May Day

Clark walked into the Daily Planet and was welcomed with a "Happy Cinco de Mayo" from his co-workers. The cubicles were all brightly decorated and one person even had a piñata hanging from the ceiling. Clark responded appropriately, but avoided being drawn into any conversations as he made his way to his desk. When he got there, he sat down and logged onto the computer, frowning at the screen.

There was something wrong. There hadn't been anything wrong before he'd walked in -- it had been a quiet night of patrolling, an easy morning, and a nice bus-ride in. Everything seemed to be just fine. Yet Clark was now filled with a sense of unease that he couldn't shake.

A meeting reminder popped up on his calendar, and Clark clicked it open. Then he froze, staring at the calendar. Cinco de Mayo. May 5. It was the fifth of May. Which meant it was four days past May 1; the first of May.

Not even grabbing his coat, Clark blindly headed out of the office, going back home. He couldn't even say if he used any superpowers getting there, he was so focused.

Unlocking his apartment, Clark headed straight to the kitchen. When he got there, he stared at the countertop. There were his dishes, piled messily on the side. Remnants of some dinners. A towel tossed casually there instead of being hung up. And nothing else. A perfectly normal kitchen for most of the year. But it was four days past May first, and there should have been something else and there wasn't.

Clark fought the pounding of his heart. "I should be happy they're not there. Shouldn't I?" Except he wasn't. There was something missing, and even though he'd never asked for them, their absence was keenly felt.

Flowers. Every year, every single year for fifteen years, flowers had always appeared on his countertop on May first. Clark didn't put them there, though he knew darn well who did. Yet they weren't there this year. What could have caused Lex to break fifteen years of tradition?

Smallville, Fifteen Years ago, mid-April
Clark was walking with Pete towards the Beanery, when he saw Lex's car parked outside of Nell's flower shop. A wide grin split Clark's face, and he made an excuse to Pete, who grimaced but went on without him while Clark detoured to the flower shop. Lex had been in Metropolis last weekend, trying to deal with his father. It was only a weekend... but Clark had been used to seeing Lex pretty much every weekend, with one excuse or another. He missed his friend.

Walking into the flower shop, Clark could hear Lex and Nell talking, and he made towards the back room where they were in the midst of flowers and baskets and papers and plans. "Hi Lex. Hi Ms. Potter." Nell only got the briefest of glances, otherwise his eyes were all for Lex. His friend didn't seem to be the worse for his weekend away. Instead, his eyes were sparkling with mischief and delight as he grinned back at Clark, the open happy look that was reserved for his friend.

"Hi Clark, pull up a chair," Lex offered, his own eyes tracking over Clark as if to check for damages, to make sure he'd survived a weekend without Lex.

"What are you up to?" Instead of grabbing another chair, Clark hovered next to Lex, taking a grip on the chair back and leaning forward to look at all the baskets on the table.

Lex settled back, so that his shoulder was unobtrusively touching Clark's hand. Clark felt a thrill go though him at the touch and almost missed Lex's words.

"So with the work going on to convert the theater and this shop area into the new coffee-house/movie theater, we need to do something with all the flower stock. I thought it would be a good idea to make May baskets."

"Not to mention," Nell put in with good humor, "giving you a chance to play Lord of the Manor."

Lex laughed, "Well... but you won't let me do anything else for Beltane!"

Nell snorted with the ease of someone who had known Lex since he was in short pants, and then explained to a confused Clark, "Lex *wanted* to set up a couple of bonfires and arrange for people to each bring a selected cow or bull to drive through them."

"Uh..." Clark's mind boggled at the chaos that would ensue.

"And *then* he wanted to set up a fair and choose a Green Man and May Queen of Smallville."

"But we already have the Corn King and Queen," Clark said, thinking of the fair scheduled to be held in three weeks.

"Exactly," Nell said with a satisfied smirk at Lex

Lex twisted around to look at Clark, "Hey, you're supposed to be on MY side..."

There was a moment when Clark couldn't quite breathe, meeting those laughing blue eyes. Luckily, Nell was still talking.

"So *then* he wanted to put up a May Pole..."

"Which you haven't said 'no' to," Lex interjected, his lips twitching.

"Well, that one might actually be fun," Nell admitted. "As long as you don't include the *other* things the ceremony is known for."

"I would think Smallville would be the perfect place," Lex teased.

Nell gave him a long-suffering look.

"Um, other things?" Clark interjected, not quite willing to look stupid, but it was better than letting this dialog keep going while he was stuck on the outside.

"If you have to ask, I'm not sure if you should know." Lex again glanced at him, his eyes still laughing, but coupled with a retreat that Clark was by now well familiar with. Lex running into the barriers of small-town living versus his own corrupted youth; Lex trying to preserve Clark's supposed innocence. Clark knew that compared to his friend, Clark really was innocent, but he wished Lex wouldn't try so hard not to do the corrupting. It wasn't actually possible to *say* that, though, both because it would be way too embarrassing, and also because Clark didn't want to be the one stopping Lex from his attempts to try and be good. If Clark stopped him on this, what would fall through the cracks later?

Nell snorted, "Like that ever stopped you, Lex." She turned to Clark, "The neo-pagans of the day love to dominate Beltane with the fertility rites. Which the May King and Queen would carry out. Wedding rings can be set aside during that time. Lovers would experiment. No weddings were supposed to take place---"

Clark raised his hands over his ears in protest, his face burning. No so much over the subject, but that it was *Nell* explaining it. If it had been Lex, Clark would have been all ears.

