If Tomorrow Never Comes
By: Arian

Disclaimer: Not mine, don't profit, just like to play

- 1 -

Morning dawned on Gotham City grey and foggy, winter was just around the corner now. Inside Wayne manor, Bruce Wayne curled his body against the warmth of the man sleeping next to him, not willing to wake up and face the day just yet. There had been a time when sleep eluded him, when waking up meant rising at once and facing the day at hand. Now there were lazy Sunday mornings with Clark Kent in his bed and a fire roaring in the massive stone fireplace across the room.

Clark stirred against him and burrowed further under the covers. "You 'wake yet?" he mumbled sleepily, his voice muffled by the heavy duvet.

Bruce stroked a hand across his abdomen and flicked the covers back enough to press a kiss to the mop of ebony curls on Clark's head. "I'm happy to go back to sleep if you want."

"No, that's alright." The mass that was Clark's muscular frame shifted under the covers and turned, sliding upwards until they were face to face. "I'm awake now." He lifted a hand to run through Bruce's soft, brown hair before resting it at the back of his neck. This, he thought, is the Bruce Wayne that no one but me gets to see.

"If you’re awake, then let's get going. I've got plans for us today."

"What kind of plans?" Clark let his hand slide from Bruce's neck to his chest, running his fingers across an already peaking nipple.

Bruce arched ever so slightly into his touch. "That," he said, leaning in to brush a soft kiss across Clark's lips. "Is a surprise. Now go shower."

"Not joining me?"

"If I do, we'll never get out of here."

"And that's a bad thing?"

Bruce chuckled. "No, but I did go to a lot of effort to arrange today for us."

Clark smiled. The rest of the world saw the projected image of rich playboy. The Justice League saw the stoic crime fighter, never anything but serious and analytical. Clark got to witness soft smiles, genuine laughter, gentle touches, and happiness that melted cold, calculating eyes.

"Earth to Clark?" Bruce waved a hand in front of his face. "You still with me?"

"Yeah, I'm still with you." He leaned forward to nip at Bruce's lower lip. "I'll be ready in a few minutes."

Bruce watched him go. Clark's arrival in Metropolis as Superman two years ago had brought the Justice League to the city to investigate. Superman had declined their invitation to join them at first, stating he worked best alone. Bruce, as Batman, had gone back to see him 6 times before Superman had finally stared him down and demanded to know what he really wanted; his help or the chance to control him?

Bruce had respected the question and answered honestly: both. Superman was unstoppable. If he ever lost control or was forced to act against his will, the Justice League wanted to be in a position to prevent disaster.

Superman had advanced on him. "And what, exactly, do you think you can do to control me?" he had demanded.

"We're hoping you'll be able to tell us that."

Superman laughed. "I don't know you. Any of you. What makes you think I would hand you a means to destroy me if you decide you don't like something I'm doing?"

"There is a way, then?"

"I'm invulnerable."

"Except when it comes to?"

Superman stared for a moment, holding Batman's eyes through the holes in his mask. He knew Superman had the ability to see through solid objects, but he wasn't worried. The being before him had a life outside fighting crime, just as he did. He felt confident that even if the man peaked at his face, his identity would always be safe. And that's when it struck him.

"You know," he began. "We don't generally share our identities with perfect strangers. But in this case," and here he reached up to remove his cowl. "In this case, I'm willing to make an exception. I can't expect you to trust me without offering you the same."

"Bruce Wayne."

"In the flesh."

"Alright. I'll join your league."

Bruce smiled and lifted the cowl back over his head. "Come on, I'll introduce you to the others."

"Batman?"

"Yes?"

"Your secret is safe with me."

"I know."

* * *

"How?"

"I have connections."

Clark laughed. "And money."

"An appropriate donation was made."

"Bruce, the exhibit only opened Friday. I don't think I want to know the definition of an appropriate donation here. Thank you."

Bruce wrapped an arm around Clark's waist, pulling him in for a chaste kiss. "No, you probably don't. You're welcome," he said, pulling back and letting his hand slide down to grasp Clark's. "Come on, donation or not we only have two hours." Clark grinned and tugged Bruce through the doors of the planetarium and made straight for the "Superheros of the Stars" exhibit.

Working their way through Koriand'r and the Tamaraneans, Green Lantern and the Daxamites, and more, they finally arrived at the exhibit on Superman and the Kryptonians. Clark's excited pace settled as his eyes fell on the digital simulation of the city of Kandor. Bruce drew up beside him and stood quietly as Clark took in the image before him.

"I knew they were doing this," he said, and even in the stillness of the room Bruce had to strain to hear him. "I gave them all the information I could, but this…"

"Knowing and seeing are two different things," Bruce offered.

"How much time do we have?"

"As much as you want, Clark."

Clark looked at Bruce and smiled gently, and then he was off, pacing the length of the simulation and wandering between information placards spread throughout the room, finally stopping at the image of Krypton's galaxy projected on the far wall. Red sun and a planet whose visage looked so unlike that of the one on which he'd been raised.

A throat cleared politely behind them and Bruce turned to say they would be a few minutes longer when Clark's light touch on his arm stopped him.

"I'm done."

"Mr. Ripley, thank you for your cooperation today. It has been greatly appreciated.

"You're one of our most prominent supporters, Mr. Wayne. I was more than happy to help repay your kindness any way possible."

* * *

Outside the sun had broken through the clouds, and Clark closed his eyes for a moment, letting it soak into his skin. When he opened them again, his glance fell on a figure he had never expected to see in Gotham. A figure he had never expected to see again; someone who, up until that very moment, Clark had been positive was dead.

"Morgan Edge."

"Clark?"

"No, no, he's dead. Edge is dead." Clark started forward but Bruce's arm across his chest stopped him.

"What are you doing, Clark? Edge, if that's even him, knows about your abilities. He's smart enough to protect himself against you, even in Gotham. He's not..." his voice trailed off as he spotted a blonde woman sidle up next to Edge. "A stupid man... Harley Quinn?"

Bruce nearly dragged Clark out of sight and back to his car. Minutes later they were storming into the Bat Cave. Alfred followed a few minutes later and found the two men bent over a computer screen and talking in low, urgent tones.

"Master Bruce, Master Clark? Is everything alright?"

"Harley Quinn paid a visit to a dead man today, Alfred."

"I'm not sure I follow, Master Bruce."

"Morgan Edge has been dead since I was a teenager, Alfred, but today I saw him in the park outside the planetarium."

"And as he was talking to Ms. Quinn," Bruce added grimly. "That means Joker is involved somehow, and that is very, very bad. Edge knows about Clark's abilities. It's easy enough to put two-and-two together when you already have the biggest piece of the puzzle. He can put a face to Superman's true identity."

Clark sank down into a nearby chair, his face paling. "If Joker's involved, it's not hard to assume he'll come after you, Bruce."

"The public isn't aware of our relationship for this very reason, Clark; you know that. Batman has to worry about Joker, not Bruce Wayne. You, on the other hand, we need to protect."

"I can take care of myself, Bruce."

"But you can't take care of the people you love – not all of them, not all at once."

"So what do you suggest?"

"Bring your mother to Metropolis. Have her stay with Chloe and Jimmy. The Ross family can win a trip anywhere you think they might like to go, so long as it's not on this continent. Lex and Lana—"

"The Luthor's can fend for themselves," Clark interrupted. "Besides, we hardly see each other anymore."

"Edge has gone after Lex in the past. What makes you think he won't do it again?"

