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‘Soon you’re gonna start keeping your toothbrush in here, along with a change of underwear,’ Lex jested greeting Clark into his mansion.
Several weeks had passed since Clark’s ordeal with Alicia. Everyone, the farm boy himself included, had been hoping time would heal the wounds. Clark was now able to cope with school life. He didn’t jolt with panic whenever a girl brushed against his shoulder in the corridor. He could manage a casual conversation with Lana or Chloe (his two friends had a vague idea of what had occurred and were now careful to respect his boundaries). His life seemed to slowly return to normal.
Yet, every now and again, seemingly random events triggered him. A scent of someone’s deodorant, a tone of voice, the weather. He didn’t get the flashbacks as often as he had the first couple of days, but they were still there. He had learnt to anticipate them and tackle them with the grounding technique Lex had taught him: focus on your breath, focus on your surroundings, focus on people and objects around you. However, some of these days, the attacks were just too frequent at it took all of Clark’s strength to keep warding them off. It was at days like this (which happened far more often than Clark was willing to admit) that the farm boy found refuge in the presence of his dear friend.
Lex sincerely enjoyed his company. Whenever Clark showed up unannounced, he would always greet him with a carefree smile filled with unobtrusive understanding. And even when the billionaire was busy running his business, the farm boy was always welcome to the peace and quiet of the vast mansion with its well-equipped library, pool table and hi-tech entertainment centre. But Clark did realise he’d begun to take too much advantage of his friend’s hospitality. It had to stop, he knew that. It was too easy to keep relying on Lex’s kindness and support. He made him feel safe, but in his heart, Clark knew he was avoiding the problem rather than trying to face it.
And so, he made the decision not to visit Lex more than once a week. And he intended to keep that resolution. Truly. Even that stormy Friday night when his pickup broke down in the vicinity, he figured that, rather than walking to the Luthor mansion to ask for help, he’d listen in for any traffic.
However, instead of car engines, a tormented howl reached his ears.
‘Julian! Julian!’ echoed amidst the rain.
Clark immediately recognised the voice. And he ran. So fast that hardly a single raindrop managed to land on his shoulders.
***
He spotted Lex standing on the balcony ledge barefoot in his pyjamas.
‘LEX!!’ he yelled mortified.
But Lex couldn’t hear him. The billionaire was looking blankly in space, crying his dead brother’s name.
‘Lex?’ Clark heard another voice coming from the balcony. It was Lionel Luthor. ‘Lex!!’
The old Luthor ran towards his son in an attempt to catch him and pull him off the ledge. Instead, he brought the opposite result. Lex turned around, startled by the sudden touch, pushed his father’s hand away and lost his balance.
Clark’s heart froze, but his body acted without thinking. Sooner than Lionel had realised his son was falling to his death, the boy of steel was there to catch him in his arms. He cradled his friend and looked at him, but Lex’s gaze was still absentminded and flighty. The farm boy tried calling him again by his name but to no avail.
He busted the door open with his shoulder and carried Lex inside the mansion. In the hall he stumbled upon panicked Lionel who greeted him with a stuttered ‘Thank god you were here!’ but Clark just glared at him and walked past without a word.
He sat Lex on the sofa, but the billionaire was still muttering his brother’s name obliviously.
‘Not this again!’ Lionel moaned. ‘Son, we’ve been over this a hundred times!’
Clark ignored him. Instead, he focused on his friend, gently cradling his head in his hands, his forehead pressed against Lex’s and whispering softly “Breathe, Lex. You’re safe. Just breathe.” And indeed, after a while, Lex’s breathing synchronised with Clark’s.
‘What happened?’ Lex asked when he’d come to his senses.
‘You were just sleepwalking,’ Clark explained.
‘Just sleepwalking?!’ Lionel scoffed. ‘You threw yourself off the balcony! Thank goodness young Mr Kent was there to catch you!’
Clark clenched his jaws but decided to omit the fact that it was Lionel who had caused the fall.
‘Ever the saviour,’ Lex managed to summon a faint smile as he glanced at the farm boy.
‘Lex,’ his father wasn’t going to give up, ‘this can’t go on. You could’ve died. Son, you need help.’
Clark felt Lex’s hand shudder and his fingers claw at the sleeve of the farm boy’s soaking wet shirt. The billionaire’s eyes widened in terror.
‘Mr Luthor,’ he turned to meet him and sent him an icily stern look. ‘I’ll handle Lex. I think you should leave.’
