Work Text:
Clark heard the rustle of footsteps behind him and turned away from his stack of half-chopped firewood, surprised to find three complete strangers staring at him with expressions ranging from shock to confusion to…well, the woman on the left was pretty openly checking him out. Flattering, but he was taken.
“Hello?” he offered, cool but courteous.
“Hi…” the trio replied in awkward unison.
“You are Clark Kent, right?” the hipster nerd in the middle asked. There was something superior in his manner that reminded Clark of his younger self, which is to say, it made him wanna punch the guy in the face.
“Can I help you?” he asked instead, politely, because his mother had raised him better than that.
“Uh, yeah, hopefully,” one of the two women put her hands in the pockets of her suit, laughing nervously before explaining, “Um, so, uh…this universe and an infinite number of other universes is in the process of blinking out of existence and there are seven people in all of space and time who can supposedly—”
The woman on the left, who’d been nodding along to her companion’s speech with growing agitation suddenly bursts out, “Lex Luthor’s gonna try to kill you!”
“Lois…” The first woman muttered, wincing.
The louder one, Lois—and Clark is so vividly reminded of the dark-haired, fiery-spirited Lois that he knows, it’s a little creepy—hissed back, “He is.”
“Huh,” Clark let the axe he’d been holding thwack down into its stump. “That’s funny. Pretty sure he got over trying to do that years ago.”
The guy in the middle pulls a face. “I find it difficult to a believe a Lex in any universe would give up trying to kill Superman.”
Alright. So, these folks knew his secret. Didn’t matter much now. “Well,” Clark started pulling his gloves off, tugging on the thick yellow leather, “if he’d kept trying to stick a Kryptonite blade in my back every ten minutes, it would’ve been kind of hard on our marriage.”
“Your what?” the trio of interlopers repeated in horrified harmony.
With that perfect Luthor timing, Lex strolled out of the barn, hands in his pockets and smirk firmly in place. “It’s true,” he remarked from over the other-Lois’ shoulder, making her flinch, “We try to limit the assassination attempts to special occasions. You know, anniversaries, birthdays…”
“Lex, honey, we have visitors,” Clark gestured to the newcomers, several of whom appeared to be experiencing minor cardiac events. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught your names…”
The man didn’t offer his name, instead pointing with wide, befuddled eyes at Lex, “You’re Lex Luthor? And you’re married to…?”
Lex narrowed his eyes, not quite a full glower, but getting there fast.
“Holy fuck,” Lois said, loudly.
Clark was beginning to get an inkling of what was happening, and he had to be honest—it was pretty funny so far.
“A pleasure,” Lex held out his hand, unctuous as always when threatened. Lois—and Clark was pretty sure now, this was a Lois Lane if not his Lois Lane—stared at the appendage like it had just passed a rude comment about her grandmother’s chastity. The man Clark assumed was his counterpart seemed too stunned to react. The final stranger, who Clark still didn’t have a name for, took a few awkward steps forward to shake Lex’s hand.
“Um, hi. I’m Iris. We’re here to rescue your, uh, husband? From…you. Well, not you.”
“Alternate universe?” Lex hypothesized, and Iris nodded. “So, you’re…also Clark, I’m guessing,” Lex pointed at the pseudo-Superman, who frankly seemed a little underweight to carry the title.
“He is,” Lois agreed when other-Clark didn’t, “and in our world, I’m the one who got to marry him.”
“Congrats,” Lex grinned, “we should get coffee and gossip about their…skill sets.”
Lois looked intrigued, but fortunately Iris stepped in before whatever friendship was burgeoning there could escalate. “You don’t seem too freaked out,” she noted.
“Not our first time dealing with other realities,” Clark explained, taking a step forward so he stood in line with Lex. A show of solidarity, and faith. Lex shifted his weight closer to Clark, who knew that he understood and appreciated the gesture.
“Not even our first time dealing with evil versions of ourselves,” Lex added.
“Yeah, that’s just your average Tuesday for us,” Clark agreed, “And still probably not as bad as the time evil alternate universe me came over to try and rule the world.”
“Or when my extra-evil dad also came over to try and rule the world.”
“Or when your regular-evil dad took over my body and tried to rule the world with my powers.”
“Definitely not as bad as the time you were possessed by the spirit of a dead prom queen and almost took out half the high school trying to steal the crown.”
“Hey!” Clark whacked Lex’s shoulder with his gloves, “I told you that in confidence.”
“This is confidence! It’s just you, and another you,” Lex pointed to the ersatz Clark, “and your best friend-ish,” he waved at Lois, “and…ok, well, one perfect stranger.”
“Yeah,” Iris held up her hands in a time-out gesture, “as weirdly sweet as this old-married-couple banter is, shouldn’t we be focused on the whole impending-doom-via-evil-Lex situation?”