Lex stood up, laughing and gently pulling Clark's hands down. "Don't worry, it isn't all fertility rites. There's also the May waters, washing in fresh May dew for luck and health; the Beltane Fires, to purify the livestock; the May Pole, to dance around at night---"

"All of which *are* fertility rituals as well," Nell put in, laughing herself. "Don't try and clean it up just for Smallville, Lex."

Clark looked between the two of them, feeling a little left out. But Lex hadn't actually let go of Clark's hands yet, and Clark was willing to be the dunce for a bit more attention. "I thought May Day was about giving flowers to girls."

Lex let go of Clark's hands and waved at the table, "Which brings us back to the May Baskets."

"May Baskets were given or placed secretly on doorsteps to friends, shut-ins, or lovers," Nell explained. "Lex is buying out the last of our flower stock to make baskets for all the hospitals and senior centers here in Smallville, and some of the retired folks who just won't leave their homes anymore. We're trying to make sure we have enough and aren't missing anybody."

"And you can't tell anybody that it's me," Lex said. "The whole 'secretly' part. That's why we're doing the May Pole as well -- that can be public."

Clark shook his head at his friend; like anybody in Smallville *wouldn't* know that it was Lex. Who else would make such a grand gesture, and who else had the money? But Clark agreed. No need to make it completely obvious. He sat down and watched, contributing here and there to their plans, content just to be in the presence of his friend.

... ... ...

When May 1st rolled around, Clark enjoyed the day at school listening to everybody talk about the baskets that relatives in the hospital had gotten, and the light-hearted speculations and teasing on lovers. Everybody did know, of course, that it was Lex, but other than a few bullies who would grumble about anything, most people respected the attempt at secrecy and applauded him for it.

There was also a resurgence in romantic gift-giving. There had always been some -- Beltane as May Day was popular with the girls. But the sheer amount of it currently made Clark's mind hurt. Obviously, with the May Pole going up, the romance value of May Day had also gone up. And Clark was spending too much time with Lex if he was thinking of it in those terms. He watched a bit wistfully as Lana's locker was surrounded with a pile of baskets and bouquets from all her admirers, while she carried around the one that Whitney had given her. Clark had thought about getting her one, but he knew it would be hopeless.

Despite the non-Lana romance, Clark got home in a good mood. He wished it wasn't a weekday, so he could head out to the castle and tell Lex how well received his gifts had been. But Clark had chores to do, and a visit to the castle would have to wait for the weekend.

Clark headed up to the loft to drop his backpack off and change to work boots. When he got to the top, he stood stock still in amazement at the huge bouquet of flowers on his desk.

After a moment of stunned stillness, Clark approached and found a note almost buried under the blossoms.

'These are her favorites -- I checked. Go for it.'

No signature, but Clark was pretty familiar with Lex's handwriting. He sat down at his desk and put his head in his hands. Lex just didn't know how to be subtle. Though remembering the giant delivery of tulips for Victoria a few months back, maybe this *was* Lex trying to be subtle for Clark. Clark thought about himself showing up at Lana's door tonight, giving her this display. It would make an impact, all right. He wasn't sure it was the one he wanted to make. And... Clark reached out and touched the flowers, gently stroking the soft petals. He wondered if Lex's skin would feel this soft if he dared touch it.

Lex was always trying to give Clark things that Lex thought would make Clark happy -- such as Lana. But what Lex didn't seem to realize was that *Lex* made Clark happy. It was a realization that had taken Clark a long time to figure out but he knew it now.

With a nod, Clark crumpled up the note and threw it away. Then he arranged the flowers on his desk in a slightly less vulgar display, and changed his boots to go do his chores. Clark was keeping the flowers for himself. Lana may have gotten Lex's box, but Clark wouldn't do that again. He would talk to Lex on the weekend and make things clear. If Lex wanted to give him something... it would be for himself.

... ... ...

Fifteen years later, May 6th

Clark sat at his kitchen table and sipped a glass of orange juice, staring blankly at his kitchen counter. That weekend, fifteen years ago, had gotten interrupted by Lionel coming to Smallville and announcing the closure of the plant. There had been no time in Lex's life for anything else after that but the frantic scramble to try and arrange the buy-out. And then there had been the hurricane. And then Desiree... and then Helen... and that whole big thing with Lex's father. Once Lex's father had stepped in, everything had changed. Lex had tried so hard for a while to juggle his friendships and his morality against the life lessons that Lionel wanted to teach him, but Lionel was relentless, and the more Lex struggled, the more Lionel brought the pressure to bear. Not just on Lex, but on all those that Lex cared about.

Looking back on it from these years of perspective, Clark could see how Lex had been trapped between all the expectations. And Clark and his family really hadn't helped by their disapproval and withdrawal whenever Lex did something Luthorian. Clark was surprised, looking back, that Lex had kept trying as long as he did.

One of the ways in which he tried was that Lex kept sending Clark flowers. Every year, every May 1, since that first one, there would be flowers. Never ever while Clark was around. But he'd come home, and they would be there. That second year, it was a simple yellow rose with a note, 'I'm sorry.' Though Lex had never said what he was sorry for. Clark had kept it all the same.

Things had just kept getting worse. Lionel was determined to have his son in his mold. Lex fought against it, but even in doing that, Lex fulfilled Lionel's expectations. When Lionel got too close to Clark and his friends, Lex severed their friendship, moved back to Metropolis, and the two Luthors battled it out without ever coming back to Smallville. Now, years later, Clark could finally see what Lex had done, and why -- an attempt at protecting them. At the time, all Clark had known was hurt and betrayal. Made worse by the set of forget-me-nots he'd received that year. To this day, Clark could remember the confused pain that he felt when he'd gone up to the loft and found them. No sign of Lex -- he hadn't seen Lex at that point for months. But there were the flowers, and he knew darn well who had left them.