Lionel was set aback. He’d never expect to be thrown out of what was technically his own house and normally he’d never have it. But there was something in the young Kent’s eyes, in his voice and posture that made the old billionaire cede.
***
‘Can I ask what happened back there?’ Clark enquired unobtrusively.
They were sitting on the sofa, Lex sipping single malt from a crystal glass. Now, for a moment, he focused his eyes on the glistening amber liquid, only to lift his gaze up and stare at the cabinet, considering something. Clark was ready to back off, reassure his friend he hadn’t meant to pry, but Lex spoke up.
‘Ever since Belle Reeve,’ he confessed, ‘I’ve been reliving my brother’s death.’
‘You mean, this wasn’t the first time?’ Clark tried to conceal how this information upset him.
Lex shook his head morosely.
‘Every time there’s a storm or heavy rain, I find myself either sleepwalking or hallucinating. I think those electroshocks did something to me.’
Clark could easily pick up the hesitation in Lex’s voice. He had been reluctant to share his issues with a single soul in fear someone would deem him a danger to himself or others and forcefully commit him to Belle Reeve. Then, a sudden realisation mortified him. What if Lex really was a danger to himself?
‘Lex,’ he said slowly, trying to hide any hints of distress in his voice, ‘how many times have you found yourself on that balcony ledge?’
‘Three,’ looking away, Lex confessed reluctantly.
Clark blanched. He could’ve died three times and I wasn’t there to stop him.
‘I’m staying with you tonight,’ he decided and before Lex could say anything, added: ‘You’ve seen me through my worst, it’s only fair that I do the same for you.’
Lex’s first instinct was to protest, but he realised he had no argument. Besides, Clark’s offer was far more considerate that what his father would have in store for him, had he found out. The billionaire smiled at his friend with an apologetic gratitude.
***
Lex was lounging on the sofa, reading a book, when Clark came out of the shower. He was wearing the pair of pyjamas he never got to use that night he slept in the safe room. Lex noticed him and was about to put his legs down, but Clark scooped his ankles, sat down and placed the billionaire’s feet on his lap.
It wasn’t the first time Lex had realised his friend had become comfortable with their physical contact. Lex himself didn’t mind. It was one of the least disturbing ways that ill-fated night had affected the farm boy and the billionaire secretly admitted that, amongst his many scars and trust issues, he was finding this friendly noncommittal closeness soothing.
‘So, since trauma seems to be the theme of the evening,’ Lex spoke up after a while, setting down his book, ‘tell me, how are you holding up?’
If the question had come from anyone other than the billionaire (and possibly Clark’s parents), it would’ve upset him. But with Lex, he knew that with a single word his friend would back off immediately. It was this sense of security provided by this slim man with his crossed ankles rested upon his thigh that allowed Clark to open up.
‘Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be the same,’ the boy of steel sighed. ‘On the outside, everything seems normal, but then I find myself question virtually everyone. Take Lana. I just don’t look at her the way I used to. I want to trust her, but I can’t bring these walls down.’
‘I wish I could tell you it’ll pass,’ responded Lex softly, ‘but the truth is, something like that, it just changes you. You heal, but the scars remain.’
Clark nodded, knowing his friend was right.
‘And then, there’s you,’ the farm boy continued after a pause.
‘Me?!’ Lex raised his eyebrows, staggered.
‘Oh, don’t act like you didn’t notice,’ Clark smiled faintly. ‘I’ve been clinging onto you for support ever since that night. I’ve been basically letting you take care of me. I’ve been pushy and needy.’
‘Yeah!’ Lex snorted sarcastically. ‘Right now, you’re needily preventing me from falling to my death in my sleep!’
‘What if it is neediness?’ the farm boy said in a feeble voice. ‘What if I’m just too afraid of being left without you?’
For a second, Lex looked at him wide-eyed, his lips parted in bewilderment. But the next moment, he gifted his friend with the warmest smile. He bent his knees and pulled forward just enough to rest his hand on the farm boy’s shoulder.
‘If that’s the case, Clark,’ he said, his voice trembling, ‘then you have no idea how touched I am by the fact you would rely on me.’
***
Clark remembered the billionaire falling asleep on the sofa, shortly after their conversation. He had considered carrying his friend to his bedroom, but it would seem he dozed off himself before he put this idea into action.
