hallucinations? Some sort of weird hallucinatory flashback caused by magic? He was almost positive he couldn't be asleep -- he'd woken up to this, and while slipping into fantasy or sleep could happen without his really noticing (he'd learned from that one meteor-freak encounter in Smallville) waking up was to reality, always. There had been that virtual reality thing with the VRA, but... shouldn't he remember collapsing like last time? He'd been aware of the missing time, too, and he didn't feel that now.
He was getting nowhere. He took a deep breath, then looked back up into two pairs of staring eyes and started.
"Um, what?" Clark asked, slowly dropping his hands to his lap and feeling uneasy. He continued to be the subject of two intelligent, assessing gazes, and he tried to console himself by telling himself that at least he was only under the unwavering scrutiny of two of the three types of people he would least like to be doing so.
Then he heard a loud voice nearby complaining about how 'this was no way to treat a rear admiral of the armed forces!' and closed his eyes briefly, suppressing a wince.
"...Interesting," said the doctor.
Clark grimaced. "What, that I was stupid" and flustered "enough to say any of that out loud, or that I'm even talking about any of this with you in the first place?" he said bitterly, avoiding looking at either of them.
"You don't normally tell people you're an alien?" the doctor asked.
"God, no!" Clark muttered as he ran his hands through his hair. "Usually it's the opposite. I don't want people to know; it's dangerous. ...I'm not even sure why I said anything earlier," Clark realized, feeling even less at ease. What was wrong with him?
"That's... different. Not wanting others to know," Lex said slowly. Clark looked up at him, puzzled. "You... usually seem to want to tell that to everyone you meet, somehow. One way or the other. Or at least have strongly alluded to such."
"Not me -- him." Clark corrected absently, then finally really let himself stare into Lex's eyes, worried about what he'd find. Then he had to bite his lip, sigh, and look away into a nearby flowering bush. Definitely not Lex. Not some trick or sick prank. A Lex, maybe, but...
"Why did you relax, just now?" the doctor asked him, curious and still watching him carefully.
"Huh?" Clark asked, turning to frown at him.
"You do realize you relaxed just now?"
Clark's frown deepened a bit. Sure, his shoulders had dropped a little, and he wasn't as worried about someone (namely, the Lex in front of him) suddenly jumping out and shooting him with a Kryptonite-powered laser gun, but... was it really that obvious?
He shrugged. "Well, yeah, I guess. Maybe because he isn't going to try and kill me right now?" Clark supplied, then wondered at the twin pair of horrified looks he received. "...What?"
"You think I want to kill you?" Lex said, leaning back away from Clark like he was some catching poison.
"No! Not you, I just said that you weren't--" Clark groaned in frustration. "Okay, look, this is too confusing; we need different names for this. I'll call you Lex, and my Lex 'my nemesis', and... well, I guess you can call me Kal or Kal-El, if it's easier. Or Clark -- but I'm going to call the Clark you guys know 'Clark' and myself 'Kal', ok? --I'm not trying to make out that I've got a split personality or anything, I swear," he ended hurriedly to the doctor, who actually seemed to be taking the suggestion mostly in stride.
"This other me is your... nemesis?" Lex said blankly. "And wants you dead?"
"Well, he's my nemesis and I'm his. --It wasn't my idea, it was his, and I kind of didn't have time to argue with him when he said it, and now he kind of won't let me go back on it and... well, he won't stop himself, so, yeah, he kinda is. It's a little messed up," Clark admitted. "And yes, he wants me dead, sort of."
"Sort of?"
"Well, if he actually wanted me dead, I'd probably be dead. He's pretty smart, and he can be sneaky as hell when he wants to be."
Lex continued to stare at him. It was a little disquieting.
The doctor interrupted the silence, and Clark wasn't really sure he was grateful for that. "You seem very sure that Lex is not the nemesis you know...?"
Clark felt a little confused at the nonquestion. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"You can tell the difference?"
"Can't you? Besides the obvious, I mean." Then Clark realized. "Oh, right. I guess you wouldn't know if you could tell, since you don't have meteor-infected shapeshifters and stuff here--" wait... "Hold on a minute, if the 1989 meteor shower didn't happen, why do you not have hair?!" Clark accused, turning back to Lex.
Lex stared down at him and his right eye twitched.
"...It's a legitimate question," Clark muttered, crossing his arms.
"As I understand it, Mr. Luthor had an unfortunate misunderstanding when he was younger and his mother was ill," Dr. Cohn said smoothly.
"I thought my father was poisoning my mother with the drugs she was being given to treat her cancer and swapped out her IV tube," Lex said tonelessly, as if the doctor hadn't even spoken. "While the drugs were actually poisons and I was right in a sense, they were the proper medications for her treatment at the time."
Clark didn't understand at all. "What does that have to do with..."
"I didn't think that I could get away with just removing the IV bags and disposing of them somehow. I thought I was being smart by injecting myself with their contents to get rid of it and save her."
...Clark didn't want to think about how many levels of screwed up that was. Especially since "--If you thought it was poison, why did you inject yourself with it?"
Lex grew still. Clark immediately regretted asking the question.
"She was my mother," Lex said finally.
They both startled when they heard a throat clearing sound.
"Clark --ah, or Cal, is it? Perhaps you would like to sit on the bench again, instead of the ground?"