“Yes,” not-Clark said at the same time as not-Lois tilted her head and replied, “Actually, kind of enjoying the weird banter.”
Other-Clark shot his Lois an offended glance and she rolled her eyes, “Come on, this is fascinating stuff.”
“I—” Whatever response Clark’s not-quite-double had to that was lost in a blast of rippling light and sound. Before their eyes, Lex and Clark’s strange visitors from another universe were gone.
“Huh,” Lex put his hands on his hips, “without even a goodbye.”
“Hello, old friend,” yet another unfamiliar voice spoke up from behind them. They turned around slowly to find a small, dark-suited man with mean features appraising them.
Clark narrowed his eyes. His game might be rusty, but he knew a bad guy when he saw one.
“What’d you do with those people?” he asked lightly, projecting calm even as he stepped slightly between Lex and the stranger.
“Sent them back to their flying tin can in the sky. Let’s hope they learn from this teachable moment…” He cocked his head, taking Clark in, paying zero to attention to Lex. “Now you are a super-specimen, I’ll admit. 100% American—sorry, Kryptonian—beef. And that lantern jaw, well, I’d say it’s almost surgical, but there’s not a scalpel on this Earth that could do the job.” He chuckled, apparently pleased. “Too bad I don’t have time to mount your perfect head like a trophy on my study wall.”
Gross, Clark didn’t say out loud, because he’d learned to let the villains do as much of the talking as possible. “Who are you?” he asked instead, though he was pretty sure he knew.
“Don’t you recognize me, Clark?” The stranger’s self-satisfied grin widened, “I’m Lex Luthor.”
Clark squinted, scratched his salt-and-pepper stubble, and didn’t reply. Both Lex’s realized after a moment that he was attempting to reign in laughter.
Clark’s Lex was nearly vibrating with outrage. “The beard!” he gasped, and then Clark did laugh. “It’s horrible. And why is he so short?”
“And old,” Clark added.
The newly arrived Lex didn’t particularly care for this chummy, unworried conversation that didn’t include Superman A) begging for his life or B) at least making it fun by fighting back.
“I’d say bye-bye to your chunky pal, here,” Evil-Lex simpered to a deeply affronted non-evil-Lex, “he’s about to have never existed.”
“I don’t think he is,” Lex countered, smooth as silk, “Not with me around. For richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, through evil alternate universe versions of ourselves and…you get the idea.”
The other Lex’s eyes tracked up to his double’s smooth scalp and then back down to the unflinching grey eyes.
“No…”
“Yes,” Lex confirmed.
“No!” Other Lex insisted.
“Yes!” Lex overrode him. “And frankly, I’m underwhelmed by your powers of deduction—I’d like to think that we Lex’s are a brighter bunch, the universe over.”
Clark tilted his head, noncommittal, “Eh. This might be a good thing. Your ego could always use a good puncture.”
“Ouch,” Lex laid his left hand over his heart, gold ring glinting in the afternoon sun, “that hurt. But also, fair point.”
“But—” the evil Lex sputtered, and it was clear he wasn’t a man used to sputtering, “But you’re—” he gestured with equal parts disgust and amazement at Lex.
“So handsome? Radiating with youth? The benefits of inner peace.” Lex held up slim fingers, miming a whisper behind them, “I’d suggest getting some.” He paused a minute before continuing, “With all possible double entendre intended.”
“Also, therapy,” Clark added mildly, “no entendre intended.”
Other-Lex shook his head, like a very evil poodle trying to shake water out of its fur. “Enough. This—doesn’t matter.” He pulled a metal case from his pocket and flipped it open, sickly green light spilling from its contents. “Though I am strangely sorry I’ll have to leave myself a widower…”
Clark peered mildly down at the glowing green rock. Alt-Lex began to heft it menacingly, and Clark reached forward to pluck it from his fingers.
He inspected it gingerly for a second, then handed it to his husband, who slid it into the lead lined pocket of his blazer. (You could never be too careful, he’d told his tailor).
“That’s Kryptonite!” The unwelcome Lex pointed out, rather redundantly.
Clark nodded. “Which has no effect on me ever since I gave up my powers.”
“You gave up…your powers?”
“Can’t say I’ve missed this,” Clark sighed as the other Lex clearly geared up for a rant. He shared a glance with his own Lex, who shrugged apologetically. Sorry, he seemed to say, us Luthors have a dramatic streak. And a jealous one.
“You were basically a god. You could fly!” Evil-Lex threw his hands in the air, almost upending the giant old book he’d been lugging around since the start, “You could see through walls, you had the strength of a thousand men, you were— you were—”
“Super?” A voice remarked behind the raging Lex, youthful and chipper.
Villain-Lex whirled around to find a dark haired teenager with Superman’s eyes and a Luthor’s smirk grinning down at him from where he hovered a few feet off the dusty ground.
