Chapter One
Ripped Apart

He knew that Lex wasn't in Metropolis.  He knew the older boy was lying.  But short of going over there, breaking into his house and hunting the young Luthor down, he really had no way to prove it.  And even if he did, what would he do about it?  Even if he had a way to prove it, what would it matter?  Lex wouldn't talk to him until Lex was ready.

"Alright, Mister Clark?"

He wasn't even going to get into the 'mister' business again.

"No, Sam.  No.  Okay.  I mean…  I know he's there.  I know he's mad at me for some reason.  I did something stupid, or…"

I hurt him, maybe.  I hurt him and he thinks I love someone else when all I want is to finally be able to kiss him.

"Or something.  Please, just put him on the phone, okay?  Tell him I threatened to come over there?  Alright?  Tell him that I threatened to hurt someone.  You.  You."

"Mister-"

"Tell him that I threatened to hurt you, or bomb the palace, or whatever."

"The palace, sir?"

"Just put him on the phone."

"I would, sir," continued the old man.  "-but Master Lex is simply not here."

The old man sounded sad for Clark but also like he was growing slightly impatient.  Clark had never seen Sam impatient -- not even with a very, very drunk Lex stumbling through the halls on Clark's shoulders singing showtunes -- and he wondered what it would take to get him there, on the edge.

Sort of where Clark had been days ago.  He was beyond tired of the disappearing act.

"Fine," he said gruffly.  "Then give me a reason why he's not answering his cell."

"It was an emergency, young man, and I know that Master Lex is very busy at the moment.  Now if you don't mind-"

"Then give me a number where I can reach him."

"You're very persistent, but I'm afraid-"

"I want to know what I did wrong!" he shouted, and his mother looked up from her vacuuming.  He looked away and lowered his voice.  "Just tell me, okay?"

There was a moment of silence.  "I'm not sure what you're talking about, Mister Clark, but I can assure you-"

"I miss him," Clark said softly, his eyes watering up a little.  He was thankful that no one was around to see him and hoped that neither of his parents came around to see what the shout was for.  His father was supposed to be working in the fields but…

"He's a friend," he continued.  "And I know he's upset with me and I just need to talk to him.  Please."

Another, longer silence this time and there was a knock on his door.

"I'll see to it that Master Lex gets your message."

So Sam was going to tell Lex.  He sighed in relief, thanked Loomis profusely, then hung up.

"Was that the door, Clark?" his mother shouted over the vacuum.

"Yeah."

"Could you get it?  I'm a little busy here!"

"Sure."

He jogged over to the front door and opened it.

Chloe.

He stood there for a moment and frowned.

She looked worried.  "What's wrong?"

"What?"

"Your eyes.  They're all teary."

"Ammonia," he lied.

She nodded and looked around awkwardly for a minute, most likely expecting to be invited in.  He had no intentions of doing so.  Instead he crossed his arms over his chest, leaned up against the doorjamb, and tried to ignore the hurt in his best friend's eyes.

Ex-best friend, he reminded himself, even though the moment she came to him in need -- if she ever did again -- he would be there for her.  He would still drop everything in the world to be her protector again.  He remembered the moment that he pulled her from the fire in the Torch's old headquarters.  Her in his arms.  She was so small, so fragile.

His heart constricted at the thought of how close he came to losing her.  That couldn't happen again.  He would keep her safe.  He still loved her.  That would never stop.  You didn't get to know someone like Chloe and not love her, even through her stupidities.

Damn it, he thought.  He was already ready to forgive her.  Not so fast.  Make her earn it.

Chloe looked up at him and it was obvious from the look in her eyes that she understood her place.

"How are things going with you and Lex?"

"What do you care?" he snapped.  Immediately, he felt awful.  He'd never treated her like this before.

Yes, but then again, it’s not everyday that you discover that one of your best friends is keeping something from you.  Something they promised to get rid of.  Something very personal that could destroy your life and harm your parents.

Her eyes were watery and if he didn't watch himself, he was going to invite her in for milk and cookies.

"I'm sorry, Clark, really, I…"  She took a deep breath and pulled a purple piece of paper out of her jacket pocket.  She looked at it as she spoke.  "I know you need time, Clark.  Time to even begin to be ready to forgive me for what I did."

Not as much as you'd think.

"I had my reasons.  Stupid and selfish reasons that make absolutely no sense now that I'm standing with you.  Not now."  She looked at him and a tear spilled from one eye.  "Please, call me whenever you need me to apologize, to explain myself or anything."  She held out the folded paper.  "I'd do anything to make you my friend again.  I'd do anything to prove to you and Pete that I'm trustworthy."

He took the note and she started down the steps towards her car.  Just as she reached for the driver's side door, Clark decided that he couldn't leave things as they were.