Shit. He'd completely forgotten the head shrink was even there. What was wrong with him today?
As he stood and brushed himself off, he realized that Lex had also forgotten as well. "It's Kal, with a 'K'," he said as reseated himself on the bench.
"Kal, then. But you still haven't quite answered the original question, though, Kal," the doctor prompted.
Clark thought about that and grimaced again. "Well, leaving out obvious physical differences, I just... looked at him. If you look into somebody's eyes and pay attention, really look at them, you can just tell." He knew his Lex could; couldn't everyone? "And he just... isn't my nemesis. --I mean, you're obviously a Lex, just not mine," Clark elaborated, looking back at Lex.
"What physical differences, Kal?"
And that was just a trap. Clark looked away. "I... don't think that's really all that relevant."
"Tell me."
Clark turned to Lex.
"Tell me," Lex repeated his quiet demand.
"I don't--"
"Say it," Lex said, locking gaze.
Clark should've known better than to say anything at all about Lex's counterpart, let alone let that slip. "Lex--"
"Say it."
"No."
"...What?"
"I said no," Clark repeated. "It shouldn't matter. You both think I'm crazy anyway, so how could it make any difference one way or the other?" he said quietly.
"He can walk, can't he?"
"Lex--"
"Say it. You 'rescued' him." Lex's lips curled upward in a frightening, cruel smile. "You think you saved him." He bit off each word. "Say it."
"No, I didn't."
" 'No, you didn't' what?" Lex taunted.
"Lex," the doctor interjected.
"Be quiet," Lex replied smoothly, never looking away from Clark. "I want to hear this. 'No, you didn't' what, 'Kal'-with-a-K?"
"No, I didn't save him."
And then he had to sit there and watch the blood slowly drain out of Lex's face.
"...What?" Lex asked weakly.
"I didn't save him. I couldn't save him. He's the one person I've never been able to save." And this time he was the one to capture and hold Lex's gaze. "Sometimes. Sometimes, I think he doesn't want to be. Saved. Ever. By anyone."
Lex dropped his eyes and turned his head away. Clark felt horrid.
Then Lex got a small smile and started to laugh.
Clark felt that unease, again.
"Who are you, really?" Lex asked, his mouth laughing, but his eyes cold. "How much did my father pay you for this little act? The plastic surgery? All of it?"
Damn, but Clark hated Lionel, sometimes-and-always.
And all Clark could do was sit there, cross his arms, and listen to Lex spin theory after theory.
"...Well?" Lex demanded, panting lightly at the effort, having finally wound down, done for the moment.
"Well, what?"
"Well, what do you have to say for yourself?" Lex derided.
"What do you expect me to say, Lex? You and I both know there's no way to prove anything otherwise, for anything you've said -- and whatever else that's still unsaid that you just haven't thought up yet. They all sound pretty plausible to me, when it comes to Lionel... but you probably shouldn't have said any of it," Clark added on further reflection.
"Why the hell not?"
"Because while you know Lionel, and I know Lionel, and we both know what he's capable of," though I probably know better than you do, considering, "you probably sound completely paranoid and insane to anyone else not well-acquainted with the man," he ended, with a significant glance over at the doctor sitting off to the side.
Lex followed his gaze, then paled.
"Oh, so... so that's what you were trying to..." Lex said nervously, trying and failing to put on a defiant smile.
Clark sighed. "Not really, I keep forgetting he's there, too. You're too quiet," he complained to the doctor. "Why do you do that?"
"The better to observe you with, my dears," Dr. Cohn said with a slight smile.
"...That's totally not funny," Clark complained angrily. Lex fixed him with a similar look.
"Ah, relax, the both of you," Dr. Cohn said, putting up his hands in surrender. "This may be a joint session, but it's still considered private. I'm just here to observe and prompt when necessary. No-one will know what you've said unless one of you repeats it. --And you don't believe me--" he realized, glancing at Clark. "Why is that?" he quieried.
"Because I've seen what happens when Lionel gets done talking with Lex's doctors," Clark said grimly.
"But Kal, you've admitted yourself that you believe that this is a different Earth than your own, that Lex is not your Lex. Would it not also follow that Lionel is not the Lionel you know, as well?"
"I've been to ten different alternate realities, under various circumstances. Lionel is pretty much the same in all of them. Except the ones where he's worse." Clark pushed away the sour feeling he always got when discussing Lionel with anyone relatively sane. "Even in the realities where he's dead and died for one reason or another, it's been pretty clear how awful he was when he was around."
"So, a voice of experience, then," Dr. Cohn tilted his head and asked. "You're sure that he is the same everywhere... and everywhen, and that you have not simply been... unfortunate in your travels?"
"I'd be really pleasantly surprised if that was the case, but I'm not holding my breath," Clark said with finality. Then he glanced over at Lex. "You're being pretty silent about all this..."
"I suppose I'd never expected to hear someone talk about my father that way."
"Well, I'm not apologizing, if that's what you mean."
Lex smiled a little at him. "You're not afraid of my father."
"Hell no."
"You should be."
Clark snorted. "Well, maybe. But nobody's ever accused me of being smart before... except my nemesis, I guess. So I wouldn't hold my breath, if I were you, either."