"He can—"

"Fend for himself, I get it. But he at least needs to be warned."

"Fine."

"Call your mother, Clark. Call Chloe, and Lois, and Lex."

"And tell them what? That I was in Gotham with my boyfriend and spotted someone who died almost a decade ago?"

"You're a reporter, Clark. Tell them you're working on a story." Bruce grinned as Clark flushed slightly.

"At least it won't be a lie. We have to find out what Edge is up to. By any means necessary." He stood and stalked towards the elevator.

"He's been spending far too much time in your presence, sir," Alfred said after the elevator reached the main floor.

"And what makes you say that?"

"He storms out of a room exactly the way you do, Master Bruce." Alfred turned and summoned the elevator back down. "Lunch will be ready in twenty minutes," he called as the sound of amused chuckling followed him upstairs.

* * *

The sun had been down for two hours when Bruce joined Clark outside. They had long ago decided that black was a far better option than the bright colours of Superman's costume when it came to traveling between Metropolis and Gotham. With his dark hair and dark clothes, Clark almost faded into the night.

"See you next weekend?" he asked, coming up behind Clark and wrapping his arms around him.

"Sooner if I find anything."

"It'd be safer to call, you know. I do have a secure line."

"Calling means I don't get to see you," he murmured, leaning back into Bruce's embrace. He turned after a moment to kiss him. "I should get going. Check on my mom. I'll see you soon."

"Clark?" He stopped and faced him again. "I love you." Even in the pitch black of the night Bruce could see Clark grin.

"I love you, too." He leaned in to kiss Bruce again and then he was gone.

* * *

It was 3 a.m. on Friday before Clark stumbled from the shower and crawled into bed. There had been a fire in Suicide Slums that had spread over two city blocks. He'd been dealing with a bridge collapse in the UK when it started, and by the time he was able to get there, the damage was already extensive and the fire had claimed nearly two dozen lives. Eight hours later the fire was out, the injured were being treated, and the dead had been pulled from the rubble. All Clark wanted to do now was sleep.

He hadn't been in bed more than twenty minutes when the pounding on his door started.

"Smallville! Open the door! It's an emergency." Lois's voice rang through the stillness of the apartment, and Clark winced at the thought of what his neighbours would say the next time he saw them.

Chloe's much softer voice reached his ears. "Lois, I have a key. You don't need to wake the whole building."

Clark sat up and pulled the covers to his waist. It had been a long time since he'd felt this tired, and getting out of bed to meet them wasn't high on his list of priorities. Besides, Lois had a tendency to be overly dramatic.

"Clark? You awake?" Chloe poked her head in just as Clark reached over to flick on the bedside lamp. "Oh, thank god."

"What's going on?" he asked as Oliver, Jimmy, and Lois followed her into his bedroom.

"Morgan Edge is alive, Smallville, and he's gunning for you apparently."

"I know."

"Wait, you know and you didn't tell me? Smallville! We're supposed to be partners!"

"Lois, Edge is dangerous. I didn't want to get you involved."

"Well, we're all involved now. Edge was kind enough to leave a message with me to pass on to you. At least, I think it's for you. Since when do you go by Kal?"

"What did he say?" he asked, ignoring her question.

Lois pulled a tape recorder from her purse and clicked play. "Ms. Lane, I'm hoping you'll be kind enough to pass a message along to your partner. Tell Kal that Edge says hello, and that I'm looking forward to..." Edge's voice trailed off for a moment. "Reliving old times."

"What the hell is that about?"

"Clark," Oliver spoke up. "Edge is dangerous. We need to get you out of here, now."

"I can take care of myself, guys."

"Are you sure about that, Clark?" Chloe's eyes were wide and they all but screamed at him, 'Edge knows your secret!'

"I'm—"

Clark whipped his head towards the window as the sound of three hollow thunks reached his ears, followed swiftly by breaking glass as the bedroom window imploded and two long, sickly-green spikes forced their way through his chest and the third into his stomach.

"Clark!" He could hear Chloe shouting his name as he stared down at the glowing spikes protruding from his body. Already his veins were twisting, raising, turning green and suddenly he realized he was screaming. Oliver pulled him to the floor, yelling at Jimmy to grab his arm.

Another voice could be heard over the shouts and screams, and suddenly Lex was in the doorway, one arm clutched tightly against his chest and blood staining the right shoulder of his suit and shirt.

"My car's downstairs. Move!" he shouted.

Clark barely registered Oliver and Jimmy as they lifted and carried him from the apartment and down to Lex's waiting limo. He didn't notice as more two more spikes were fired in their direction, narrowly missing them as everyone piled into the vehicle. All he could focus on was the increasing difficulty he had breathing and the agony caused by the kryptonite embedded in his body.

Lois and Jimmy were uncharacteristically silent, staring at the glowing, green material and then at each other. Chloe was on the floor, leaning over Clark and stroking his hair, whispering to him to hold on. Lex and Oliver were leaning over him as well, studying his wounds and debating whether it would hurt him more to pull them out now or wait until they reached Cadmus Labs.

"Oliver..." The two men didn't seem to hear him. "Oliver," he said, struggling to speak.

"Guys!" Chloe's shout silenced them.

"Oliver, call Bruce, please." That was the last thing he said before his eyes slipped shut and he let the darkness take him.

* * *

Chloe had managed to avoid being alone with Lois during the nearly six hours they had been waiting for news from Lex's medical team. Now, however, Chloe was cornered and there was nothing to be done about it. She watched as Lois bore down on her, backing her into the corner until the wall stopped her movements. Standing with her hands on her hips and her head tilted to the right, Lois spoke.

"Something you want to fill me in on, Chlo?"

"No?"

"You knew, didn’t you? All this time, and you didn't tell me!"

"Lois—"

"Those spikes were made of kryptonite, Chloe, and they were glowing! There's only one person I know of that makes that stuff glow, and it's Superman."

Chloe looked over Lois's shoulder, eyes pleading with Jimmy to rescue her.

"Lois, it's not like it was her place to tell," he said, stepping forward.

"That doesn't matter! This is Smallville we're talking about! I've seen him naked! Slept in the same bed he and Lana used to get it on in! Lived in his house! Worked for his mother! Worked with him! What made me not good enough to let in on the secret?"

"You've seen him naked?"

"Jimmy! Focus!"

"Lois," Oliver's voice overrode hers as he walked up behind them. "Let your cousin out of the corner. Lex has news."

"We're not done yet, Chloe."

"I'd be shocked if we were, Lo," she said with a brief grin. "Come on."

Oliver led them to a room with a large window spanning one wall. On the other side of the glass, Clark was lying in a hospital-style bed. Eyes closed, face pale, and attached to all manner of machinery; he looked half dead. Martha Kent sat by his side.

"It was close," Lex began once they were all assembled. "The damage to his lungs is extensive, and my doctors have put him on a respirator. One of the spikes missed his heart by less than an inch. There's still kryptonite in his system, and it's damaging his internal organs as it travels throughout his body. Short of killing him to neutralize it – which has worked once before, but poses the distinct possibility of not being able to bring him back given his condition – the only thing we can do is wait, watch him closely, and let his body expel it naturally."

A deep voice spoke up from the doorway. "My resources are at your disposal, Lex. I have a thorough workup of his physiology that I trust your team will find valuable."

"Bruce, I wasn't aware you and Clark knew each other well enough to warrant a bedside visit."