“Don’t worry,” the kid grinned, “I’ve kept the power in the family.”
“Now, Conner,” Clark said patiently, “play nice, he’s our guest.” He matched his son’s grin, and Conner’s other father appreciated the tinge of darkness there. It was nice to know the influence went both ways.
“You…” The other Lex’s face twisted up with rage, “You sullied Luthor genes with this alien garbage?”
Lex wished he hadn’t promised Clark he’d never take another life, because seriously. “You wish you’d been sullied with this hot alien garbage,” he shot back, and admittedly, it wasn’t as effective as a bullet would have been.
“Gee, honey,” Clark deadpanned, “you have such a way with words.”
Lex waved him off, though he privately agreed that hadn’t been his wittiest bit of repartee.
“Now, you can get yourself the hell off our family’s farm, or our son can toss you off it. And into the next county.” Lex crossed his arms as his double fumed. “Your choice.”
“I think I choose—wiping all of you out of your pitiful existence,” Evil-Lex grumbled, placing a hand in the center of his giant book and beginning to concentrate.
“Actually, then…” Lex held up a hand to Kon, who dutifully paused where he was, allowing Lex to take two quick steps forward and deck his other-self hard in the face.
The man stumbled to his knees, chunky tome clutched to his chest.
“Was that satisfying?” Clark asked his husband, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Yeah,” Lex admitted, shaking out his hand.
“Can I throw him into the lake now?” Conner asked, almost hopping up and down with excitement.
The evil Lex let out a growl as he pushed his way back upright. “You took all the fun out of killing you, Superman,” he sneered at Clark. “Apparently…I’d only be hurting myself. And you…” he sent a calculating glance over at Conner, “genetically despicable, but potentially useful. No need to erase what could be rebuilt.”
Clark didn’t like the sound of that at all and started to move forward—no more Mister Nice Farmer for this guy.
“Enjoy your slice of super-pie, stupid-me…” Evil Lex whipped out a tiny remote and clicked it over his head with a flourish, allowing a blue-white whirlpool of light and matter to erupt behind him, “you’re all doomed anyway.”
He stepped into the light and vanished, leaving the Kent-Luthor family blinking in his absence.
“Well,” Clark started, then stopped.
“Definitely,” Lex agreed with the sentiment.
“That was awesome!” Conner enthused, and his parents shared a tired but proud look.
“So…it sounds like the multi-verse is in danger,” Lex pointed out, sliding a meaningful glance over to Conner, and back to Clark, who grew a frown.
“Sounds like a job for…not us,” Clark concluded.
Lex raised an eyebrow, which was the snarky-bastard version of pulling out puppy dog eyes, and it was twice as effective on Clark.
“Alright,” Clark sighed, forcing his fists to unclench, “Conner, if you want, you can go help save the multi-verse.”
“Yes!” Conner punched the air.
“If!” Clark raised a warning finger, fixing his son with an iron stare, “you promise to be home for dinner. Your father promised to cook, and if you’re not here, you know he’ll try and wiggle out of it.”
“It’s true,” Lex agreed, “I’m slippery like that.”
“Fine, dads, I promise to be back,” Conner held up a hand, “scout’s honor.”
“Grab your suit and your comms,” Lex gestured to the barn where he kept a small arsenal for his son, “and then go check out the stratosphere—maybe you can catch a ride with those alternate universe capes before they hop realities again.”
“Yes sir!” Conner whooshed off to retrieve his gear, back in seconds. “See ya soon!” he crowed, red sigil gleaming proudly on his chest, before blasting off in a cloud of dust.
Clark coughed and threw an arm around Lex’s shoulders, pulling him back towards the house, “God, I always forget how annoying that whole superhero-takeoff thing is.”
“He gets it from you,” Lex pointed out.
“I can’t deny that.”
Clark was quiet, and Lex replied to his unspoken concern, “He’ll be fine. He’s a hero. Gets that from you, too.”
“He’s smart. And a survivor,” Clark tucked Lex closer into his chest, “He gets that from you.”
Lex rested his head against Clark’s cheek, waiting for him to say whatever else was weighing on his mind. He didn’t have to wait long.
“It’s pretty weird, isn’t it?” Clark asked, “To think there are worlds out there where I don’t love you. Maybe…maybe a lot of worlds, from the sound of it.”
Lex hmmed. “Maybe. Think of it this way then: in all the worlds, and all the universes, this might be the only one where we said, ‘screw you’ to destiny.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“It means we’re special, you dope,” Lex elbowed Clark in the side and he flinched, laughing. “It means we’re not the result of some cosmic maneuvering, we’re just us. Deciding that we want to be together and making it happen.”
“We weren’t written in the stars, then?” Clark asked, cupping Lex’s cheek with one broad palm.
Lex leaned into it, eyes closing. “The stars don’t have a clue.”