"You aren't an invulnerable alien here," Lex pointed out, morbidly curious.
"So? I'm also not exactly invulnerable at home, what with the Kryptonite all over the place and magic and all that." He waved a hand, leaving out red-sunlight tech because... well, that would take some explanation, and he didn't want these two thinking he was trying to come up for an excuse for having no powers.
"Besides," Clark continued, "I've been practicing some, and I'm starting to get good at fighting and things even without depending on my powers. I can still defend myself if I really need to. So what if I just break boards instead of shattering them?" he ended, giving the top plank of the bench he was leaning against a good solid thump, hard enough that it'd be a strong impact, but not hurt his hand.
The board shattered into splinters.
He didn't feel it more than he felt it, and that had him standing up abruptly and turning to stare at the damage he'd done in a reflex motion, ignoring the two shocked humans behind him.
He looked down at his hand, flexed it, and realized that he'd made a grossly-mistaken assumption, based on his Phantom-experience of a similar place.
Well, there was one easy way to know for sure. He squatted abruptly, then launched himself into the air.
"Huh," Clark muttered to himself from two miles up. He floated there awhile, reassessing his situation.
...Maybe it would be better if I just disappeared for awhile, he thought. After all, there were no aliens here, or anyone really extraordinary at all. The doctor and Lex were probably the only two sane individuals to see him do that, and they'd probably easily convince themselves otherwise on their own.
The thought persisted and grew stronger as he started to fly away... for all of thirty seconds, right up until his super-hearing picked up Lex's voice.
"--bastard. You fucking bastard son-of-a-bitch. You-- get back here, you-- don't leave-- don't leave me here--" his voice was shaking. Clark slowed, glanced down across the distance and realized that Lex was openly crying.
He was floating in front of him, two inches off of the ground before he'd barely begun to question himself.
"Lex, don't--" He dropped unevenly to the ground -- still not used to floating very well this low -- squatted down, and tentatively brushed Lex's tears away. "I'm sorry, I just thought it'd be better if I-- Please don't--"
Clark only realized later that it was the apology that did it. Lex started to laugh hysterically, and Clark watched him break down right in front of him. Oh, god.
He kneeled down onto the wheelchair seat, straddling Lex's bandaged knees awkwardly, and scooped him up in a gentle hug, rocking him slightly and quietly apologizing over and over again.
~*~*~*~*~*~
"I'm really glad that you're not telling anyone," Clark said later, walking one of the paths next to Lex as he propelled himself along, wondering if Dr. Cohn would say that not letting anyone else push his wheelchair around meant Lex had control issues.
"Who? Me, or the good doctor?" Lex smiled up at him knowingly.
"Both," Clark admitted. "I mean, I know that no-one would believe either of you, probably, but it would still cause trouble."
"Well, you have my continued silence, and you know why," he smiled sphinx-like, "but what exactly did you promise Cohn?"
"Daily sessions," Clark grimaced.
"...You're kidding."
"No," Clark grumbled. "He thinks I need therapy."
"Seriously?" Lex craned his head up at him, incredulous.
"Look, I know that you think me being able to 'Warrior Angel' it up any time I want is like the greatest thing ever, but he's all like, 'how do you think it impacted you, growing up being told you must lie about yourself and restrict yourself constantly, feeling as though you could trust no-one outside of your adopted parents?' and 'how long had you felt inadequate as an alien compared to humans, and when did that change?' and 'have you ever felt betrayed by those who know that you are of alien origin?' and 'do you feel as though you have a fulfilling sex life, despite dating outside your species?' and 'when did you make the decision to live a dual life and how have you dealt with the challenges this brings?' and 'how do you balance your secret identity and your hero work, and how did you decide what falls on either side of the separation?' and 'how does that make you feel?' and -- ok, you can stop laughing anytime now," Clark ended grumpily, crossing his arms.
"Sorry, I just-- I know, it really isn't funny, but..." Lex shook his head, and rolled to a stop next to a nearby rose bush. "It just seems really incredible."
"More like an incredible mess," Clark sighed. "I'm almost starting to think he might be right."
"Well, don't let him convince you into thinking there's something wrong with you," Lex cautioned, giving him a warning look.
" 'Almost', I said. And I won't," Clark promised, plopping down on the grass, next to Lex. "I'm more worried about being found out accidentally than anything else, actually."
"Why?" Lex asked. "It's not like anyone can hurt you here."
True enough, since the only real route they'd have would be the use of red sunlight, and they'd have to experiment to get the frequencies figured out, let alone know that was a workable option first. "But that's just the point, Lex. I'm pretty much unstoppable here. I won't go around causing probems, but if I did decide to do that, there'd be literally nothing anyone could do about it."
Lex frowned down at him. "You think that people would be ruled by their fear."
"I know that enough of the military and the government officials would be, and it'd all go to hell from there. It's part of why I'm not doing hero work, you know," he added. "If people here don't end up dependent on me, they'll still become used to the idea when none really exists, and my friends will find me an bring me home eventually. The last thing everyone here needs is the spectre of an overwhelmingly powerful alien race on the horizon with no-one friendly around to defend them, especially when there isn't one. WIth my eventual disappearnce, they'll eventually end up wondering whether I was truthful, or just gone into hiding, and whether I really was the only one of if there might be others, good or bad. And with no-one able to prove otherwise, it'd become the worst sort of consipracy theory. People would be jumping at shadows. That kind of feeling of insecurity drives people insane, or worse."