It was still dark outside when a gust of icy wind and a distant thunder woke him up. He opened his eyes to the realisation that the balcony door was open again and Lex was gone. He raced outside.
To his relief, he found Lex standing calmly by the ledge, not on top of it.
‘Lex?’ he called him anxiously.
‘It’s all right, Clark,’ the man responded. ‘I’m awake.’
‘What are you doing here?’ Clark tried not to reveal concern in his voice.
‘You’ve made a mistake, Clark,’ he said grimly. ‘I’m not who you think I am. You don’t know me.’
Lex had lied when he reassured Clark. He was awake enough to note his presence, but as he looked into the darkness, cold from the wind, he stood at the edge of two worlds. The loss he suffered in the past. The loss he was going to suffer now. Both self-inflicted.
‘Lex, what are you talking about?’
‘You take me for this trustworthy adult who runs a huge business and has his life sorted out. But the truth is, Clark, years ago I did something and it’s going to haunt me forever.’
‘Is this connected to Julian?’ Clark wagered a guess.
A flash of lightning illuminated the billionaire’s gloomy face as he nodded slowly.
‘He didn’t die of SIDS.’
The farm boy frowned, puzzled.
A thunder rolled somewhere far away. A crying baby. And then, suddenly, silence. For a second Lex struggled for words.
‘He died because of me,’ he finally confessed. ‘I killed my own brother.’
Clark froze, but only for a second. Another flash of lightning lit up the darkness.
‘Lex, you were twelve,’ he said compassionately.
‘Twelve, not six! I should’ve known better. But he wouldn’t stop crying, so I…’ his voice drowned in a rumbling thunder, this time much louder and nearer than the previous one. The storm was drawing nearer.
A baby face, swollen and blue. Purple lips. Motionless. Dead.
A violent gust of wind brought the first drops of rain.
‘Lex, I don’t know what exactly happened,’ the farm boy made a step towards him, ‘but it sounds like an accident.’
The rain was now beating hard against the stones of the balcony floor. Clark pulled even closer. Shh. You’ll wake the baby.
Lionel Luthor walking towards him at the boarding school’s balcony. Dribbles of rain running down his face. A hand reaching out to get a hold of him. I’m gonna drop Julian!
‘Lex, stop it!!’ Clark shouted holding him by the upper arms. The billionaire was leaning dangerously out of the ledge, his hand reaching out in a desperate attempt to catch something that wasn’t there. ‘Snap out of it!’
He’s hanging over the ledge. His father’s arms prevent him from jumping. The stern parent would later beat him up for causing a scene.
Clark pulled him back and, ignoring all protests, pressed him against his chest. Lex kept tossing, flinging and shouting, trying to pull away, beating him with his fists, but the boy of steel wouldn’t let go. It took several minutes before he’d spent all his energy and calmed down. Clark held him for another moment before he became certain that his friend had come to his senses.
‘Look at me, Clark,’ he said quietly, his weakened, breaking voice barely discernible amongst the rain. ‘I can’t save anyone. A few drops of rain and I fall apart. I’m a wreck.’
But the boy of steel wouldn’t let him fall apart. He pulled him back into his strong, broad arms. He would hold him together for as long as necessary.
‘Say what you will, Lex,’ the boy of steel whispered to his ear, not even bothering to conceal the trembling of his voice and the shaking of his hands. ‘I need you. You mean the world to me.’
It was that moment, as the words left his mouth, that Clark Kent truly realised it. It wasn’t post-traumatic dependence that kept him at Lex’s side. It was so, so much more.
***
Clark didn’t sleep much the rest of the night. Lying alone on the sofa he kept reliving their conversation on the balcony. What would Lex make of it in the morning? Would he have read his intentions? The feelings he’d been hiding so deeply he hadn’t realised them himself until now? What if he was going to reject him? Clark started to run scenarios in his head how to convince Lex he’d misunderstood him and whatever he had said that night he meant only as a friend.
It was around seven in the morning when he woke up from a shallow slumber. His super-hearing told him Lex had already got up, so he changed back into yesterday’s clothes. Guess I could use that toothbrush now, he chuckled at the memory of Lex’s recent jest.
Lex was standing in the dining room, his hips leaning against the oaken table. Holding a cup of coffee in his hand, he was gazing out of the window pensively.
‘Morning,’ he greeted Clark with a soft smile as soon as he noticed the farm boy at the door.