Bruce stepped into the room, a dark, imposing figure with his hands clasped behind his back, accentuating the width of his shoulders and musculature as it pulled his black sweater tight across his chest. "We've been acquainted for some time now, Lex. I'm surprised Oliver didn't tell you."

"Sorry Bruce, I was trying to keep Lois from trapping Chloe in a corner."

"I trust Ms. Lane and," he turned dark eyes to take in Jimmy, who was standing with a slightly awestruck expression just behind Chloe. "Mr. Olsen are now aware of Clark's identity?"

"If you're talking about my partner keeping a giant secret from me for years," Lois interjected, hands moving to rest on her hips in a typical Defensive Lois stance. "Then yes, I'm aware that Smallville's been prancing around in spandex and hiding it from me."

Chloe laughed. She couldn't help it. "Lois, you've had it bad for Superman since about two seconds after he appeared on the scene. You're just mad that it's Clark you've been crushing on all this time."

Silence reigned before a startled chuckle erupted from Lex, followed swiftly by laughter from everyone else in the room but Bruce, who watched them silently, and Lois, who stood glowering.

"Are you guys done?" she asked.

Chloe nodded. "Sorry, Lo, but something had to break the tension before our heads imploded."

Lex turned to Bruce. "I'd appreciate that information. Anything we can get at this point is vital." With a terse nod, Bruce backed into the hallway and flipped open his cell phone.

- 2 -

Oliver looked on with shadowed amusement. He could see Chloe and Lois eyeing Bruce in a way he was sure they thought was inconspicuous. Bruce, for his part, ignored them completely as he leaned stiffly against the wall in the corner of the room. His gaze turned to Lex, who was poring over the information Alfred had sent over and seemed to be ignoring everyone – even the doctor currently changing the dressings on the bullet wound in his shoulder. From what the group had been able to piece together, Edge had attacked Lex first. After ensuring Lana's safety, Lex had made his way to Clark's apartment. The rest they all knew.

Except for Bruce Wayne's connection to Clark. Oliver knew of the Justice League connection, of course, but he wasn't aware the two knew each other well enough that Clark would – in the midst of almost dying – request the man's presence. Oliver filed the thought away for a later time, because suddenly things had gotten a whole lot more interesting.

* * *

"Lex?"

Lex looked up at the sound of his name, cursing softly under his breath. "Lana, what are you doing here? It's too dangerous for you to be out in public right now." He stood, hoping to usher her back into the hallway before she could see Clark or Martha through the glass.

"What's going on? What's everyone doing here?"

He could hear the silent 'everyone but me' in her voice. "Lana, let's go get some coffee." Lex started towards her, but she stepped further into the room. It was so faint he could have pretended he didn't hear it; the tiny gasp of Clark's name as she caught sight of him. When she turned wide, pleading eyes in his direction, he sighed and gestured for her to take a seat with Chloe, Lois, and Jimmy.

"This isn't any of her business," Bruce turned, his expression cold and closed, to face Lex and Lana.

"I wasn't aware you'd suddenly become Clark's keeper, Bruce."

The darker man stalked forward, leaning in close to speak quietly into Lex's ear. "You're not his keeper either, Lex. You hardly ever talk to the man anymore. What makes you think that you have the right to govern his life?"

Bruce returned to his corner and continued to watch the sleeping man on the other side of the glass.

"Clark and I were attacked, Lana. Unfortunately, Clark got the worst of it, and I wasn't able to warn him in time." Bruce cut a scathing look in his direction.

"Will he be alright?"

"My team thinks so, yes." Lex could see it in her eyes; she knew he was withholding information. Before she could push, he continued. "He was shot three times, but we got him here quickly enough."

"Why not take him to a hospital?" She was probing, looking for information he wasn't willing or able to share with her.

"Too dangerous, too public, too easy for someone to try and finish what they started. I have a competent medical team in place here and the benefit of a closed facility with excellent security. Lana, I need you to trust that I'm doing what's best for everyone's safety."

Her eyes flickered back to the other room. "I do," she whispered.

Lex turned cold eyes back to Bruce's still figure.

* * *

"Bruce, what am I missing here?" Oliver spoke in hushed tones as the two men made their way out of Cadmus Labs.

"Not sure I follow you, Oliver."

"You got a little bit, well, scary, in there, man. It's been a while since I've seen you go all 'dark protector' on anyone who wasn't one of the bad guys."

"You're saying Lex Luthor is one of the good guys?"

"His business practices may not be entirely spotless all the time, but he sure as hell has cleaned up his act."

"He's dangerous, and we both know that. His wife doesn't need to know any more about Clark than she already suspects. Inside that pretty head, she's harboring the mind of a Luthor. You don't spend that much time with Lex—"

"Is this about Lex or about Clark?"

Dark eyes cut in Oliver's direction briefly. "What do you mean?"

"You know Lex has researched meteor freaks in the past. Is it that you don't want him near Clark? You're worried about what kind of information he's compiling?"

"I wouldn't have offered him my data if I were worried about that."

"Then what?"

"Your car is here."

"Bruce."

"The others are waiting."

Oliver sighed quietly and slid into the vehicle while Bruce headed back inside the building.

* * *

"How is he?" Diana asked.

"Lex's medical team has him stabilized," Oliver said. "It's just a matter of waiting for him to wake up now. Bruce is there now; he says he doesn't trust Luthor's security team. What have we got?"

"Harley Quinn was spotted in Metropolis this morning. Victor is tracking her."

"Has anyone actually seen the Joker, yet?" Oliver asked.

"No," J'Onn spoke up from the doorway. "But Edge was spotted by the docks less than ten minutes ago."

"Right, I'm on it. Bart, A.C., you're with me. Let's go boys."

* * *

Chloe was bursting to question Bruce about how he knew Clark. She knew he had picked up on the glances she kept flicking in his direction and seemed to be doing his best to avoid eye contact with her. Instead, his gaze had been focused entirely on Clark or at the wall just above Clark's head for the last three hours. There was no tactful way to broach the subject, though. Especially since she suspected she knew exactly how Bruce and Clark knew each other.

"So, Wayne, how do you and Smallville know each other?" Lois asked, moving to stand in front of him with her arms folded across her chest.

Bruce regarded her coldly for a moment. "We met just after Clark started at the Planet. He was in Gotham covering the Wayne Enterprise Annual Charity Auction."

"And just how did the Metropolis reporter come to reveal his biggest secret to the rich play boy he just met, when he didn't even see fit to tell his partner?"

"I can't account for Clark's decision-making processes." Lois glared at him. "I suggest dropping the subject, Ms. Lane. I don't intend to discuss my personal life with you."

Lois sighed. "Well, he does have a knack for befriending billionaires."

"Lois!"

"What, Chlo? It's true. Between Ollie, Luthor, and Wayne, Smallville's one of the most well-connected people in this city. And he never uses it to his advantage! I don't get it."

"He has morals, Ms. Lane. Unlike others I've encountered in his profession."

Lois arched an eyebrow. "Mr. Wayne, would you be implying something about my moral character?"

"Stop it." All eyes turned towards Martha. "Questioning one another's character isn't going to accomplish anything. If you can't play nice, leave the room. Clark doesn't need to wake up to hear your bickering."

"Sorry Mrs. K." Lois backed away from Bruce looking properly chastised.

Bruce had even opened his mouth to apologize when his cell phone ringing cut him off. "Excuse me," he murmured, heading out of the room.

"Alfred?"

"The building is yours, sir. I've arranged for a meeting with the contractor in one hour. You're to meet him at Master Clark's apartment."

"Thank you."