When Clark had moved to Metropolis himself, and started playing hero, his confrontations with the Luthors only got worse. Clark shuddered to remember some of them. Lionel was the worst, but Lex wasn't that far behind with some of his schemes and plots. Clark truly hated Lex at points during those years. And yet, through it all, Clark kept getting flowers, every May 1. They would just show up on his kitchen counter when he was at school and then at work. Clark kept them all, though he couldn't even explain to himself why he did. Just looking at them made him angry and sad. But he never threw them away.

In the last couple of years, things had finally started getting better. After Lionel died and Lex inherited all of the LuthorCorp shares, merging it in with LexCorp, Lex had backed off the extremes that he and Lionel had engaged in while they were at war. Lex had even pulled Lucas out of wherever he'd been and the two brothers now worked together. Changing the company practices, shifting the focus more into legitimate research and toughening up safety regulations.

Clark had thought that there might even be a chance for them with the changes. That they could sit down and have a reasonable conversation; not a reporter interview nor a Superman confrontation. Lex hadn't made any overtures, though, and Clark hadn't either. They had kept their distances, to the routines established over years.

And now there was this.

Glumly, Clark got up and rinsed his glass off in the sink. And he looked at the empty kitchen counter-top. Not totally empty -- his usual mess of dishes and take-out containers and paper towels was scattered there. But there wasn't something there should have been, and even though Clark hadn't known it was missing earlier... he missed it now. He'd gotten no flowers this year. May 1 had come and gone, and there was nothing to show for it.

After Clark had finally realized it yesterday, he'd spent the rest of the day looking for the flowers. He was sure they were there. Maybe just not in his kitchen. Clark had searched his apartment. He'd flown back to Smallville and searched the loft. He surprised his parents by asking if there were any deliveries and made them speculate about possibilities, while they never once touched on the right one. Clark even flew out to the Fortress in the Artic. But the cold bitter snow was relentless, and there was nothing living anywhere within it.

"Something's wrong," Clark said out loud to the empty apartment.

Going into the family room, Clark opened up his computer and started searching for news on Lex Luthor. Just because he hadn't heard anything at the Planet didn't mean nothing happened. Except, apparently, nothing had. Clark couldn't find anything out of the ordinary at all.

Walking back into the kitchen, Clark stared at the absent flowers. There was a spot on his counter where they sat most every year. Every year, they appeared, and every year, Clark left them. It was always a different flower or set of flowers. Sometimes just one, sometimes many. Last year, it had been a banquet of simple garden flowers. Sweet peas, irises, ranunculi, pansies... all flowers and scents that had reminded Clark of home. He'd left them there on the counter, changing their water when needed, clipping the steams, and reluctantly throwing them out when they died.

When they had been their most angry at each other, six years ago, the flowers had been a posy of thistles. Clark had to laugh when he'd seen them. Madder than hell at Lex, and Lex still managed to turn it into something they could both share.

With a sigh, Clark left the kitchen and went to his bedroom, changing into his Superman suit at normal speed. He'd thought about calling Lex as himself, but Clark just wasn't sure if he'd get through the operators, and he didn't have Lex's private number anymore. So... a visit from Superman, and he'd find out what was wrong. Because something surely was.

... ... ...

Superman flew onto the balcony off Lex's main office, and casually slid open the door. Lex never locked his balcony door. Unlike his father, who had always made Superman break it when he came in.

Lex looked up from his desk, a startled look passing quickly over his face before he changed his expression to a sneer and leaned back casually. "Superman. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Clark blinked. Okay, his and Lex's relations weren't really all that good, but the vibes he was getting from the other man were downright *hostile*. It reminded him, unpleasantly, of his encounters with Lionel. He frowned, "What are you up to?"

"The corporation stocks rose another ten points, the medical research grant for the skin graft trials has come through, the USDA approved our aspirin-substitute product, ---"

"Knock it off, Lex," Clark sighed, "you know what I meant."

Lex blinked, several times, a weird look passing over his face. Superman couldn't figure out what it was before it too was gone.

"No, Superman, I don't know what you mean." Lex changed positions, sitting more upright and moving the chair closer to the desk. "I haven't done anything for almost two years that would warrant a direct visit, and my company is improving to your standards daily, as I'm sure you're well aware." Lex was back to sneering, and the last sentence was in a mocking, biting voice that had undertones of disapproval.

Clark was seriously baffled by now. What on earth was going on? He scanned Lex with x-ray vision to check for any recent concussions. Clark sucked in his breath as the x-ray revealed a skeleton that had years of fracture lines. Broken arms, broken ribs, broken collarbone... these bones had been through hell and had healed but with scars. Completely unlike Lex's smooth-lined skeleton where even the worst breaks had healed clean. And yet it WAS Lex's skeleton. Clark would swear to that. He knew every line in Lex's body, every joint, every vertebrae, every knob. He thought Lex's hands were particularly elegant in both outer skin and inner bones. But this Lex's hands had been broken. The fingers were noticeably thicker as a result, from the healing and from the hard physical labor they'd been through.

Superman looked up, switching his vision off X-ray and back to normal. "Who are you?" he hissed, "Where are you from?" For this person was not his Lex. He was sure of that now. It was *a* Lex Luthor, probably -- there were too many similarities. But not *his* Lex Luthor. "What have you done with Lex?"

The Lex Luthor who sat there casually shifted in his chair. "Now how did you come to that conclusion?" he purred. The words masked, but didn't quite cover, the sound of one of the desk drawers opening.

Almost rolling his eyes, Superman waited for it. It had been awhile since a Luthor had tried a deathray on him. He'd bet this version didn't have any better ones. "Answer my question! Where is Lex?"