"You've thought this through rather carefully," Lex mused slowly, turning the thought over in his mind.
Clark shrugged. "We had a really bad time with the VRA at home not too long ago," he said, and left it at that.
"Someday soon I'm going to get you to talk about that, starting with what that stands for," Lex threatened mildly.
"Not if Cohn beats you to it first," Clark rolled his eyes. "I really don't want to talk about it, though," he ended quietly.
"Hmmm. Well, let's just enjoy the scenery for now, all right, Kal?" Lex acquiesced with grace.
Clark sighed and relaxed finally, resting his head against the base of Lex's wheelchair and closing his eyes. He breathed in the heady scent of flowers and for the moment felt somewhat at peace.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Author: josephina_x
Fandom: Smallville
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Rating: PG-13 (for being messed in the head)
Spoilers: through the entire series; future-fic
Word count: 4800+ (bah, hell if I know! I'll figure out the count later)
Summary: Ok, seriously? That saying is bullshit. There are plenty of things that won't kill a person, that will leave them weakened for life. Continuing to be alive and surviving are also two completely different things, more often than not. So is living. Lex Luthor is an excellent example of that.
Warnings: Un-beta'd. Kinda a little darkfic-ish (blah, bradygirl_12, blah :-P ). I suck at naming genres in my fics.
Disclaimer: Not mine, not-for-profit.
Comments: Yes, please! :)
Author's Note: There are not enough Labyrinth fics in the world.
Also, Nicnac wrote an excellent prequel fic for this that you should really check out! --As far as I'm concerned, her fic is a 'canon' event in this 'verse. (Thank you bunches! *huggles fic*)
And here's her LJ post to the same ("No Take Backs"), if you'd rather read it "here" than on AO3.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Lex had had enough.
He'd heard enough, seen too much, and wanted to be able to wash his hands of it all in disgust.
He ordered it done.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Clark awoke gasping for breath.
He sat bolt upright and nearly flailed out, then felt how his arms were restricted and panicked, kicking.
He struggled with the straightjacket and pulled it off over his head -- a maneuver he'd practiced repeatedly a few years ago until he'd learned it cold, when he'd had a few weeks of nightmares dealing with such an issue of capture and hadn't known any other way of banishing the fear. His success surprised the two guards in white, who backed up a step or two in confusion as Clark backed away from them himself, gaining himself some space. His eyes never leaving the guards, he quickly and efficiently wrapped the fabric up with the strips and planning to use it like a soft bludgeon in his rush for the door.
He clenched his teeth and squared his shoulders, crouched in a good, strong football stance and prepared himself to rush the guards. He didn't know how he'd ended up here, restrained, or what was wrong with his powers, but...
His eyes widened and he reared backwards, straightening reflexively and retreating a step as he caught sight of the person who moved into the doorway.
"Hello, Clark."
Clark's eyes widened. He took another step back. "No. This isn't--" real, he thought, staring at Lex's missing legs as he sat imperiously in his wheelchair.
"Lex. What did you do?" Clark asked angrily, his voice shaking. He shivered as Lex wheeled himself forward into the room. It took a concerted effort for Clark not to take another step backwards, and he shifted uneasily from side to side as he glanced at the asylum nurses, who seemed similarly uneasy, but more for Lex's safety than his own.
"I told your medical advisor to give you a drug treatment that actually worked, and lo and behold, you woke up," Lex said, smiling faintly, thought there was nothing more than a grim humor in it, if that. "Interestingly, the man can do competent work when given the right incentive. Though it remains to be seen whether your medications still need to be adjusted, or if you are actually sane," he said, cocking his head up at Clark as he stopped his wheelchair only a foot away from him.
"You won't think I am," Clark said hollowly, frowning down at Lex and bracing himself in a Blur -- no, Superman -- pose that was nearly a physical challenge. He tried to brace himself mentally, because this was going to be bad.
Lex laughed outright, a barking sound almost painful to hear. "Oh, no? You don't think so? Imagine that!" he grinned nastily.
"I'm not supposed to be here," Clark tried, knowing it was probably futile, but...
"Oh, of course not, you're perfectly sane!" Lex sneered.
"No, that's not what--" Clark shut his mouth and compressed his lips in a thin line as he realized that there was no good answer to that, so he dropped it. Even the Lex he knew could make a case against his sanity -- flying around in tights and a cape? really, Clark? weren't you a bit body-shy? -- and that wasn't really the point, anyway. "I'm not supposed to be on this planet--" Clark tried again, gritting his teeth.
"Really? I thought your alien homeworld was supposed to have exploded. Are you feeling particularly suicidal this afternoon?" Lex shot back with a dark smirk.
Clark lost his temper. "I'm on the wrong Earth!!!" he yelled.
Silence.
Then:
"...Well, that's a new one," said the man by the door.
~*~*~*~*~*~
After Clark was "re"introduced to his "real" psychologist, Dr. Cohn -- the man who had been standing by the door -- and everyone had calmed down a bit, they all resituated themselves outdoors in the 'patient recuperation area'. The yard was a lot nicer than Clark remembered it. ...Then again, it had been a few years.