"How is he?"

"We're waiting for him to wake up," Bruce lowered his voice and paced a few feet away from Clark's door. "He should be alright. It... He..."

Alfred filled the silence. "How are you, Master Bruce?"

Lex and Lana appeared at the end of the hallway. "Fine," he said briskly. "One hour, you said?"

"Yes. Take care of yourself, sir."

"Thank you, Alfred." Bruce disconnected as Lex and Lana drew even with him. Lex continued into Clark's room alone.

"Mr. Wayne, I can assure that Clark's secrets are safe with me," Lana said softly. "I've known he's different for many years, and I've done what I could to protect him." Placing her hand on his arm, she nodded at an open door down the hallway. "Please, can we talk?"

"I only have a few minutes."

"I won't take up more than that." Bruce allowed himself to be led into an empty office.

"I know that Clark is Superman, Mr. Wayne, and I know you're aware of that fact as well. It wasn't hard for anyone who really knows Clark to figure it out." The emphasis on the word "knows" told him that she was referring to knowing him on more than just a day-to-day basis, like the way his colleagues did.

"I appreciate your candidness, Mrs. Luthor-"

"Lana."

"Lana," he conceded. "Clark is," he sighed, unsure of how to go forward. He'd never felt quite this out of control before.

"Clark is very important to you," Lana finished for him. "I can see that." She smiled gently and Bruce's almost helpless expression. "But that's no one else's business, and I'm not one for spreading gossip."

Bruce studied her closely for a moment; he'd underestimated her and made assumptions based on her public image. That was a mistake he hadn't made in some time, and one he didn't plan to make again if he could help it.

"We should head back in there, Mr. Wayne."

"I have business to take care of, and I'm afraid it can't wait. Lex will have my contact information, should anything arise before I return."

She nodded and left the office. It was on the tip of his tongue to thank her. He shook his head vigorously, as if he could shake away the cobwebs that seemed to have taken up residence in his brain. "Damn it, Clark," he muttered under his breath. "Look what you do to me."

* * *

"Crank up the heat!" Chloe's sudden outburst took the others by surprise. Slowly they had all shifted into silence or hushed conversations, as if the slightest loud noise would somehow damage Clark's recovery.

Martha's face lit up a moment later. "She's right! He'll sweat it out. It's happened before."

Lex snapped orders into his cell phone. "It's going to get hot in here," he said, pulling off his jacket and rolling up the sleeves of the clean shirt he'd changed into. "Don't hesitate to move back into the other room to cool down if it gets to be too much." His instructions were directed mostly and Clark's mother.

Lex, Lana, Martha, Chloe, Lois, and Jimmy watched Clark with anxious eyes as the temperature continued to climb and a sheen of green-tinted sweat appeared on the unconscious man's body.

Two hours later Bruce returned, cursing as he opened the door and walked into a wave of heat. "Sweating it out of him?" he asked Lex.

Lex nodded. He had stripped down to a plain, white t-shirt. "Chloe's idea."

Bruce took in his surroundings. Sweat-dampened hair, neglected shoes and clothing, and a group of people who cared about Clark to one degree or another were spread about the room. There were two almost empty pitchers of ice water on a table by the bed, and an IV line snaking into Clark's arm keeping him hydrated. Clark was still out cold. Something tightened in his chest and he knew he couldn't stand to just sit there.

"Right," he said quickly. "Who wants something frozen and caffeinated?" Armed with a list, Bruce left two minutes later.

Chloe's eyes followed him curiously before moving to catch Lana's gaze. She raised her eyebrows in question, but Lana just shrugged slightly and turned her attention back to Lois and Jimmy, who were concocting stories to cover for Clark's absence from work.

* * *

Two days passed in the same conditions. Martha was the only one who stayed by Clark's side almost constantly, leaving only when Chloe, Lois, or Lana implored her to go cool down or get some sleep. Bruce understood her desire to stay. It was all he could do to force himself to appear detached, to leave Clark at all.

Almost 72 hours after Clark had been hurt, sometime after midnight but not yet creeping up on 1 a.m., Bruce realized could no longer remember why he was still trying to keep their relationship hidden from the others. He wanted nothing more than to sit by Clark and hold on to him, as if holding on would keep him from leaving him.

He'd been sitting in the shadows of Clark's room since Chloe had taken Martha away to rest. The heat no longer fazed him. The only thing that existed in the room for him now was the steady rise and fall of Clark's chest as the respirator pumped air in and out of his lungs.

Without further thought, Bruce rose from his chair and moved to sit in the one usually occupied by Martha Kent. He reached up with a slick hand and grasped Clark's fingers. He pulled Clark's hand up to his mouth and kissed his palm, then lay his head down on the side of the bed and clutched at limp fingers with his own, denying that the raw and gasping breath he now heard came from his own chest.

- 3 -

Lex felt like an interloper as he stood silently in the dark and watched Bruce through the glass. So that's how it is, he thought, his head nodding almost imperceptibly as he watched the man in the other room fall to pieces. He started to turn away, but memories held him in place.

He remembered waking up to find Clark leaning over him, dripping wet and haloed by the sun at his back; expression a mixture of fear, relief, and eventually confusion. He remembered a multitude of shy and teasing looks shared between friends, he remembered the laughter of Saturday afternoons over games of pool or impromptu history lessons.

Lex let his thoughts drift to the days when the secrets and lies began to taint the innocence of friendship. He could still feel the sharp ache in his chest at knowing that his best friend, his first true friend in more years than he cared to consider, was lying to him. It had cut him almost as deeply as the look on Clark's face had when he had seen the room.

Witnessing the man in the other room shatter made him think about what it felt like when he had lost Clark to Lana. The bitterness that curled in his stomach and sat there like a rock until the day he had Lana in his grasp. But Clark's pain hadn't been enough to rid him of that feeling. No, it had only made the sensation of sinking into the depths of the dark places in his mind even stronger.

When Lex hit rock bottom, Lana had pulled him back from the darkness. For the sake of his wife, Lex cleaned up his business and set aside his anger, and he and Clark had formed an almost-friendship again. Until Superman had appeared on the scene.

Lex had known instantly who he was. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together. Only someone who had witnessed enough of Clark's unexplainable feats in Smallville. Clark had started to pull away from him, and eventually they spoke only once in a while and saw each other even less. He understood why, now. Clark had found someone. Between his life as a reporter and his duties as Superman, Clark had managed to find someone to love, and in doing so had erased any chance that he might let Lex love him one day.

"Are you coming home soon, Lex?" Lana asked softly, watching him from the doorway. She did not enter the room, and for that he was glad.

He looked at her and smiled. He did love her very much, and he tried to be a better man for her; he was content with her. Lana had given him the life he suspected he was always supposed to want.

Moving forward, he pulled her to his chest and kissed the top of her head. "Let’s go."

* * *

Sometime before dawn, Bruce woke with a start. He wasn't sure what had woken him until he felt the hand grasped in his own twitch. Clark's eyes were still closed, but even in the dim light of the room Bruce could see his eyes moving rapidly beneath his lids. Another twitch of the fingers resting against his own, and suddenly Clark's eyes flew open.

Bruce immediately tightened his grip on Clark and reached up with his free hand to brush sweat-soaked hair off of Clark’s forehead. Dazed eyes flicked in his direction and Bruce smiled.

"Hey," he said, his voice sounding impossibly loud in the stillness of the room. "You're at Cadmus. I’ll call someone; see if that can be taken out yet, okay?" He gestured at the respirator, and Clark squeezed his hand in response. Bruce leaned forward and pressed his lips against the other man's forehead before standing and moving over to the phone by the door.