The other man brought his hand up from the desk to reveal a ring with kryptonite as the central gemstone. "I think you'll be the one answering questions, Superman," he mocked, than laughed evilly.

Baffled, Clark waited for a heart-beat, and then decided to play along and fell to the floor in pain, writhing on the ground. "Bastard," he groaned.

Lex walked around the table and kicked Superman in the ribs. "Two universes and you're just as stupid in this one as you are in the other." He kicked again. "I guess my alternate here must be as dumb as you and as much as a milksop as he seemed to be, for you to notice that quickly. I should have tried a lower intelligence level to mimic."

The hatred was out full-force in his voice now, along with a heavy dose of megalomania and some insanity. Clark shivered to hear it. There was nothing of temperance, of restraint, of gentle humor there. Only the pride and rage.

Luthor shook his head, repeating, "Milksop. The fool had a wonderful set of labs and research and programs doing interesting things, and he's been dismantling them and putting *restrictions* around the others!" The Lex Luthor who was not Lex Luthor continued to ramble on, describing what he would do with this world and LuthorCorp resources.

At a pause, Clark broke in. "What," Clark said again, barely remembering to keep his voice trembling, "have you done with Lex?"

"The world only needs one Lex Luthor," the other replied scornfully, turning away and walking towards the desk again, "And that one the best."

Something broke inside Clark. Something that had always been there, warm and comforting, something uniquely his and precious. It broke; the pieces falling through his soul and cutting deep. Superman stood up and decked the other, barely restraining his punch so he didn't kill him. Though he did add to the fractures on the skeleton. When the other fell, Superman grabbed a roll of duct-tape from the bottom drawer of Lex's desk and taped his wrists and ankles. Then he searched the office.

Clark's gaze finally settled on a weird doohickey on the side table. It looked vaguely like one of those 5-ball pendulums, only with a lot more gears and levers and electronics in it. And it was emitting a very low-pitched hum that he could only hear by concentrating. Clark puzzled over it for a moment, then shrugged and plucked at the end of the pendulum.

The hum increased and become concrete. Clark stepped quickly back as a fuzzy doorway appeared between him and it. On the other side of the fuzz, there he stood.

"Hah!" Superman exclaimed, looking beyond Clark to the ground where the other was starting to stir. "I knew you wouldn't have any problems with Luthor. I was worried about your universe having *two* of them, but two of them are no match for one Superman." The counter-part grinned at him, friendly but with some relief as well. "A moment, and I'll have him off your hands."

Superman stepped through the fuzzy doorway and promptly collapsed, a wide-eyed expression of pain and surprised betrayal crossing his face. "Kryptonite..." he gasped out.

For a long moment, Clark just looked at him in sheer bafflement. He glanced between his alternate self and the alternate Lex Luthor, who was waking and struggling to sit up. "You have GOT to be kidding me."

Yet there was no denying that his counterpart was currently on the floor completely disabled from pain. Clark shook his head and went to the Luthor, yanking him up and dumping him on a chair. He pulled at the ring the other was wearing, tugging at it, but the other closed his fist tightly around it.

The veins on Clark's arm glowed green and hurt like hell, but Clark was used to that. He growled at the other, "You are seriously trying my patience. Either give me the ring now, or I break your finger to get it."

The Luthor grinned macabrely at him, "Checkmate. You won't do that."

With a shrug, Clark yanked at the ring, forcing the finger straight as he pulled it off. "Your choice."

The scream that Luthor gave was overlaid by a protest from the weak Superman even as he lay writhing.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Clark muttered as he walked to Lex's desk and dumped the ring into the middle drawer that was lead lined. He slammed it shut and then turned to Superman. "That *little* amount of rock takes you down for the count?"

Superman was standing up, glowering at him, "No hero tortures a prisoner!"

Clark stared at him. "That wasn't torture -- that was getting the damn ring off his finger. What, you would have just let him have it?"

That gave the Superman pause. "A little heat vision and he would have opened his hand..."

Shaking his head, Clark cut that one off, "I may not have been down for the count, but powers aren't reliable -- it could have been a warm bath or lasered his hand off. Forcing his hand open was the safer option."

The other Superman looked dubious still, but let it drop, moving to the other topic. "How were you able to stand it?"

Clark thought back to all those years of going to school with people wearing pieces of meteor rock as jewelry, all the encounters, heck, practically *living* in the stuff at times. "I guess I built up a tolerance. It hurts, but it would take a chunk a lot larger than that to disable me." He added, "If you try it, start off small. *Really* small, and at a distance. And where somebody can help."

Superman nodded and then moved forward and took a grip on the other Lex Luthor, hauling him up. "Time for you to pay for your crimes, Luthor."

The Luthor spat in his face.

The hero calmly wiped it off and turned to the fuzzy doorway.

"Wait," Clark said. "My Lex is missing -- your Luthor did something with him and I need to find him." Despite what Luthor had said earlier, Clark refused to believe that Lex was dead. Not like that. And he needed to know.

Superman blinked. "Lex?" he asked in slightly stunned surprise, an emphasis on the first name that showed he wasn't familiar with it.

Well, that explained the funny look the other universe's Luthor had given Clark earlier. "In this universe, we're friends."

"Friends?" This time, the question came from the Luthor. "Never!" This time he spat at Clark, but it didn't hit him. Clark was pretty sure he wouldn't have reacted as calmly as the other Superman, so just as well.

"Friends," Clark replied firmly. Okay, so they hadn't actually *talked* for over ten years. But they were still friends. After meeting this alternate Luthor, Clark knew that for certain. And he was desperately worried about his own Lex.

Superman turned around in the office, squinting. "Luthor would have kept him close by... he likes to play things tight." He pointed at the wall behind Lex's desk, "I can't scan through that area. Is there something behind it?"