Lex was in front of him to his left in his wheelchair, and the good doctor on a heavy-looking whitewashed wrought-iron chair ahead and to his right. Clark himself was sitting on a wooden bench.
"Why are you here, Lex?" Clark asked without preamble, once they were settled. It was obvious from his body language that this Lex clearly didn't want to be.
"I thought it might help the recovery process," Dr. Cohn supplied as Lex glared.
"That makes no sense," Clark pointed out. "I thought the whole problem with your Clark was that he was all obsessed with saving him," Clark pointed to Lex. "Wouldn't Lex being here jeopardize any progress at moving on and completely derail his attention? I mean mine? --The other me? ...Er, you know what I mean," Clark ended awkwardly.
"Well, that's true enough, but I wasn't talking about you," Dr. Cohn smiled, sitting back in his chair.
It took a moment to sink in.
"Son of a bitch!!!" Lex spat out, irate. He was so enraged that he wasn't thinking clearly, railing against the wheelchair wheels and trying to back away and 'storm off' in a dustcloud, except that the wheel locks were engaged and then he was fumbling at them, cursing.
Clark winced, then slipped off of his seat to kneel in front of Lex's wheelchair and quickly snapped the locks back to the open position for him.
"I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP!!!" Lex shrieked at Clark, who hurriedly pushed himself away and sat down on the ground hard, leaning back to avoid the swing of an arm as Lex shot a fist out, trying to hit him.
"Mr. Luthor, calm yourself!" Dr. Cohn said authoritatively, standing over them both.
Lex turned and bared his teeth up at the doctor, making almost audible hissing noises as he breathed heavily.
"I. Am. Fine. I have recovered. I am fine."
"Judging by your own reactions a few moments ago, clearly you are not," Dr. Cohn replied cooly.
Clark winced and waited for the next explosion... that never came. He glanced up and watched Lex continue to glare daggers at the psychologist, and the fingers he had curled around the wheel rims might be white at the knuckles, but that was it.
Clark slowly looked between the two of them, wondering what the hell was going on.
"When I heard of your recent interest in Clark's progress, and lack thereof, and then your demands for better treatment for him, it seemed as though you wanted to help in Mr. Kent's recovery process." At Lex's silence, he continued. "I had thought this an indication that you had come to terms somewhat with what had happened between you and that you were finally ready to begin moving on from your accident. Apparently I was mistaken," the doctor ended dryly.
"I have moved on," Lex said quietly, looking outwardly calm except that he was shaking slightly. And while an inexperienced eye might think that was from shame, or reaction, or even fatigue, Clark knew better and recognized it for what it really was -- barely controlled fury and hate.
But he was even more appalled at the so-called head shrink. "Lex, you lost your legs. I mean, you've got a reason to be bitter about it, it... wasn't really an accident, right? It went differently here. You... you aren't actually seeing this guy, are you?" he said, worried. From his experience, Lionel was Lionel was Lionel, regardless of the earth he was on, and Clark wouldn't put it past him to buy a doctor of Lex's, especially one that he might trust and tell things to. Important things.
Clark shivered, and opened him mouth to warn Lex further. But then he remembered something else and got completely sidetracked.
"Oh my god, he didn't actually marry my mom here, did he?" Clark squirmed in place, curling his arms around his chest, his voice hitting the higher registers in his horror.
Lex turned and stared at him, and Clark started to feel sick. "Oh, oh n--" He covered his mouth with his hands and fought a wave of nausea down.
"No, Dr. Cohn has not..." Lex started slowly.
"What? --Jesus, Lex! Not him! I mean Lionel, your dad! The last time I was here..." and then Clark winced and backtracked, "I mean, not here here, but, it was like it was here, and everything seemed... I mean, there had been the whole thing where I was in Belle Reeve and supposed to be insane and not really an alien," drat, I did it again, "and had apparently jumped out in front of your car thinking I was helping you somehow? Or something like that, and you'd gotten hurt trying to swerve and miss me -- well, him -- and you'd lost your legs there, too, and some... other things, but... that 'there', that 'place' wasn't real, that was just... This really doesn't make sense." Clark started to get a headache, and pressed his hands up against his forehead. "It wasn't real last time, but there weren't any Phantoms around this time and I'm sure I would've realized if one tried to possess me, so it has to be real this time, but... this shouldn't be real." Clark closed his eyes and tried to think of other alternatives. Magic? Hallucinations? Some sort of weird hallucinatory flashback caused by magic? He was almost positive he couldn't be asleep -- he'd woken up to this, and while slipping into fantasy or sleep could happen without his really noticing (he'd learned from that one meteor-freak encounter in Smallville) waking up was to reality, always. There had been that virtual reality thing with the VRA, but... shouldn't he remember collapsing like last time? He'd been aware of the missing time, too, and he didn't feel that now.
He was getting nowhere. He took a deep breath, then looked back up into two pairs of staring eyes and started.
"Um, what?" Clark asked, slowly dropping his hands to his lap and feeling uneasy. He continued to be the subject of two intelligent, assessing gazes, and he tried to console himself by telling himself that at least he was only under the unwavering scrutiny of two of the three types of people he would least like to be doing so.
Then he heard a loud voice nearby complaining about how 'this was no way to treat a rear admiral of the armed forces!' and closed his eyes briefly, suppressing a wince.