As dawn crept over Metropolis, Clark was breathing on his own, the temperature had been turned down just a few degrees, his room had cleared of any medical staff, and Martha and Chloe were sitting by his side. On the other side of the glass Bruce, Lex, Lana, Lois, Oliver, and Jimmy had gathered.

Oliver and Bruce were deep in hushed conversation when Lois broke in. "So, Wayne, are you the new rich best friend or the fellow super hero? Off the record, of course. We're all dying to know."

"Lois, I don't think that's-"

Bruce raised a hand. "It's fine, Oliver. Ms. Lane can ask what she likes. It doesn't mean she'll be getting an answer, however. My relationship with Clark is none of her business."

"And by relationship, you mean?" she prompted.

"I mean precisely what I said. Clark and I have known each other for a few years now. Beyond that, it's of no concern to you."

Oliver did his best not to laugh at Lois's miffed expression as his phone rang. Lois was gearing up to take a strip off the other when he interrupted. "Bruce? We have to go."

Lois actually looked indignant now. "Where?"

Oliver kissed her quickly on the cheek and shrugged apologetically as he followed Bruce out of the room.

"Since when are they all buddy-buddy?" Lois asked the room at large.

* * *

"A.C. and Bart have Harley's location pinned down by the docks. Edge has already been spotted in the area once already, so we're moving in. If we capture her, we can force Joker out into the open and use him to find Edge."

"He'll retaliate publicly before he gives up his location. Both of them."

"We're ready for that."

"Are you prepared for the fact that Edge might just cut and run?"

"We'll find him."

"You seem confident," Bruce said as they pulled up outside Oliver's building.

Oliver grinned in response. "We protect our own, Bruce, you know that. Come on, sooner we get our gear, the sooner we can get on with it."

Victor Stone was pacing the length of the clock face in Oliver's apartment when the two men arrived. "Finally," he said, looking up. "Let's go."

* * *

The gunfire came as a surprise.

Bart's initial sweep of the dockside warehouse had revealed it to be empty with the exception of Harley and a couple of Edge's men. The shots fired in their direction had started within minutes of Oliver, Victor, and Bruce arriving.

"I thought you said the place was clear!" Oliver's voice was deeper, almost distorted while in costume. They were crouched behind a dilapidated building. Half the walls had come down, and the destruction provided them with a suitable cover of brick and mortar.

"It was! Whoever's shooting at us wasn't there ten minutes ago." Bart grimaced as a bullet took a chunk out of what remained of the brick wall about five feet above their heads.

"Aquaman, you had the best vantage point; did you see anyone come in from the water before you moved?"

"No one."

"They probably got in through an underground passage; the sewer system, maybe." Bruce's voice deepened to a near-growl when he was in Batman mode. It was something Clark teased him about when in the presence of the Justice League and begged him to use when they were in bed together.

Oliver didn't flinch as a bullet ricocheted off the building just two feet from his shoulder, but he did throw a weary glance at the bullet's origin. "They obviously know we're here, so what do you say we move this party underground?"

"Sure do miss that x-ray vision," Bart muttered.

"Impulse, can you find the entrance they used?"

"Sure can, Bats." Even through the mask, Bruce's glare was hard to miss. "Alright, alright, I won't call you Bats anymore." Bart rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath as he took off. "Supes got to lose the Boy Scout tag, but I'm still stuck with Impulse. Don't know why Bats gets so upset when I call him that – it's not like I complain about my name!"

"Try turning your communicator off when you do that, Impulse." Oliver's voice came through the device, amused.

"Yeah, yeah. Hey guys? I think I found something. Hang on." Bart zipped into the tunnel he'd discovered, pushing aside the conveniently placed debris partially hiding the entrance. He was back out a second later. "This is definitely it. Head two blocks south, take the alley next to the old distillery on the corner of High and Burton to the end, then make a left behind the building and keep going until it looks like you hit a dead end."

Bart was pacing in front of a now-cleared tunnel entrance when the others arrived a few minutes later. "What took you so long?" he grinned.

"How'd you find this?" Victor looked impressed.

"No challenge is too great for Impulse, amigo." Victor cocked an eyebrow at him. "Ok, it was luck. The alley was just a little too clean for this part of town, so I headed down and wound up finding this."

"Not luck; skill." Bruce interjected. "You noticed the alley's physical condition. What's inside?"

"Two guards at the end of the tunnel, blocking the entrance. I could see others inside. I couldn't get past the guards without them noticing."

"Right," Oliver was all-business now. "Let's move. Silent running from here on out, boys. We're walking into an ambush, and I doubt Edge and the Joker are very far away. Harley Quinn is coming with us, and Joker isn't going to like it."

"She's bait," Bruce agreed. "If we can turn the tables, we can take Edge and the Joker down. For good." He let the implication hang in the air as he headed into the tunnel.

* * *

Taking out the two guards blocking the entrance was easy enough. A simple tranquilizer dart had them tumbling soundlessly to the ground as Bart rushed forward to help break the sound of their fall.

Facing the dozen men waiting in the warehouse proper was another story altogether. Even with Bart there to disarm half of them before the first could get off a shot, and Oliver's bow and arrow taking down two more, the remaining four men had opened fire with a fierce determination to hit anything they could. By the time the last man had been disarmed and incapacitated, sirens could be heard approaching in the distance, Victor was cursing quietly as thick oil leaked from a hole in his shoulder, and A.C. was bleeding from a graze on his left bicep.

The sound of slow, dull clapping above their heads drew their attention. From their scattered points across the warehouse, the men turned and looked up. Morgan Edge stood on a second storey platform, looking down at the battered group of super heroes below him. "I'm impressed. I was certain that with the loss of Superman, you would have fallen in defeat. It appears I underestimated the Justice League; a mistake I won't make a second time."

"There won't be a second time, Edge," Bruce growled, starting forward.

"Ah, ah, ah," Edge warned. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, Batman. Not unless you want to wind up as dead as your comrade. It's a shame, really. The media is right when they spout that sentimental garbage about how the world needs Superman and others like him. It would almost have been worth letting him live to see him flounder in the aftermath of revealing his alternative identity."

Bruce grinned darkly. "He's not dead, Edge. You failed. Give up now and I might let you live."

If the news of Superman's survival rocked him, Edge only let it show by a silent, nervous shift of his weight. "Don't be ridiculous, Batman. We both know you can't let me live. Not when I know Kal's secret. You should be aware that in the event of my injury or death, that information will be released to the public."

Edge twitched when Bruce laughed. "You think that's going to stop me from taking you down? You should talk to your pal, the Joker. Ask him how well I take to threats. Where is your friend, by the way? The sirens are getting closer now. It wouldn't take much to make sure you’re ready for them, all tied up with a bow and everything."

Pulling his expression into a mask of indifference, Edge shrugged. "Until we meet again, gentlemen." And then he was gone. Bart raced after him only to return a moment later shaking his head.

"He's gone. Into thin air. But," he grinned. "Harley and her two bodyguards are still in the building."

"Let's go." Bruce was off and running after Bart.

Harley was making her way back to the tunnel when Bruce took out the guard trailing furthest behind her. The noise drew the attention of the second man, and it wasn't long before he was crumpled on the ground next to his associate.

"Harley." Bruce advanced on her, reaching out to grab an arm when she tried to turn and run. "There’s no point to that. You're coming with us."