"Lex's hidy-hole," Clark poked under the desk until he found the right button. The walls split, revealing a doorway behind. Normally, that door locked from the inside, which is why Clark hadn't thought of it originally, but the seams had been welded shut. Simultaneously, two sets of heat rays from the Supermen traced the edges and cut it open. Clark grabbed the edges and pried it off, throwing the door to one side.

Inside the room were two figures, one hunched protectively over the other until he saw who was coming in.

"Superman!" Lucas cried out with relief, moving slightly back. "Lex won't wake up. That monster with his face.... I think Lex is hurt inside. We've been in here for days..."

In the back of his mind, Clark heard a zapping sound and the humming shut down, but all his attention was on the unmoving figure on the floor, his head on Lucas' lap.

"Lex..." Clark hovered but didn't touch. Lucas was right -- Lex had been badly hurt. A normal human probably wouldn't have lived this long. There were broken bones, ribs... his spine was cracked. Caked blood on the outside of Lex's mouth told a story of punctured lungs, though that looked like it had healed. But what else was there that Clark couldn't see?

"Please help him," Lucas whispered, his hands protectively on his brother, his eyes pleading.

"God, Lex," Clark breathed out again as he knelt above his friend, ignoring Lucas. Clark laid a hand on Lex's neck, feeling the pulse there even though he could hear Lex's heart beating. He needed the extra touch because he was more scared than he'd ever been in his life. "Lex needs a doctor, but..." Clark stuttered to a stop as he didn't know if Lucas knew about Lex's mutation or not.

Lucas was eyeing him with a really funny look on his face, "Clark?" He shook his head, not in denial but just as if to clear his head. "Lex's doctor is Dr. Pinareli at Metropolis General -- he knows all about Lex. Dr. Rossi if Pinareli isn't there. But please, just hurry." Lucas reluctantly let go of Lex's hand, laying it on his chest. "He fell unconscious sometime last night and hasn't woken up since."

Zooming out to the other office, Clark broke the table, incidentally breaking the dimension hopping doodad while he was at it, and brought the board back in. Gently shifting Lex onto the board, Clark did his best not to jar the spine or other broken bones, strapping him on with his cape. He picked Lex and the board up. "You need to get to the hospital too." Lucas wasn't as bad as Lex, but he'd still been roughed up pretty badly.

Lucas smiled grimly, "I'll go the normal way." He looked with worry at his brother, "He's the only family that ever really cared about *me*..."

Clark nodded, and then flew to the hospital.

... ... ...

Nine hours later, Clark was sitting in the hospital waiting room doing just that; waiting.

After Superman had dropped Lex off, Clark had come back as himself. Sometime after that, Lucas had come in by ambulance accompanied by a horde of LuthorCorp security and employees. He'd nodded to Clark and left him there while the security cleared everybody else out. Now, Lucas was sitting on the other side, working one-handed on a laptop while an assistant kept running in and out with various business items. Lucas looked a little like a mummy, with all the stitches and wraps and bindings on him. Yet, like all Luthors, it didn't even seem to slow him down when it came down to taking care of things. Or, like the other Luthor Clark knew best, maybe it was Lucas' way of not thinking about the things he couldn't do anything about.

When a doctor walked in, Lucas proved his agitation by jumping up, dropping the laptop and tearing some of his stitches. "How is he?"

"Mr. Luthor is out of surgery and is recovering. You can go see him, but be careful -- some of the operation was very delicate."

Lucas gestured at Clark to come with him and started down the hall.

The doctor held out a hand, "I'm sorry, family only."

Turning back, Lucas looked at Clark rather than the doctor. "He is. In the ways that matter, he *is* Lex's family."

Clark opened his mouth but couldn't think of a thing to say. Lucas smiled and then headed out again. This time, when Clark followed him, the doctor didn't object.

The private room was quiet, only a slight hum of discreet machines. Lex was a slight figure under white sheets, so still that Clark sharpened his senses until he could both hear Lex's heart beat and see his chest rising. Clark remembered the broken body he'd brought over earlier. Lex looked a lot better now, but still so fragile. Unconscious, with bruised mottling over his pale skin, blue veins standing out, Lex looked completely vulnerable. It made Clark remember all those times when they were young. When they lived in Smallville, it seemed like Lex would get hurt every other month. One tended to forget it, as Lex would be back up, working at the factory, doing his corporation deals, strong as ever. But seeing Lex here, like this...

Clark closed his eyes, the younger Lex overlapping the older in his mind. He opened his eyes again and reached to touch the back of Lex's hand, needing the tactile sense and reassurance.

"That was the look," Lucas whispered.

Reluctantly, Clark turned his gaze to Lucas. "What?"

"I've never seen anybody else ever look at Lex like you do; like he's precious. People love him, they hate him, they are charmed by him, they are screwed by him. There are plenty of people who would die for him, and who really do care; Lex is good at instilling loyalty. But they don't... I think you're the only one who sees him as someone who needs taking care of. You want to take him home and feed him and love him and hold him."

Clark blinked. "Um..."

Lucas grinned bitterly, "I used to make my living gambling and conning people; I know how to read you." Moving so that Lex was between Lucas and Clark, Lucas sat down in a nearby chair and crossed his legs, then promptly uncrossed them, wincing as he pulled a wound.

"I remember you; from back when I first came to Smallville. Lex brought me to your place because he wanted his family to be together, but you were *so* jealous." Lucas laughed. "You didn't want Lex to have a blood brother because you wanted him all to yourself. But you knew you should be happy for Lex so you tried to suppress it -- didn't really work. But I gave you a B minus for effort."