‘Hey,’ Clark replied. There was a second of awkward silence. ‘Did you get any sleep afterwards?’ the farm boy finally asked, not sure what else to say.
‘Somewhat,’ Lex responded. ‘Listen, Clark, about last night…’
Clark could only hope the billionaire wouldn’t notice how nervous and tense he’d just become.
‘We don’t have to talk about it,’ he blurted, hoping it would come out as supportive rather than defensive. ‘What you told me last night doesn’t change how I feel- what I think about you.’ Shit. Stop talking, Clark.
‘That’s exactly what I wanted to talk about,’ Lex was speaking slowly, carefully choosing his words and making sure there was kindness in his voice. ‘I must admit, I’d never expect to hear something like that from you, or, frankly, from anyone. To be honest, you took me by surprise and, at first, I wasn’t sure what to make of it.’
Clark knew where this conversation was going, what he was about to hear. He could literally feel their relation shatter in front of his eyes like a crystal glass dropped on concrete. All this with just a few reckless words.
‘I mean, I guess, maybe I should’ve noticed… realised this before,’ Lex was now struggling for words, clearly embarrassed. ‘Honestly, I’m not even sure I read this right, so just stop me if I didn’t…’
The farm boy was glad he’d spent those couple of hours preparing for this. He took a deep breath, summoned the most carefree smile he could muster and was about to deliver a reassurance that last night he had chosen his words awkwardly in a desperate attempt to calm Lex down, that it was gratitude talking and nothing more than sincere friendship and that it was no different than the support the billionaire had given him when he needed it most. Clark knew he would say just about any lie he could think of in order to preserve what he had with Lex.
But before he could utter a word, a sudden commotion coming from the hall interrupted them.
Lex sighed impatiently. ‘I’ll check what that’s about,’ he grumbled and left.
Alone, the farm boy collapsed onto a chair with a sigh and hid his face in his palms. Part of him was hoping that whatever was going on downstairs would distract Lex enough to make him forget about this whole conversation. From now on, he would have to be twice as careful not to let on how he felt. He could still visit under the pretence of concern (it would hardly be a lie), but no more casual closeness or careless words.
Meanwhile, Lex was taking quite a while to manage whatever the source of commotion was. Clark decided to listen in.
‘Do you even have a warrant?’ Lex was asking in an upset voice.
‘You know very well I don’t need one in this situation,’ that was the sheriff speaking. ‘Now I suggest you come willingly rather than making us do this the hard way.’
Clark dashed downstairs.
‘Lex!’ he called without thinking. Lex was standing with his handcuffed wrists in front of him, flanked by two police officers. When he looked at Clark, his eyes were filled with despair.
‘Clark!’ he tried to walk towards his friend, as if to seek refuge by his side, but one of the officers put his hand on the billionaire’s shoulder to stop him.
‘What’s going on here?’ Clark enquired, looking daggers at the sheriff.
‘Go home, Mr Kent,’ she said with authority. ‘This doesn’t concern you.’
‘The way I see it,’ he was trying to keep his cool, ‘you came here without a warrant and now you’re arresting an innocent man. On what grounds?’
The sheriff puffed. She glanced at Lex but seeing as he didn’t protest, she decided to answer the question.
‘We’ve been informed that last night Mr Luthor made two suicide attempts. As a result, we are obliged to bring him to custody to ensure his safety until he can receive proper care. Now back off, Mr Kent, or I’ll have to arrest you for assisting a suicide.’
‘Lex isn’t suicidal!’ Clark protested.
‘Well, I know for a fact that you know otherwise, Mr Kent. We were given access to the mansion’s security footage that clearly shows him attempting to jump off the balcony last night and you stopping him.’
Lionel, Clark and Lex realised simultaneously.
‘That wasn’t a suicide attempt,’ Clark objected. ‘He was sleepwalking! And I was there to stop him.’ He hesitated for a moment, and then he added: ‘And I will be the next time it happens.’
‘I appreciate your dedication, Mr Kent,’ said Lionel Luthor, suddenly appearing at the door, ‘but you can’t be expected to put your life on hold every time my son has a mental breakdown!’
At the sight of his father, Lex blanched with terror.
‘No!’ Lex choked as dread overcame him. ‘No, you can’t do this to me! You can’t take my memories again!’
Mortified, he looked at Clark. In a frenzy, he managed to break free of the police officers and dashed towards the boy of steel.