"Joker won't like this, Batman. He'll come for me."

"I'm counting on it."

* * *

It was dark and quiet when Clark woke next. There were no clocks or windows in the room, and the building was quiet around him. He vaguely remembered waking once before to find Bruce asleep beside him. It had been dark and quiet then, but a different kind of dark. Pre-dawn, his body had told him; it was late now.

He sighed quietly and winced at the small twinge of pain in his chest. The slight shift of fabric across the room let him know he wasn't alone. "Who’s there?"

"It's Lex. How do you feel?"

Clark paused a moment, evaluating his body. He felt slow and sluggish; still weighted down by sleep. But the pain he'd felt before had retreated to a faint reminder only when he shifted the wrong way or breathed too deeply.

"Clark? You with me still?" Lex approached the bed, shoes tapping against the tiled floor.

"Yeah, sorry. I feel alright, actually. A bit sore, but..."

"But not like you took a chest full of kryptonite a few days ago?"

"Right. How many days is a few?"

"It's coming up on midnight, so almost four days to the hour."

"And Edge? The Joker?"

"Still out there; your friends are working on it. They captured Harley Quinn this morning. The last update I received said she hadn't give up any information yet. That was an hour ago." Lex shifted to sit in the chair beside Clark.

"Joker will retaliate."

"I know. I've been assured the Justice League is prepared for that eventuality."

A small laugh followed by a grunt escaped Clark. "You sound convinced," he said at the same time Lex warned him to take it easy. It took Clark a moment to realize that Lex's hand now grasped his own.

"Without you among their ranks, my faith in the Justice League is greatly diminished." His voice was hushed, and his fingers stroked against the back of Clark's hand once before he let go and settled back into his seat.

"I appreciate the vote of confidence, Lex." He didn't know what else to say. Lex's words, his gesture, had been impossibly soft. Clark hadn't witnessed anything other than polite friendship from him since the day Lana had brought the two of them together again.

Lex debated about saying anything at all for a minute. The silence between them was comfortable for the first time in a long time. In the end, he cut right to the point. "How long have you and Bruce been together?"

Clark's eyes drifted up to look directly at Lex, startled. He opened his mouth to answer.

"Don't," Lex interjected.

"Don't what?"

"Lie to me. This isn't something you need to hide from me, Clark. It's not worth adding another lie to an already impressive litany of them."

He was silent a moment. "Almost two years."

"No one else knows, do they?"

"It's safer that way."

"You can't hide forever, Clark. If you love each other," he paused to draw in a deep breath. "If you love each other, you can't hide in the shadows for the rest of your lives. Is this forever, Clark?" He almost didn't want to know the answer.

"It is. For me, at least." Clark didn't meet the eyes he knew was fixed intently on him. He let his mind drift, and a smile tugged at his lips as he remembered the first time he and Bruce had spent a night together. Bruce had looked confused when he'd woken up in a tangle of limbs the next morning. But then he'd smiled, and Clark had known Bruce understood something had changed for the better in his life.

* * *

Bruce stood just outside of Clark's room, alone in the dimly-lit hallway. The sound of Lex's voice had stopped him from entering, and the conversation itself had frozen him in place. Forever.

The word turned around in his mind, filled him with a desperate desire to stride inside and pull Clark to him, to tell him that it was forever for him to. The thought didn't scare him. He knew that two years ago it would have sent him looking for the next pretty man or woman to occupy his time until once again things got too serious and he moved on once more.

Footsteps at the end of the hall drew his attention and he turned to see Lana approaching. He moved a few feet from the door to meet her with a finger pressed to his lips. He placed a hand on her shoulder and drew her a little further away.

"It's late," he said in a hushed tone.

"I know. Lex is still here, I came to take him home."

"He's talking to Clark. I think we should give them a minute."

Lana looked mildly shocked. "Talking of their own free will? I'm impressed. I think you've been a good influence on him, Bruce."

He chuckled, low and brief. "More like the other way around." He understood that this was something new as well; before he would have been brisk and aloof with this woman. Not anymore.

"You're good for each other," she amended. Almost as an afterthought, she went on. "Lex feels guilty."

"Why?"

"He hasn't come right out and said it – and he won't, either – but I think he feels it's his fault for failing to realize Morgan Edge had gotten away. He's changed his face before. If he isn't caught soon, what's stopping him from doing it again? He knows who Clark is. He's tried to kill Lex before. Edge is too dangerous to be left to run loose."

Bruce watched her closely. There were unshed tears shining in her eyes. "He'll be caught. As will Joker. I promise you that."

"Keep them safe."

"I will." He took her arm and led her back to Clark's room. Bruce stopped with his hand on the door as Lex's voice reached them.

* * *

"I love Lana. I've done everything I can to be a better man for her. But a part of me won't let you go. A part of me still loves you, Clark."

"Lex, we were never—"

"I know. I loved you though. For a long time. When I lost you to Lana..."

"Are you sure you want to go down this road?"

"Lana is everything I've ever thought I was supposed to want in my life, Clark. But she isn't you. I don't know. Maybe I can't get you out of my head because I never had you. I want what I can't have. I took her from you because I couldn’t have you. We were too far down the path of hate for me to ever consider it an option anymore. And then we were friends again."

"Lex."

"Please don't interrupt. I don't know if I'll be able to start again. Our friendship is a shadow. It's an imitation of what it was when we were younger. The part of me that wants you, loves you, screams in frustration every time we're in a room together."

Clark had barely registered Lex's lips against his own before they were already withdrawing.

"Tell me, Clark. Honestly. Is there a chance, no matter how remote? Just give me the truth. Just this once."

"I love Bruce. I'm sorry, Lex. I stopped loving you that way a long time ago."

"Okay. This is the last time I'll say anything. I... I promise."

Clark understood the magnitude of a promise from Lex. "It would have only hurt us more. Back then. We weren't ready for it. And now, now it's just not meant to be. We are where we're supposed to be.

"You love Lana. I know how it feels to love her and let her go, Lex. To still love her while having to watch her be happy with someone else; with you. I pushed her away because I couldn't tell her the truth about myself, not because I didn't love her anymore. Watching her marry you was the hardest thing I'd ever had to do because the one thing I wanted most in the world was to pull her away, hold her, to have her for myself. Don't do that to yourself, to her.

“Things change. It took a long time, but I moved past that. Bruce came into my life, and I realized that he was what I'd been waiting for. He's my future, Lex. Lana is yours."

"I feel like something is missing. Something is always missing. Something outside of my relationship with Lana. I'm always reaching for it, and I can't seem to ever grasp it and hold on."

"I’m not that something, Lex."

Silence for a moment, then an almost silent whisper. "I know." He cleared his throat. "What next, Clark?"

"Next? You go home with your wife, and tomorrow we find a way to take down the bad guys. Lana's waiting for you in the hall."

Lex stiffened slightly, and then his shoulders dropped. "It's nice to not be considered one of the bad guys this time."

Clark smiled and reached to brush his finger tips across the back of the hand Lex rested on the bed. "It's nice to be on the same side again. Go home and sleep. You look exhausted. Send Bruce in on your way out, would you?"

A nod followed by a quiet good night, and Lex was gone.

* * *

"You alright?" Bruce whispered to her.

She smiled. "It's nothing I didn't already know by now. I’m glad he's finally stopped carrying the secret on his own. I figured out why Clark left a long time ago. Lex doesn't think so, but if you know how to read him, he wears his emotions on the outside."

