I'll Go Alone

I need so
*To stay in your arms, see you smile, hold you close * And it weighs on me
As heavy as stone and a bone chilling cold *-Dave Matthews*

"Do you ever get," Lex paused, brow furrowed, "tired?" He was staring intently at the scotch he held in his hand. They were sitting in Lex's office, Lex behind his desk, Clark in a chair across from him.

Clark studied his friend. Lex looked defeated. His jacket was off, his tie loosened and there was something about his posture, the way he was slumped down in his chair that made him look so...lost. They had just returned from Lionel Luthor's funeral. This was the first time since Lex's dad had died that Clark had been able to talk to Lex alone.

Unsure of what to say, Clark cleared his throat. "Do you want me to leave so you can get some rest?" Clark asked gently.

Lex glanced at him, shaking his head slightly. "Not that kind of tired," he made a vague gesture with his scotch glass. Looking frustrated, Lex's voice raised slightly as he spoke and Clark wondered just how much scotch Lex was planning on consuming. "I mean, don't you ever want to just stop? Just stop fighting? Except that you can't because you know that if you stop fighting, even for a second, you'll lose."

"What will you lose Lex?" Clark's voice was soft. It wasn't often that Lex was so candid and Clark was afraid that if he spoke too loudly he would startle Lex out of his open mood. Watching his friend, Clark tried to remain as unobtrusive as possible.

Although Lex had head Clark's soft-spoken question, he continued as if he hadn't. "The problem is that you'll eventually come to a point where that second of peace is worth it, worth losing the fight."

Lex could feel himself approaching that point. He could feel the cold calling to him, soothing and dark, felt it settling into his bones.

"He lied to me, you know." Lex said conversationally, "Not an outright lie; Lionel Luthor wouldn't be caught dead in an outright lie," Lex smirked at his choice of words, "but it was a lie nonetheless."

"How so?" Clark questioned, his voice quiet. Lex didn't look at Clark, he felt like he couldn't move, like he was drowning. But there was no water, just an unbearable coldness embracing him with an icy comfort that Lex was too weary to keep resisting.

Lex was sitting so still, the bleak look in his eyes disconcerting, and Clark wasn't sure what to do to make it go away. Clark wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around his friend and hold him until the look went away.

"He told me that I had to trust my family, that without family I'd truly be alone." Lex's expression showed his mind was a million miles away. "The joke was on me. I've always been alone, I will always be alone."

Clark flashed back to another discussion, Lex's comment; "*some people are meant to be alone*." He hadn't known how to respond then, but he did now. "You aren't alone, Lex."

"Aren't I?" Lex sighed. He looked at Clark, the boy's expression was heartbreakingly earnest. "I'm tired of fighting Clark. Just... tired." Lex wasn't sure he had a heart left to break.

"What are you fighting?" Clark sounded as frustrated as Lex felt.

"Everything," Lex answered, waving his hand in an encompassing gesture, "my name, my image, this town, your father, my nature, my destiny..." Lex paused in his tirade, not sure how Clark would take his next statement. "You know we're destined to be enemies, don't you? That's what will make our friendship legendary, Clark. Love, hate, they're two sides of the same coin. That's the stuff legends are made of." The cold was comfortable now. It numbed the pain; whispered seductive promises of making the pain disappear altogether. Or maybe it was the scotch, but Lex knew he hadn't really had that much to drink.

"Why does it have to be hate?" Clark asked softly, moving toward Lex until he was kneeling in front of him.

"What do you mean?" Lex asked, immediately wary.

"Why does it have to be hate that makes our friendship legendary? Why not the other side of the coin?" He gently took the scotch glass out of Lex's hand and set it on the desk.

"Clark," Lex murmured, fear and hope mixing and Lex wasn't sure he could deal with this right now, not when he was feeling so wonderfully detached, so beautifully numb.

"Don't tell me I don't know what I'm saying, Lex. You don't have to fight alone, I'm here." Clark slowly laced his fingers through Lex's. He felt Lex's grip tighten as a faint, desperate look came to the other man's eyes.

"Can you really promise me that, Clark? Can you promise me that you'll always be there? That I won't have to be alone forever?" Lex sounded angry and skeptical.

Clark regarded his friend for a moment, thinking of Chloe, of abandoning her at the Spring Formal several years ago, how hurt she had been because of it. "I may have to leave sometimes," he said slowly "but I'll always come back, Lex, I can promise you that. You have to believe me."

They always left him. His mother, Pamela, even his father, whom he had loved in spite of everything. He had come to expect it. Now Clark, possibly the only person left that he could love, did love, was kneeling in front of him like a knight pledging his fidelity.

Lex had promised himself that he wouldn't go down that path again, it hurt too much when they left, but Clark promised to return. All that was required of Lex was faith in Clark's ability to keep his word. Lex looked at the promise shining from Clark's eyes and felt the darkness recede. Lex closed his eyes, wondering if he could trust Clark that much. There were still too many lies, too many secrets between them. He opened his eyes, his gaze returning to Clark's...

And Lex believed.

THE END