‘Don’t let him do this again!’ he pleaded desperately. ‘Don’t let me forget! Clark, I-’ he groaned sharply and collapsed into Clark’s arms. The farm boy raised his eyes and realised one of the officers had zapped the billionaire with a stun gun.
‘Do you think you can solve everything with electroshocks?!’ Clark yelled furiously, piercing Lionel with his eyes.
‘No, of course not,’ the old billionaire responded composedly. ‘Relax, Clark. I’m not taking him to Belle Reeve. You paint me out to be some kind of a monster, but all I want is to make my only son better.’
The boy of steel knew better than to give faith to anything Lionel said. While the officers were dragging his unconscious friend out, he seriously considered using his powers to break him free. But the presence of both the sheriff and the old billionaire posed too high a risk. He would have to go about it a more subtle way.
***
Clark knew there was only one person he could turn to for help. Chloe had barely got up and had breakfast when the farm boy showed up at her door.
‘Clark!’ she gasped, surprised. Her friend had hardly visited her at home and not once since that fateful night with Alicia. ‘Did something happen?’
‘I need your help,’ he said with urgency.
He told her briefly what had passed.
‘I see why you want to rescue him,’ said Chloe once she got the full story, ‘but, Clark, it sounds like Lex might really need help.’
‘Perhaps,’ Clark agreed, ‘but definitely not the kind Lionel chose for him. Now, he said he wasn’t taking him to Belle Reeve. Unless he was lying, I’m gonna need your help finding out where he might be.’
***
Lex was sitting against a wall in a white padded room, his arms wrapped around his knees. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed. Minutes seemed to drag endlessly. He knew what was coming. He just didn’t know when.
Don’t forget. Don’t forget.
He was furious and distraught. Last time, his father’s shenanigans had cost him seven weeks’ worth of memories. How much was he going to lose this time? Would he forget what had happened to Clark? There had been nights when he wished he could forget the sight he saw than night, the sight of his dearest friend, the whole town’s ray of goodness and light, fallen into the depths of the worst kind of betrayal. But he now realised - how could he support him if he didn’t remember all that? He had to remember. For him.
Don’t forget. Don’t forget.
And then there was last night. You mean the world to me. He should’ve noticed it sooner. Now that he thought back, it had been so obvious! And then, as the night had progressed, lying awake in his bedroom he gradually realised how much repressing he had been doing himself. And while the feelings would probably stay – he now knew they had been there far longer than electroshocks could erase – the realisation would vanish and might never occur again.
Don’t forget.
Especially if Clark decided to wall up and got more cautions with words from now on. He still wasn’t sure if he hadn’t imagined the meaning he read into that sentence. He wasn’t sure the conversation he’d initiated that morning was the right course of action. But even should he opt for secrecy after all, he yearned to preserve what was in his heart.
Don’t forget.
‘Clark…’ he whispered under his breath.
All those times he smiled. All the times he magically whisked him from danger. The times he came to him for help. The times he forgave him and gave their friendship another chance.
Do not forget.
***
‘I think I got them,’ said Chloe still glued to the screen.
They were sitting at the Torch editorial room. As soon as they’d got there that morning, they began watching the town camera near the police station. But they soon realised they were too late – Lex had already been transferred when they began their surveillance. So they started to look over all the archive footage Chloe was able to pull up. Now finally, after three hours, they got a hit.
‘Where?’ Clark immediately got from his chair and leaned over Chloe to look at her monitor.
Chloe got so used to Clark always keeping his distance for the past weeks, she was actually startled by this sudden closeness. Only yesterday he’d recoiled from her sharply and then sent her an apologetic smile when she accidentally brushed against him at the corridor. Right now, he didn’t seem to care much for boundaries.
‘Uhh,’ she focused on the footage she’d been watching. ‘Somewhere in the outskirts of Metropolis. Sorry, Clark, I don’t know the city that well.’
‘I do,’ Clark responded grimly. Summerholt Institute. If there was one place more dangerous than Belle Reeve, this was it.
He bolted before Chloe could prompt him to share what he knew.
***
‘Are you certain this will work?’ Lionel Luthor asked.
‘We’ve tested this technology on several patients,’ assured Dr Garner. ‘Coating the electrodes with meteor rock has allowed us to render the patient highly susceptible to suggestion and memory manipulation. We’ve also managed to curb the short-term memory loss to the minimum and…’
‘Yes, yes,’ said Lionel impatiently, ‘I don’t care about that. Will it really do what you’re promising?’