Bruce nodded silently.

Lex exited the room a moment later and smiled tiredly at them. He slid his hands up to the back of Lana's neck and rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes, and sighing gently.

"Ready to go home?" she asked.

"Yes." He pulled back and turned. "Bruce? He asked for you."

Bruce nodded and entered Clark's room, shutting the door behind him.

- 4 -

“Hmm, g’morning,” Clark mumbled, smiling at Bruce as he shifted onto his side to face him.

“Morning. Did you sleep well?” Bruce closed the distance between them and brushed his lips against Clark’s.

“Slept great now that I'm back in my own bed.” He slid closer to Bruce and mouthed a kiss against his jaw. “Even better since I have you in my bed. You?”

Bruce brought a hand up from under the covers to twine in Clark’s hair and pull him flush against his chest. “I always sleep better when you’re with me.” He silenced Clark’s laughter with a kiss pushed him onto his back.

“I noticed a few improvements to my apartment.” Bruce hummed in response and traced a path across the five days worth of stubble on Clark’s face. “How’d you convince the owner to let you rip the place apart?”

“I bought the building.”

Clark laughed. “You bought the building?”

“Had to know you were safe.”

“So how safe am-” Clark gasped as Bruce’s hand slid down to stroke the skin on his inner thigh. “Am I?” he finished.

“Bullet proof windows,” he grabbed onto Clark’s nipple with his teeth and tugged, eliciting a small moan and an upward thrust from the other man. “Titanium lining in the walls, floors, and ceiling. And,” he grinned. “I gave you the open concept living area you’ve been talking about for months and hadn’t done anything about yet.”

Clark laughed and stroked a hand up and down Bruce’s side, tickling lightly and reveling in the feel of the resulting shiver. “I’ve been busy, and you’ve met the old owner. Do you really think he would have let me pull down walls? Keep doing that!”

He sucked another kiss onto the flesh above Clark’s hip bone. “He did strike me as being... difficult to deal with. Until he saw my offer.” His mouth moved over to the other hip.

“Well, I hope,” he broke off with a swift intake of breath. “I hope the new owner’s easier to deal with.”

“I don’t foresee you having any problems with him.” He flicked his eyes up to glance at Clark before leaning forward to take his cock into his mouth.

Clark arched upwards into the heat of Bruce’s mouth. “At least I got my new kitchen out of it,” he managed to choke out.

Bruce pulled back long enough to flash a quick grin. “And your building is now rent-controlled. With utilities included.”

Clark laughed. “You made that much noise?”

Bruce reached for the lube in the bedside table drawer. “I did rip apart the whole interior of your apartment and put it all back together again in less than five days. And I had all the building’s windows replaced. They were old and definitely not weather proof.”

“They all bullet proof?”

“Can’t in good conscience have your neighbours getting hurt if someone tries to come after you again.” He pressed a slicked finger against Clark’s body and pressed forward, sinking in to the first knuckle.

“Mm, no, can’t have that.” His eyes fluttered shut as a second finger joined the first and stroked smoothly in and back out. “Has—oh—has Harley given anything up?”

Bruce bent his body forward over Clark’s and pressed a kiss to his lips. “No more talking about work.”

“So how’s the weather been?”

Bruce laughed as he pulled his fingers out and slicked his cock. “It’s been sunny, which is a nice change from the weather in Gotham.”

Clark’s breath hitched as Bruce pushed slowly into him. “Bruce, please.”

“Please what?”

“Paint my kitchen a different colour?” he said, laughing.

Bruce thrust into his body harder and faster. “What’s wrong with the colour it is now?”

“Nothing. I just want to see you half naked and covered in paint.” He leaned up and pulled Bruce in to kiss him again, licking at his lips until his mouth opened beneath his own.

Bruce’s hand found Clark’s cock and stroked. Clark threw his head back into the pillows and Bruce took advantage of his exposed neck, biting the soft skin just behind his ear. "Clark, I was so scared. So fucking scared."

"I know, I know."

"I can't—oh, that feels good—can't lose you, Clark. I'd fall apart without you."

"You're not going to lose me," he said, hands grasping either side of Bruce's face and forcing him to keep eye contact. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise." He stopped the other man's response with a bruising kiss.

Clark's climax came swiftly, intensely. Bruce kept his pace, watching as his lover came back down, felt his body relax until he was slack beneath him. He wrapped his arms under Clark's and his shoulders, using the leverage to thrust deeper, faster, harder.

Clark smiled, green eyes half closed, and mapped Bruce's body with his hands, brushing his fingers over scars long faded to almost nothing, and finding all the spots he knew Bruce liked to be touched. He drew his legs up, and groaned at the sensation caused by the change in angle.

"You redecorated the living room."

Bruce laughed but didn't falter. "Do you like it?"

"I do. You kept my father's chair."

Bruce kissed him. "Wouldn't dream of-" he paused, breath catching as he dropped his forehead to Clark's chest and moaned. "Removing it," he managed to say before pushing in one last time and pausing as his body shook.

Clark ran a hand through dark, sweaty hair. "Thank you," he murmured.

"Love you so much, Clark." He let himself fall onto the bed, head resting on Clark's chest and one arm draped across his waist.

Clark opened his mouth to respond and froze. Someone was unlocking the door to his apartment. Two people came inside, one pausing to punch in the security code in the new alarm system. He didn't even know the code yet.

"There's someone here."

Bruce sat up, tense and alert. "Who?"

Clark closed his eyes and sighed. "Chloe and Lois," he whispered. "Why do Chloe and Lois know the alarm code and not me?"

Bruce chuckled quietly. "Chloe has a key and her own password. You still need to set yours. Your mother and I are the only other ones who have access. You should put some clothes on and stop Lois from trying to come in here to wake you up."

"Oh no, no way. She's seen me naked enough for one life time." Clark scrambled out of bed and pulled open the top drawer of his dresser, leaving Bruce to lay back and pull the sheets up to his waist while admiring the view.

"Smallville?" Lois called out. Clark's eyes widened comically as he flipped to x-ray vision and saw Lois starting to head down the hall.

"I'll be right out, Lois!" he yelled a little too loudly, hoping she'd stop and go back to the kitchen where Chloe was making coffee.

"Hurry up," she called back as she turned around.

"You'll have to tell me one day just how many times Lois has seen you naked. Not to mention why. I'd like to know if I have to have her killed or not."

Clark glared at him. "This isn't the time to be making jokes," he hissed, pulling on a pair of boxers and heading for the door. "Stay here and be quiet!" He turned the knob and paused, coming back to press a swift kiss against Bruce's amused smile, and then he was gone.

"It's barely 7 a.m., what are you two doing here? Clark asked as he padded barefoot into the kitchen and came to a stop behind Chloe, one hand going to her waist to steady her as she stepped up onto the stool Clark kept in the kitchen for her.

"Perry's demanding you come into work now, or he'll fire you." Chloe pulled three mugs out of the cupboard and set them on the counter. "We all know he's bluffing, but you should probably put in an appearance anyway." She stepped off the stool and turned around, small arms circling his waist and holding on for a moment before letting go.

"You still look pale, and your cheeks are all flushed. Are you alright?"

He shrugged and flashed a smile at her. "I'm fine, promise."

"You know, Smallville, you really should invest in new boxers sometime this decade," Lois said from her spot at the kitchen table.

He leaned back against the counter and glanced down at his faded Met U boxers. "What's wrong with them?" he asked, looking back up.

"You graduated how many years ago?"

"Four."