"...Interesting," said the doctor.
Clark grimaced. "What, that I was stupid" and flustered "enough to say any of that out loud, or that I'm even talking about any of this with you in the first place?" he said bitterly, avoiding looking at either of them.
"You don't normally tell people you're an alien?" the doctor asked.
"God, no!" Clark muttered as he ran his hands through his hair. "Usually it's the opposite. I don't want people to know; it's dangerous. ...I'm not even sure why I said anything earlier," Clark realized, feeling even less at ease. What was wrong with him?
"That's... different. Not wanting others to know," Lex said slowly. Clark looked up at him, puzzled. "You... usually seem to want to tell that to everyone you meet, somehow. One way or the other. Or at least have strongly alluded to such."
"Not me -- him." Clark corrected absently, then finally really let himself stare into Lex's eyes, worried about what he'd find. Then he had to bite his lip, sigh, and look away into a nearby flowering bush. Definitely not Lex. Not some trick or sick prank. A Lex, maybe, but...
"Why did you relax, just now?" the doctor asked him, curious and still watching him carefully.
"Huh?" Clark asked, turning to frown at him.
"You do realize you relaxed just now?"
Clark's frown deepened a bit. Sure, his shoulders had dropped a little, and he wasn't as worried about someone (namely, the Lex in front of him) suddenly jumping out and shooting him with a Kryptonite-powered laser gun, but... was it really that obvious?
He shrugged. "Well, yeah, I guess. Maybe because he isn't going to try and kill me right now?" Clark supplied, then wondered at the twin pair of horrified looks he received. "...What?"
"You think I want to kill you?" Lex said, leaning back away from Clark like he was some catching poison.
"No! Not you, I just said that you weren't--" Clark groaned in frustration. "Okay, look, this is too confusing; we need different names for this. I'll call you Lex, and my Lex 'my nemesis', and... well, I guess you can call me Kal or Kal-El, if it's easier. Or Clark -- but I'm going to call the Clark you guys know 'Clark' and myself 'Kal', ok? --I'm not trying to make out that I've got a split personality or anything, I swear," he ended hurriedly to the doctor, who actually seemed to be taking the suggestion mostly in stride.
"This other me is your... nemesis?" Lex said blankly. "And wants you dead?"
"Well, he's my nemesis and I'm his. --It wasn't my idea, it was his, and I kind of didn't have time to argue with him when he said it, and now he kind of won't let me go back on it and... well, he won't stop himself, so, yeah, he kinda is. It's a little messed up," Clark admitted. "And yes, he wants me dead, sort of."
"Sort of?"
"Well, if he actually wanted me dead, I'd probably be dead. He's pretty smart, and he can be sneaky as hell when he wants to be."
Lex continued to stare at him. It was a little disquieting.
The doctor interrupted the silence, and Clark wasn't really sure he was grateful for that. "You seem very sure that Lex is not the nemesis you know...?"
Clark felt a little confused at the nonquestion. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"You can tell the difference?"
"Can't you? Besides the obvious, I mean." Then Clark realized. "Oh, right. I guess you wouldn't know if you could tell, since you don't have meteor-infected shapeshifters and stuff here--" wait... "Hold on a minute, if the 1989 meteor shower didn't happen, why do you not have hair?!" Clark accused, turning back to Lex.
Lex stared down at him and his right eye twitched.
"...It's a legitimate question," Clark muttered, crossing his arms.
"As I understand it, Mr. Luthor had an unfortunate misunderstanding when he was younger and his mother was ill," Dr. Cohn said smoothly.
"I thought my father was poisoning my mother with the drugs she was being given to treat her cancer and swapped out her IV tube," Lex said tonelessly, as if the doctor hadn't even spoken. "While the drugs were actually poisons and I was right in a sense, they were the proper medications for her treatment at the time."
Clark didn't understand at all. "What does that have to do with..."
"I didn't think that I could get away with just removing the IV bags and disposing of them somehow. I thought I was being smart by injecting myself with their contents to get rid of it and save her."
...Clark didn't want to think about how many levels of screwed up that was. Especially since "--If you thought it was poison, why did you inject yourself with it?"
Lex grew still. Clark immediately regretted asking the question.
"She was my mother," Lex said finally.
They both startled when they heard a throat clearing sound.
"Clark --ah, or Cal, is it? Perhaps you would like to sit on the bench again, instead of the ground?"
Shit. He'd completely forgotten the head shrink was even there. What was wrong with him today?
As he stood and brushed himself off, he realized that Lex had also forgotten as well. "It's Kal, with a 'K'," he said as reseated himself on the bench.
"Kal, then. But you still haven't quite answered the original question, though, Kal," the doctor prompted.
Clark thought about that and grimaced again. "Well, leaving out obvious physical differences, I just... looked at him. If you look into somebody's eyes and pay attention, really look at them, you can just tell." He knew his Lex could; couldn't everyone? "And he just... isn't my nemesis. --I mean, you're obviously a Lex, just not mine," Clark elaborated, looking back at Lex.
"What physical differences, Kal?"
And that was just a trap. Clark looked away. "I... don't think that's really all that relevant."
"Tell me."
Clark turned to Lex.
"Tell me," Lex repeated his quiet demand.