"Chloe!"

She spun around and looked up at him hopefully.

"I…  I mean, you're not…"  He struggled for the words.  "I don't hate you, you know.  It's not like you're not my friend still.  I'm just mad."

Her grin lit up his heart and unknotted her stomach a little.  "Thank you, Clark."

He nodded and watched as she climbed into her little Echo and drove away.  He opened the note just long enough to see that it was in poem form.  Then his father called him.

"Clark!  Tractor's going whacko again!  Get out here quick and help me, okay!"

"Coming, Dad!"  He shoved the note in his pocket and took off as fast as he could.

+_+_+_+_+

"He was insisting that you weren't in Metropolis."

Lex waded in the deep end of his pool, stopped from doing his laps by Sam's calm threat to throw the radio in if he didn't stop and pay attention.

"And?"

"Master Lex, he insists that you're angry with him because he's done something wrong."

"Ridiculous."  Lex started to swim towards the shallow end.  Done something wrong?  Fell in love with an empty porcelain face, maybe.  With dark, cascading hair and heaving bosoms.

"Then, sir, may I ask: exactly why the pouting?  And the refusal to see anyone?  The week and a half off from work?"

"I had to teach Gabe how to deal without me," he said, climbing out of the pool.  "I'm available for questions, but if he wants to be full-time manager of the plant when we sell it off to the Hardwicks he's going to have to learn."

Lex was particularly proud of that.  His father thought he'd screwed Lex over with him owner the bank and any major buyers.  But there was one person always willing to screw a Luthor, and Lex was loaning some of his left-over inheritance along with his own personal savings to Victoria so that she -- still somewhat wanting to get away from her father -- could buy out the plant.  Getting his money back, plus a percentage of the profits for the next five years was going to be sweet.  And he knew the vixen was good for the money if nothing else.

"I'm going to be moving on," Lex finished.  "Gabe can't call me after that, so he needs to learn now."

"So one excuse is semi-valid.  And the others?"

He sighed and grabbed a towel, wiping his face off first.  None of the other help spoke to him this way.

He grinned.  None of the other help got paid nearly as much as Sam, and none of them had been with Lex through thick and thin either.  "The others?"

Sam sighed.  "Young mister Kent sounded… devastated."

Lex's grin faltered and his heart stuttered.  What right did Clark have to be devastated?  He wasn't the one that had his heart chewed up into a million pieces and spit out with disgust.  He wasn't the one in love with a clueless, mindless zombie.  A zombie in love with the princess stuck in a tower, the one so beautiful from a distance and so perfectly blank from up close.

He was just a little boy who couldn't have what he wanted.

Now who are you talking about?

"I've grown quite fond of Mister Clark-"

"I'm sure you have," said Lex, tying the towel around his waist.

"And though I know it's not nearly as fond as you are of him-"

Lex turned around quickly and glared at Sam.  "It's not like that with Clark."

"Whatever you say, Master Lex."  Sam was headed out of the poolroom.  "The point is, I prefer to see him in the best disposition possible.  I dislike seeing him- either of you troubled."

"It's not what you think, Sam," started Lex, but the old man just walked out of the room without looking back.  "Damn it, Loomis!  I love him!"

He watched for a moment, fearing that Sam would not believe him, would not come back.  That the he would believe Lex just wanted to use Clark, to screw him insane behind some barn or in one of his random, fast cars.

And then Sam was back.  "I guessed as much, sir."  He spoke softly but firmly.  "And my presumption is that what the young man is feeling for you isn't far from what you're feeling for him."

Lex snorted derisively.  "I'd say your usually sterling keen perceptions were off.  He's written a epic poem to his loved one."

Sam nodded.  "I was there as were you."

Lex was startled.  "What?"

Sam smiled and shrugged.  "I was curious as to the contents of my young master's composition."

"Ah.  Well, that was trashed."

Sam just nodded.

Lex felt it necessary to explain himself a bit further.  Loomis knew him better than most, and Lex loved the old man.  There was something that made him family to Lex; family that mattered.  Real family.  Like Lillian, Pamela and, at a distance, Clark.  Sam and he had been through so much…

"I wouldn't touch him, Sam," he said, his voice breaking.  "Not until it was legal.  Not until it was his decision."

"I understand that, sir.  Love is a very different entity than lust.  It's an existence within itself.  An unwitting undertaking of the heart.  I think an old man of my experience can tell the difference, Lex, and I think an old man like myself can spot it."

There was knowing in that voice, such assurance, that Lex almost wanted to believe him.  But he couldn't tear his newly mended heart apart again.  Not so soon after it had just taken a steep fall.  Not ever again.  He was going to get over Clark, and nothing was going to stop him.

"I'm sorry, Sam, but you're mistaken."
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

To be continued...