‘Have no doubts, Mr Luthor,’ replied the scientist. ‘When we’re done, your son will never be able to question your authority.’
‘Good,’ said the old billionaire. ‘Then let’s get right down to it.’
When they entered the padded room accompanied by two male nurses, Lex cowered against the wall at the sight of them.
‘No!’ he begged. ‘Please, dad, I’m not a threat to you! Please, just let me be!’
But Lionel just nodded at Dr Garner and the nurses dragged the young man out of the room. He tried to resist them, but didn’t stand a chance against the two sturdy men.
***
As soon as Clark got to the front gate of the institute, he began listening in. It took a moment, but he finally picked up on familiar names.
‘Everything’s set, Mr Luthor,’ said a voice.
In the background he could now clearly discern Lex’s moans muffled by a gag. He began scanning the building. Soon enough he spotted a room with several people standing around a silhouette tussling on an operating table they must’ve been strapped to.
‘Excellent,’ he now heard Lionel. ‘Proceed.’
Clark had no time to locate any surveillance cameras and fry them with his heat vision. He could only hope he’d be fast enough to avoid getting caught on them.
***
Lex scuffled against the leather straps but he knew it was futile. Still, he refused to accept the thought of losing part of himself once again. Don’t forget, don’t forger, don’t forget, don’t forget. He repeated like a mantra in a desperate hope it could help preserve the memory. You mean the world to me.
He found himself begging providence for a divine intervention, for the horrific surge of electricity never to reach his temples. Alas, it soon did, sharp, abrupt and violent.
***
Clark barged into the operating theatre. He pushed one of the nurses against the wall, rendering him unconscious. The other nurse backed away. The boy of steel ran to the operating table where Lex was lying in convulsions. Dr Garner tried to stop him, but only to join the unconscious nurse lying at the door. Without thinking, the boy of steel began tearing the electrodes off his friend’s head.
Sharp pain seared across his hand, up his arm and hit his brain with a sharp jolt. He managed to rip off one of the belts constricting Lex’s body before he blacked out.
***
An upset woman. Lionel Luthor is forcing her to hold a baby. Her baby. She doesn’t want to. She’s afraid to love her own child.
A baby crying. Up the stairs. A sudden silence. The woman standing over the crib, a pillow in her hands. She smiles eerily. ‘Don’t wake the baby, he’s sleeping.’ A swollen blue baby face. Lionel Luthor bellows in sorrow and rage, beats up his only son.
When he came to, Lex was kneeling over him. The theatre was lit in red emergency light. His contact with the kryptonite-coated electrodes must’ve caused a shorting.
‘Why?’ he implored. ‘Why would you do this to me again, dad?’
Lionel Luthor was standing opposite them, looking at his son with utmost detest.
‘Because, Lex,’ he said and it was as if he was addressing the most despicable criminal, ‘every time you succumb to your trauma, I get to relive if with you. I have to remember again that my only son committed fratricide, that he robbed me of my child!’
Clark noticed Lex’s cheeks tense up and his face become overcome with grief and guilt.
‘Lex didn’t do it,’ he spoke up.
‘What?’ Lionel reacted, puzzled and annoyed. ‘What can you know about it?’
‘His mother did,’ the farm boy continued. ‘She suffocated Julian with a pillow.’
‘How dare you!’ the old billionaire began approaching them, ready to hit Clark. ‘You have no shame insulting the memory of my dear wife!’
Lex rose up and stood in his way, sheltering Clark with sudden fearlessness. The boy of steel also got on his feet, ready to block any blow Lionel might send his son’s way.
‘She was suffering from postpartum depression and your idea of treatment was to force Julian onto her,’ the farm boy reckoned. ‘I saw it just now when I got electrocuted. Lex’s memory must’ve somehow found its way to my mind.’
‘Lies!’ Lionel bellowed. ‘That’s not possible!’
‘Next to the crib there was a blue night lamp with some stars, the moon, and a knight on a horse,’ Clark recounted.
‘St George, the dragon-slayer,’ Lex remarked in astonishment. He remembered the lamp.
‘That night Lex was wearing blue pyjamas and a grey robe,’ Clark continued.
‘They had to be thrown away because the blood wouldn’t come off,’ the young billionaire recalled, ‘after you beat me up.’