"Lex really wanted a brother. He was happy to have found you," Clark offered. He couldn't disagree with Lucas' assessment, though he really wanted to.

"Unlike our dear Father, though he had his own plans." Lucas shifted to a more comfortable position, grimacing slightly at the pain, though Clark couldn't tell if it was the physical or the memory. "Lex kept me updated through the years. We'd meet and talk, though it was smarter for me to keep out of the family business way. You, though... You, he pushed away."

"I pushed him," Clark whispered, remembering their fights.

Lucas shrugged. He started to say something else, then stopped and got up again, his attention on Lex.

Clark looked down and tightened his hand around Lex's. The pale blue eyes were blinking open, confusion setting in as they focused on Clark. "Hey," Clark breathed, "Welcome back."

Lex just looked at him blankly. A faint movement like a shake of a head, only the motion was almost too miniscule for anybody to see.

On the other side of the bed, Lucas snorted. "It's not a hallucination, Bro."

Instantly, Lex's eyes sharpened, the mind behind them processing and comprehending. "Why?" he said, his voice hoarse but steady.

Lucas reached for the bed controls and moved it to sitting, while Clark steadied Lex. Lex's gaze never left Clark during the movement.

"Your guardian angel did some rescuing again. He's the one that got us out of there." Lucas held up a glass of water with a straw for Lex.

Obediently sipping, Lex glanced at Lucas. Stiffening, Lex's blue eyes went wide with surprise and then narrowed in a mix of something Clark couldn't read. "Lucas..." Lex said with horror in his voice, "What did I do to you?" Lex reached out a bandaged hand to touch the bandages on Lucas' face.

Lucas permitted the touch, but waved away the statement, his eyes snapping in annoyance, "No fucking way was that maniac you, Lex. It was a monster with your face, but NOT you. Stop that." He looked up at Clark, explaining, "Bro was hallucinating through a lot of last night before he fell into the coma. Thought he'd been split into two and that was his other self. Didn't help that the lunatic said as much when he was, ah," Lucas trailed off.

"He's gone now," Clark offered, a little weakly. He wasn't totally sure how much he should explain.

Lex closed his eyes and then reopened them. He looked over at Clark, then at Lucas again. "Clark is about to lie again," Lex said with a steadily weary voice.

"I..." Clark closed his eyes tightly, feeling all the pain of all the years. "Fine. It was an alternate universe. The Luthor from that world built something to come through -- he had plans for taking over this world. After I stopped him, my alternate came through and helped me find you, and then took him back. And the machine is broken, so that won't happen again."

Lex looked up at the ceiling, asking, "Why are my alternate selves always insane megalomaniacs?"

"If they weren't insane, they wouldn't be building alternate dimension hoppers in the first place!" Clark growled.

"But how come we never see any of *your* insane alternates?" Lex pointed out. "I think there's just better odds for my insanity than most people."

"Lex, I'm sure I have just as many insane alternates, it's just that *my* insane alternates have probably taken over their worlds and don't have to go searching for new ones to conquer."

"Oh, so you're saying that my alternates are so incompetent that they can't deal with their own worlds?"

"They're usually up against my alternates and all of the alternate Justice Leagues!"

"As I said..."

Clark rolled his eyes and leaned over and kissed Lex before quickly pulling back.

There was a very long silence in the room, finally broken by Lex clearing his throat. "Clark, what was that?"

"Bro, if you don't know, you've obviously lost a few brain cells with that last bit of trauma," Lucas said, his eyes twinkling as he watched them.

Unexpectedly, Lex's pale skin turned pink. Clark watched in fascination.

"Lucas," Lex hurriedly said, "How is LuthorCorp?"

His brother rolled his eyes in unison with Clark. "Your priorities are a little screwed up," Lucas said dryly. Lex glared at him. "LuthorCorp is fine," Lucas promised. "The alternate thing didn't do a whole hell of a lot -- ordered a few new projects, resurrected a few we'd axed, made a lab in the bottom of the tower and stocked it full of junk. We can clean most of the shit up pretty easily and not even look like you were gone."

"I'm that easy to replace, and the world doesn't even notice I'm insane and a madman," Lex mocked himself. "Maybe I'm the one that needs to find an alternate dimension."

Lucas reached over and pinched Lex's ear. The move was so unexpected that Clark only reacted after it was done.

"Ow!" Lex started to reach up to his ear and aborted the move as one of his arms had a needle in it, and the other hand was being held by Clark. He settled for glaring at Lucas, but it obviously wasn't as effective.

Clark was fascinated with the byplay. He wasn't used to seeing anybody else treat Lex casually, and certainly not playfully. It had been ten years or more since he'd done anything like it himself.

"Idiot," Lucas said, folding his arms across his chest. Or he started to and then winced and put his arms back down again. "I wasn't fooled, and neither was Clark. When you're holed up in your office day after day sending commands by email and remote and having impersonal meetings with staff... hell yeah, nobody else will notice. For God's sake, man, it's a corporation, not your best friend! It's like I've been saying -- get out and live a little."

Clark was *really* starting to like Lucas. He gazed at the man with a lot more respect. Lucas slipped him a wink when he noticed the glance.

Lex didn't miss the byplay either. He glowered some more and turned his snappishness onto Clark, "What the fuck were you doing there anyhow? Was I giving out interviews to the newspaper that I don't know about?"

That statement took a few seconds to process. "Ah, no. I was there as Superm---"

Lex ripped the needle out of his arm as he slapped his hand over Clark's mouth. He angled his body defensively in front of Clark as he turned towards Lucas. Monitors were going off all over the place and doctors came bursting in.