"I don't--"
"Say it," Lex said, locking gaze.
Clark should've known better than to say anything at all about Lex's counterpart, let alone let that slip. "Lex--"
"Say it."
"No."
"...What?"
"I said no," Clark repeated. "It shouldn't matter. You both think I'm crazy anyway, so how could it make any difference one way or the other?" he said quietly.
"He can walk, can't he?"
"Lex--"
"Say it. You 'rescued' him." Lex's lips curled upward in a frightening, cruel smile. "You think you saved him." He bit off each word. "Say it."
"No, I didn't."
" 'No, you didn't' what?" Lex taunted.
"Lex," the doctor interjected.
"Be quiet," Lex replied smoothly, never looking away from Clark. "I want to hear this. 'No, you didn't' what, 'Kal'-with-a-K?"
"No, I didn't save him."
And then he had to sit there and watch the blood slowly drain out of Lex's face.
"...What?" Lex asked weakly.
"I didn't save him. I couldn't save him. He's the one person I've never been able to save." And this time he was the one to capture and hold Lex's gaze. "Sometimes. Sometimes, I think he doesn't want to be. Saved. Ever. By anyone."
Lex dropped his eyes and turned his head away. Clark felt horrid.
Then Lex got a small smile and started to laugh.
Clark felt that unease, again.
"Who are you, really?" Lex asked, his mouth laughing, but his eyes cold. "How much did my father pay you for this little act? The plastic surgery? All of it?"
Damn, but Clark hated Lionel, sometimes-and-always.
And all Clark could do was sit there, cross his arms, and listen to Lex spin theory after theory.
"...Well?" Lex demanded, panting lightly at the effort, having finally wound down, done for the moment.
"Well, what?"
"Well, what do you have to say for yourself?" Lex derided.
"What do you expect me to say, Lex? You and I both know there's no way to prove anything otherwise, for anything you've said -- and whatever else that's still unsaid that you just haven't thought up yet. They all sound pretty plausible to me, when it comes to Lionel... but you probably shouldn't have said any of it," Clark added on further reflection.
"Why the hell not?"
"Because while you know Lionel, and I know Lionel, and we both know what he's capable of," though I probably know better than you do, considering, "you probably sound completely paranoid and insane to anyone else not well-acquainted with the man," he ended, with a significant glance over at the doctor sitting off to the side.
Lex followed his gaze, then paled.
"Oh, so... so that's what you were trying to..." Lex said nervously, trying and failing to put on a defiant smile.
Clark sighed. "Not really, I keep forgetting he's there, too. You're too quiet," he complained to the doctor. "Why do you do that?"
"The better to observe you with, my dears," Dr. Cohn said with a slight smile.
"...That's totally not funny," Clark complained angrily. Lex fixed him with a similar look.
"Ah, relax, the both of you," Dr. Cohn said, putting up his hands in surrender. "This may be a joint session, but it's still considered private. I'm just here to observe and prompt when necessary. No-one will know what you've said unless one of you repeats it. --And you don't believe me--" he realized, glancing at Clark. "Why is that?" he quieried.
"Because I've seen what happens when Lionel gets done talking with Lex's doctors," Clark said grimly.
"But Kal, you've admitted yourself that you believe that this is a different Earth than your own, that Lex is not your Lex. Would it not also follow that Lionel is not the Lionel you know, as well?"
"I've been to ten different alternate realities, under various circumstances. Lionel is pretty much the same in all of them. Except the ones where he's worse." Clark pushed away the sour feeling he always got when discussing Lionel with anyone relatively sane. "Even in the realities where he's dead and died for one reason or another, it's been pretty clear how awful he was when he was around."
"So, a voice of experience, then," Dr. Cohn tilted his head and asked. "You're sure that he is the same everywhere... and everywhen, and that you have not simply been... unfortunate in your travels?"
"I'd be really pleasantly surprised if that was the case, but I'm not holding my breath," Clark said with finality. Then he glanced over at Lex. "You're being pretty silent about all this..."
"I suppose I'd never expected to hear someone talk about my father that way."
"Well, I'm not apologizing, if that's what you mean."
Lex smiled a little at him. "You're not afraid of my father."
"Hell no."
"You should be."
Clark snorted. "Well, maybe. But nobody's ever accused me of being smart before... except my nemesis, I guess. So I wouldn't hold my breath, if I were you, either."
"You aren't an invulnerable alien here," Lex pointed out, morbidly curious.
"So? I'm also not exactly invulnerable at home, what with the Kryptonite all over the place and magic and all that." He waved a hand, leaving out red-sunlight tech because... well, that would take some explanation, and he didn't want these two thinking he was trying to come up for an excuse for having no powers.
"Besides," Clark continued, "I've been practicing some, and I'm starting to get good at fighting and things even without depending on my powers. I can still defend myself if I really need to. So what if I just break boards instead of shattering them?" he ended, giving the top plank of the bench he was leaning against a good solid thump, hard enough that it'd be a strong impact, but not hurt his hand.
The board shattered into splinters.
He didn't feel it more than he felt it, and that had him standing up abruptly and turning to stare at the damage he'd done in a reflex motion, ignoring the two shocked humans behind him.
He looked down at his hand, flexed it, and realized that he'd made a grossly-mistaken assumption, based on his Phantom-experience of a similar place.