‘It makes no sense,’ the old Luthor protested. ‘Why would you take the blame?’
‘Because I was terrified what you might do to mum! I genuinely believed with time you’d find it in you to forgive your own son for causing an accident, no matter how horrible!’ He chuckled bitterly with one final realisation, ‘Over time I had repeated that lie so many times I began to believe it myself.’
The old Luthor was now looking at Lex mortified, his eyes wide-open, his lips apart, his body motionless.
‘Lex…’ Lionel finally uttered in trembling voice, ‘Son, if I had known… if only you’d…’
But Lex didn’t care for his father’s prostration.
‘Let’s get out of here, Clark,’ he said, turning his back on the old billionaire.
***
They didn’t speak much on their way back to Smallville. Clark managed to convince Lex he hadn’t brought his pickup, because he’d tagged along with Pete who happened to be going on an errand to Metropolis (later he’d have to make sure to give his friend a heads up so that he corroborated with the story). They found their way to the LuthorCorp Plaza and took Lex’s helicopter.
***
Clark was mildly surprised to find his friend waiting for him in his barn that same evening.
‘I was hoping you could help me out,’ Lex explained. ‘I don’t remember getting to Summerholt and I’ve been trying to figure out how much memory I lost this time.’
‘All right,’ said Clark. ‘What’s the last thing you remember?’
‘I’m greeting you at the mansion with a joke about a toothbrush,’ he recollected.
‘That was on Thursday,’ Clark concluded. ‘Two days ago.’
Lex sighed, relieved. ‘At least it wasn’t seven weeks. Did I miss anything important?’
Clark paused for a minute. Perhaps it was for the better.
‘Not really,’ he said. ‘Just a sleepwalking session on your balcony. And your bookmark will be on the wrong page.’
It’s better this way, Clark thought. This friendship was too important to jeopardize it with one sentence spoken on an impulse.
Lex nodded and then went silent for a moment, as if pondering something.
‘I have this… recollection I cannot place. I keep thinking it may have been a dream. I’m standing in the rain. I’m cold and soaking wet. It’s like I’m the last man left on Earth. And I hear a voice saying the words: “You mean the world to me”. And, Clark,’ he hesitantly lifted his head and met his gaze, ‘it’s your voice.’
For a moment, Clark didn’t know how to respond. But then he recalled Lex’s desperate plea. Don’t let me forget. What if it was this that he had meant?
‘What would you do if it were true?’ he finally asked with an oddly grave expression. ‘What would you make of it?’
‘What?’ the billionaire asked, too afraid to give faith to the thought that had just occurred to him.
Clark looked at him silently for a moment, hesitating. Don’t let me forget.
‘You didn’t dream it, Lex. I did say those words.’
Lex was taken aback. His lips parted as his head started to spin. ‘Don’t tease me, Clark,’ he laughed uncomfortably, ‘or I could take this the wrong way.’
Clark’s eyes widened as he took a deep breath and swallowed hard. His jaws tightened and for a moment Lex could swear he’d spotted a tint of grief in his eyes.
‘Sorry, Lex, forget it,’ he said struggling to control the trembling in his voice. ‘I did say it, but only as a friend, to make you feel better. You had just relived your brother’s death and were taking it pretty hard. Anyway, I should be heading to bed,’ the farm boy blurted and turned around to leave.
‘Wait!’ Lex reached out frantically and grabbed his forearm. His hand was shaking and his voice was almost at the point of breaking. He paused while his friend slowly turned and looked at him startled and… fearful? Meanwhile, Lex was no longer able to keep the feeble hope at bay.
‘Tell me I’m reading this right,’ he said, his voice reduced to a shy broken whisper, his eyes piercing the farm boy’s, like a child seeing the wonders of the world for the first time.
Clark held his breath, feeling a lump form in his throat. He recalled Lex’s anxious face that morning. He had desperately been trying to tell him something that moment before the stun gun hit him. Now facing his friend’s gaze equally hopeful and aghast, the boy of steel found himself struggling for words. But none would come. So instead, he held the hand that had been clasped around his wrist and pulled Lex into an adamant and affectionate embrace. Almost instantly he felt a pair of arms weave around his back, palms pushing into his body, fingers gripping desperately onto his flannel shirt. The trembling of the billionaire’s shoulders told the farm boy all he needed to know.
‘You are, Lex,’ the boy of steel finally whispered bending over his ear. ‘You’re definitely reading this right.’