"Mr. Luthor!" The doctor tried to settle him down. "You shouldn't be moving. The operation---"

"Fuck the operation," Lex ground out through his teeth. "If there's damage, you can fix it later. For now, get the hell out, and take these Goddamned monitors off me!" He ripped a set off, and pulled another set of needles attached to IV bags out of his side. The sheets were bloody from where he'd been abusing himself and where his own stitches were coming apart.

Clark uselessly clenched his fists tight. At the first rampage of doctors and Lex's impending rage, Lucas had pulled him back to the far side of the room and was calmly standing there, watching.

"Easy," Lucas muttered out the side of his mouth. "He'll settle down in a minute and we're better off without the doctors anyway."

"The surgery..." Clark whispered back, scanning Lex with X-ray and wincing as he saw bones that had been starting to knit together wrenched apart again.

Lucas shrugged, "They'll probably have to have another. Or a few more. But he's fixed up enough right now that whatever damage he does to himself now, he'll live through."

Living was the important part. Clark stood quietly, trusting Lucas, though he desperately wanted to go wrap Lex in his arms and keep him from harming himself. Maybe that had always been his problem -- he hadn't waited for Lex, forcing Clark's own wants on him before Lex was ready.

Lex finally succeed in throwing all the doctors and monitors out. They tried to take Clark and Lucas with them as well, but Lex firmly resisted that. The doctors, being well acquainted with Lex, gave in, with a wry comment that they were scheduling his next surgery for 7am the next morning.

When they were all out, Lucas and Clark came back from the corner where they'd been hiding. Lex continued to glare at them, but he was obviously much weaker, the struggle and the emotions having driven a lot of his vitality out. Clark's heart turned over again, watching Lex fight to keep some semblance of 'normal' just a few hours after he'd come back from the dead. Silently, he cursed the father that made Lex think he had to be strong even at a time like this.

Reaching out, Clark brushed his fingers over Lex's forehead, stroking down his cheek. When he reached the pillow, he left his fingers resting lightly there. Lex's blue eyes watched him steadily and he neither flinched nor drew back, the expression in his eyes going from anger to sadness.

"Lucas already knows, Lex," Clark went back to what had caused the violence. "It's okay."

"And don't worry, Bro," Lucas offered, "I'll never make you choose." His mouth twisted wryly, "'Cause I know which side I'd end up on."

Lex turned towards him, "Lucas---"

Lucas cut him off. "No, seriously. I know. It's in our blood, isn't it? To think of the choices. But I won't ever do that to you, not like Dad." He laughed a little bitterly. "Dad's not here anymore, though, so you don't have sacrifice yourself anymore for those you'll protect. Promise me you won't be the martyr this time, 'kay?"

There was a short silence while Lex and Lucas watched each other. Clark couldn't read their expressions. Luthors trained differently but with the same result of lonely independence and walls thicker than castles. Yet they'd both kept the gates open and let people in, despite the odds.

"Okay, Lucas," Lex finally said. "I promise." He smiled; a weary smile but a real one. "Now, get. I've got to talk to Clark." Lex jerked his head towards the door and then winced at the movement.

"Right," Lucas gave Lex a nod, a wink to Clark, than he cheerfully headed out, closing the door behind him with a definite click.

After Lucas left, the other two occupants didn't say anything. Clark moved his fingers a little, a gentle stroke alongside Lex's cheek, and Lex ducked very slightly into it.

Clark broke the silence first. "I never wanted you to sacrifice yourself for me. I never wanted anybody to."

Lex's mouth twisted, "Nobody ever wants that. And yet, people will."

Thinking about it, Clark realized that Lex actually had more direct experience with that than he did. And not only the people that really had died for Lex, but also the ones who had given everything up for him, fading out so Lionel wouldn't hurt his son. Small wonder that Lex had done something so similar. Twice, actually. Clark remembered the girl from Lex's teen years. And look how that had turned out. Clark's heart twisted, and he realized he really couldn't *say* anything that would ever change Lex's desire to protect Clark, even against Lex.

"I... uh, I don't want you to do anything I wouldn't in trying to protect me." Clark wasn't sure if he got his meaning out with that. Some journalist he was.

With a grin that only moved half of his mouth, Lex replied with that mixture of amusement and cynicism that was such a part of him. "Murder? Don't worry, I haven't dropped that far." He looked across the room at a wall. "Nixon really was just about your dad, nothing else. I thought about trying to aim for the arm... but it was too quick, no time to think. I just aimed for the chest and squeezed."

"And saved my dad's life," Clark assured Lex. Nobody, not even Clark's dad, had ever thought it was anything else. Lex was too shaken up after it, almost shocky. They'd taken him home with them, and tried to keep him, but Lex had to head out for all the other details going on with his own dad in the hospital and all the damage and recovery efforts still.

"I've done some kidnapping," Lex offered, moving away from their past with another deliberate jab at himself.

Clark opened his mouth and then closed it. Come to think of it, a lot of what he did when running around saving people could be considered kidnapping, though usually of bad people and he'd turn them into the authorities later. He doubted if Lex ever kidnapped any girl scouts.

"No torture, though I have financially destroyed and ruined lives, which could count as the same, or worse. Does it go under murder when they commit suicide?"

Clark snorted, remembering the alternate Superman and his reaction to Clark's breaking the alternate Luthor's finger. "Lex, I've learned I'm not nearly as black and white moral as I used to think I was." He stroked his hand down Lex's arm, resting over the spot where the IV had torn out and was now almost healed, just a bit of mottling showing under the pale skin. "And I *know* you're not even one tenth as evil as you think you are. So are we ready to move on yet?"

Lex's smile turned from bitter to a more open, real warmth. He turned his hand in Clark's until their fingers intertwined.