Well, there was one easy way to know for sure. He squatted abruptly, then launched himself into the air.
"Huh," Clark muttered to himself from two miles up. He floated there awhile, reassessing his situation.
...Maybe it would be better if I just disappeared for awhile, he thought. After all, there were no aliens here, or anyone really extraordinary at all. The doctor and Lex were probably the only two sane individuals to see him do that, and they'd probably easily convince themselves otherwise on their own.
The thought persisted and grew stronger as he started to fly away... for all of thirty seconds, right up until his super-hearing picked up Lex's voice.
"--bastard. You fucking bastard son-of-a-bitch. You-- get back here, you-- don't leave-- don't leave me here--" his voice was shaking. Clark slowed, glanced down across the distance and realized that Lex was openly crying.
He was floating in front of him, two inches off of the ground before he'd barely begun to question himself.
"Lex, don't--" He dropped unevenly to the ground -- still not used to floating very well this low -- squatted down, and tentatively brushed Lex's tears away. "I'm sorry, I just thought it'd be better if I-- Please don't--"
Clark only realized later that it was the apology that did it. Lex started to laugh hysterically, and Clark watched him break down right in front of him. Oh, god.
He kneeled down onto the wheelchair seat, straddling Lex's bandaged knees awkwardly, and scooped him up in a gentle hug, rocking him slightly and quietly apologizing over and over again.
~*~*~*~*~*~
"I'm really glad that you're not telling anyone," Clark said later, walking one of the paths next to Lex as he propelled himself along, wondering if Dr. Cohn would say that not letting anyone else push his wheelchair around meant Lex had control issues.
"Who? Me, or the good doctor?" Lex smiled up at him knowingly.
"Both," Clark admitted. "I mean, I know that no-one would believe either of you, probably, but it would still cause trouble."
"Well, you have my continued silence, and you know why," he smiled sphinx-like, "but what exactly did you promise Cohn?"
"Daily sessions," Clark grimaced.
"...You're kidding."
"No," Clark grumbled. "He thinks I need therapy."
"Seriously?" Lex craned his head up at him, incredulous.
"Look, I know that you think me being able to 'Warrior Angel' it up any time I want is like the greatest thing ever, but he's all like, 'how do you think it impacted you, growing up being told you must lie about yourself and restrict yourself constantly, feeling as though you could trust no-one outside of your adopted parents?' and 'how long had you felt inadequate as an alien compared to humans, and when did that change?' and 'have you ever felt betrayed by those who know that you are of alien origin?' and 'do you feel as though you have a fulfilling sex life, despite dating outside your species?' and 'when did you make the decision to live a dual life and how have you dealt with the challenges this brings?' and 'how do you balance your secret identity and your hero work, and how did you decide what falls on either side of the separation?' and 'how does that make you feel?' and -- ok, you can stop laughing anytime now," Clark ended grumpily, crossing his arms.
"Sorry, I just-- I know, it really isn't funny, but..." Lex shook his head, and rolled to a stop next to a nearby rose bush. "It just seems really incredible."
"More like an incredible mess," Clark sighed. "I'm almost starting to think he might be right."
"Well, don't let him convince you into thinking there's something wrong with you," Lex cautioned, giving him a warning look.
" 'Almost', I said. And I won't," Clark promised, plopping down on the grass, next to Lex. "I'm more worried about being found out accidentally than anything else, actually."
"Why?" Lex asked. "It's not like anyone can hurt you here."
True enough, since the only real route they'd have would be the use of red sunlight, and they'd have to experiment to get the frequencies figured out, let alone know that was a workable option first. "But that's just the point, Lex. I'm pretty much unstoppable here. I won't go around causing probems, but if I did decide to do that, there'd be literally nothing anyone could do about it."
Lex frowned down at him. "You think that people would be ruled by their fear."
"I know that enough of the military and the government officials would be, and it'd all go to hell from there. It's part of why I'm not doing hero work, you know," he added. "If people here don't end up dependent on me, they'll still become used to the idea when none really exists, and my friends will find me an bring me home eventually. The last thing everyone here needs is the spectre of an overwhelmingly powerful alien race on the horizon with no-one friendly around to defend them, especially when there isn't one. WIth my eventual disappearnce, they'll eventually end up wondering whether I was truthful, or just gone into hiding, and whether I really was the only one of if there might be others, good or bad. And with no-one able to prove otherwise, it'd become the worst sort of consipracy theory. People would be jumping at shadows. That kind of feeling of insecurity drives people insane, or worse."
"You've thought this through rather carefully," Lex mused slowly, turning the thought over in his mind.
Clark shrugged. "We had a really bad time with the VRA at home not too long ago," he said, and left it at that.
"Someday soon I'm going to get you to talk about that, starting with what that stands for," Lex threatened mildly.
"Not if Cohn beats you to it first," Clark rolled his eyes. "I really don't want to talk about it, though," he ended quietly.
"Hmmm. Well, let's just enjoy the scenery for now, all right, Kal?" Lex acquiesced with grace.
Clark sighed and relaxed finally, resting his head against the base of Lex's wheelchair and closing his eyes. He breathed in the heady scent of flowers and for the moment felt somewhat at peace.
~*~*~*~*~*~