Bending down, Clark kissed Lex again. This was a gentle one, a bit exploratory. Other than the one he'd used to shut Lex up, it was actually their first kiss. Clark shifted slightly and nibbled a little on Lex's lower lip. He wanted more... but wasn't going to go there, not yet. Lex wasn't doing anything either to deepen the kiss, though he was actively returning it. It seemed they were together on this.

Reluctantly, Clark finally pulled away, tracing Lex's lips lightly as he moved back.

Lex smiled, even as his eyelids drooped down.

Clark realized that Lex wasn't so much trying to keep it light, as unable to do more. With a pang of guilt, Clark remembered that they were in a hospital room, and Lex had just come out of a many-hour operation. And would have to have another one later.

"Stop feeling guilty," Lex said sleepily. "I don't even know *what* you're feeling guilty for, but I can feel it." Lex gave their entwined hands a squeeze.

With a laugh, Clark used his free hand to stroke the side of Lex's head, where smooth skin had regrown over the lacerations.

Lex opened his eyes and resettled himself into more of a sitting position. "That reminds me... what did alert you? What had he done that was so bad that Superman got involved, but wasn't bad enough for Lucas to think we can't fix it?"

Clark thought back to an empty kitchen. "He didn't send me flowers."

Lex blinked.

"May 1st. No flowers. I... got worried, finally, and came to check."

Disengaging their hands, Lex used his to cover his eyes and started laughing, a low, harsh sound.

"Lex?" Clark hated hearing that tone of self-mocking in Lex's voice, but didn't know how to make it stop.

Eventually, Lex stopped on his own. He didn't move his hand off his eyes, though, as he bit out, "Clark, you... The alternate me showed up on May second."

"Huh?"

Lex finally dropped his hand, his mouth in a wry twist and his eyes shaded. "It was me, Clark. *I* was the one who didn't send you flowers this year."

The feeling that Clark had had while staring at the empty counter returned to him. He couldn't think of a thing to say.

Luckily, Lex kept talking. "After fifteen years; do you mean all I ever needed, to get your attention, was to *stop* sending them?"

Okay, that was a bit much. Clark snorted, "Lex, you *always* had my attention. And if you'd stopped sending them six years ago, I think I would have thrown a party." That was the year of the thistles. But now wasn't then. "Why did you stop?"

Lex shook his head. "Fifteen years, Clark. I thought it was time to move on."

"But now? When we might actually..."

Closing his eyes again, Lex sighed. "Last year. Last year was my extravagant, 'let's reconcile' bouquet. I told myself last year that it would be my last one. Dad was dead, Lucas and I were changing things; if you wanted to talk to me again, this was finally the chance. When I didn't hear from you, I thought there had been too much between us and that my last chance really was gone." Lex's voice was as hollow as Clark had felt.

The garden flowers that had reminded Clark so much of home. Clark remembered a previous year where the flowers had been roses that had filled the family room. And yet, Lex considered the garden flowers to be his 'extravagant' gesture. Clark supposed that in a Lexian world, the more restrained was actually the more thoughtful gift. "I almost did. I picked up the phone three times. I had an open email with your address on it sitting on my computer for hours. I couldn't think of a thing to say. Beyond 'thank you', but that was too little; there was too much else I needed to say. And then there was something I had to head out to -- a fire, I think. I told myself I'd do it tomorrow. And then that tomorrow, I told myself the next tomorrow. And then the weekend, when I could come over. And then well, maybe a working day, in case you wanted the excuse. And then the year just sortof disappeared."

Lex snorted, softly. "You haven't changed all that much from High School, have you?"

Clark ducked his head. "Not really," he admitted, fighting a grin.

Shifting, Lex moved over on the bed away from Clark, then he patted the side, "Have time for a nap?"

Compared to regular hospital beds, the one Lex was in was pretty wide... Clark mucked with the controls to lower it down from the sitting position, and then he kicked off his shoes and climbed in. Lex was lying on his back, his head turned towards Clark. With his injuries, Lex wouldn't be spooning anytime soon. They'd do what they could, though. Clark curled on his side gently up next to Lex, as delicately as he could while still making as much contact as he could. Tucking his head in, Clark touched noses with Lex, who laughed.

The pale blue eyes had a look of wonder and surprise in them that made Clark's heart melt as he laid his hand on Lex's cheek.

"I'm not quite sure if I'm not dying still. If the mind makes up fantasies for itself to ease the pain, this would be pretty close."

The underlying pain in Lex's voice made Clark want to hold him and never let go. "I wish I could have saved you earlier," Clark said, not referring to today but to fifteen years ago.

Lex got the reference, his mouth curving up. "You couldn't have," he replied simply, "but we can make our own world now."

Clark inched forward and kissed Lex. Gentle at first, and then deepening until he reluctantly pulled himself back. "Hey, Lex," Clark traced an aimless pattern on the edge of Lex's ear.

When Lex recovered his breath, he responded, "What?"

"You remember back when you started the flowers?"

"Beltane, yes."

"So you were also talking about some other parts of it that you couldn't do in Smallville..." Clark's mischievous side ducked out from where he usually kept it hidden. "We're not in Smallville now."

Lex laughed. "When I'm out of the hospital," he promised. "You'll have flowers again, and there are a few fertility rites we could celebrate." Lex's eyes gleamed, "Quite a few. Though, of course, the fertility part is a little wasted on us."

"Umm..." Clark frantically tried to remember what the AI had told him about that. He really hadn't been paying that much attention, not in a position at that time where it might ever happen.

Lex's eyes widened. "You're joking."

Silence.

"Clark, tell me you're joking, please."

"I guess we'll find out," Clark shrugged, than kissed Lex again, preventing any other reply.