"Exactly. I think it's time to retire those."

"I like them. They're comfortable."

"Comfortable isn't going to get a woman into your bed, Clark!" She threw her hands up in mock exhaustion. "When was the last time you went on a date? Two years ago? What are you, a monk? With a body like that, Smallville, you should have women throwing themselves at you."

"Women like you, Lois?" Chloe asked, setting coffee down in front of her cousin.

"I can't be held responsible for that. It's not my fault that Superman is sexy, and it's not my fault that Clarkie here, in all his glorious geekdom, happens to be Superman."

Chloe raised a hand, cutting Clark's retort off. "Everybody play nice. Clark, go shower and get dressed. Don't shave; the stubble makes it look like you really have been out sick. Lois, drink your coffee and become a human being so we can get to the office and suffer through Perry's inevitable lecture while there's still some caffeine in our systems."

The mutual mumbling of "fine" was followed by Clark heading back to the bedroom, coffee in hand, while Chloe joined Lois at the table.

Bruce was dozing in bed, the sheet only partially covering his body. Clark leaned over and rubbed his scratchy cheek against Bruce's. "Shower with me?" he asked as brown eyes flicked open and found his gaze.

"Only if you promise to lock the door," Bruce grinned.

"Of course. Wouldn't want Lois or Chloe to wander in and catch us mid blow job, would we?"

"Tease."

"Come on, the coast is clear."

Ten minutes later Clark strode back into the kitchen, freshly washed hair curling around the tips of his ears, glasses in place, wearing black dress pants with a plain grey t-shirt and matching black jacket in hand.

"For someone with super speed, you sure take your time in the shower."

"You didn't give her decaf by accident, did you?" Clark asked, looking at Chloe.

"Very funny Smallville," Lois retorted. "Let's go before Perry has a fit."

* * *

“Would you leave me for him?”

Lex looked up to find Lana standing the doorway of his office the next morning. “What are you talking about?”

“Clark. We overheard you talking last night. I knew. It was something I tried not to dwell on, but I knew. I thought I was alright with hearing you say it out loud, but I’m not, Lex. I need to know. Would you leave me for him if you were given the chance?”

Lex was silent for a moment, just watching her. She’d drawn her shoulders up and held them, tensed, as if waiting for a physical blow. She waited for him to answer, eyes fixed unwaveringly on his. Lana really was everything to him, when he thought about it. She may not have been his first choice, but she was the one who had believed in him when everyone else turned their back and walked away.

“I need you to be honest with me, Lex. Please give me that much at least.”

“Lana.” He rose and came around his desk as she stepped further into the office. “He doesn’t love me, you know that don’t you?” He pulled her into a tight embrace.

“Answer the question,” she whispered.

“I love you.”

“Would you leave me for him?”

“Yes.”

She nodded against his chest, a tear falling down one cheek as she listened to his heart race under her ear. He shifted, titling her head up to meet her eyes.

“It won’t happen. You asked me to be honest, and telling you it won’t happen comes with that. You’re my wife. You’ve made me a better man. I can’t let go of what I feel for him, but it has nothing to do with how I feel about you.”

“Do you really believe one has nothing to do with the other?” She was angry now and trying to hide it.

“I do.”

“Then you’re a fool, Lex.” She pulled out of his embrace.

He moved back to the other side of the desk and sat down, visibly throwing up walls around himself that Lana hadn’t seen in years. He watched her expectantly.

“I love you, Lex, but I can’t be here right now.”

“It’s not safe anywhere else. Not yet.”

“Then I guess you’ll just have to have me followed.” She turned and strode out of his office.

His cell phone rang, and he thought about just not answering it. A glance at the caller ID told him it was his head of security. He grimaced and flipped open the phone.

* * *

Chloe had escaped Perry's office after ten minutes when her cell phone started buzzing and she'd begged off in order to talk to a contact for her current story. Lois and Clark were still in the line of fire 20 minutes later when Lex and what looked like his entire security team burst on to the floor. Lex headed straight for Perry's office after catching a glimpse of Clark through the window.

"Luthor, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Perry roared.

Still ten feet away, Lex spoke. "Clark, you need to come with us right now. Edge is—"

The sound of screaming drew their attention out into the bullpen. Morgan Edge was striding off the elevator surrounded by a mass of armed men. Lex's security detail was already moving to block the office from them when the Joker appeared at Edge's side.

"Now, now, everyone. There's really no cause for panic. We're here for one reason and one reason only." Edge reached the centre of the office and raised his hands as if trying to calm the panicking reporters surrounding him. "As long as you all shut up, sit down, and don't try anything, you'll be fine. If someone would be so kind as to tell me, please, where is Clark Kent?"

Clark rose from the couch in Perry’s office and strode towards the door. Lois stopped him halfway. “I don’t know about you, Smallville, but I’m not in the mood to get my head blown off today.”

“I’m not going to let him hurt anyone, Lois.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to let him hurt you, either, Kent,” Perry spoke up.

“Ah, Mr. Kent, there you are.” Edge had appeared in the office doorway. Clark tried his best not to flinch when he felt the presence of kryptonite, but failed. Edge turned back to the bullpen for a moment. “Lex, why don’t you join us?”

Lex was ushered into the office by two of Edge’s men; he reached back to shut the door behind them. He closed the blinds, cutting off the sight of his security detail and their standoff with the Joker and the remaining attackers. It wouldn’t do to let them know what was happening when he killed their boss.

Edge raised an eyebrow at him. “I like my privacy,” Lex shrugged. “It’s been a long time, Morgan. I was assured that you were dead.”

“I was, for a time. But that’s not what we’re here to discuss, now is it? It seems that the Justice League has taken what is not theirs, and that has angered my business partner. Trust me when I tell you that angering him is not something you want to do.” He paused and looked thoughtfully at Perry. “Mr. White, have a seat. You might as well stay for the show.”

“Let’s not play games, Morgan. We’re all adults here. Tell me what you want and I’ll make it happen.” Lex looked dangerously calm.

“Lex, my boy, you know what I want; Harley Quinn’s release and the death of Superman.” He turned to face Clark. “It seems my initial attack wasn’t quite enough to take down the man of steel, was it, Kal?”

Clark glared in response.

“Now, I assume we don’t have much time before the Justice League arrives, so let’s get down to business. Arrange for the girl to be released and I’ll make sure his death is quick and painless."

"What makes you think I have the power to do that?"

"You're the most powerful man in Metropolis, Lex."

"I'm not going to just hand him over to you."

Edge laughed and turned quickly to face Clark, pulling a gun from his shoulder holster and firing off a shot before anyone, even Clark, could react. The kryptonite bullet slammed into Clark's thigh and lodged in his femur. The pain was bright and instantaneous, flooding from his leg through the rest of his body before he had wholly registered the shot in the first place.

"Yes, Lex, I think you are. Otherwise Kal and I are going to have a little fun right here, for everyone else to see."

Outside the office people were screaming. Smoke was starting to stream in under the door. Edge and his men pulled masks over their mouths and noses as the others in the room began to choke.

"That's our cue to vacate the premises. Lex, think about my offer. It's only good until we reach the elevators." He jerked his head towards Clark. "Grab him, and let's go."

Lois launched herself off the couch and onto Edge's back, arms coming around his neck and tightening, legs gripping his side to keep from being thrown off. "I don't think so," she growled.

Lex and Perry launched themselves into the fray, but Perry was pushed to the ground when Edge managed to shake Lois off and send her flying into him. Lex took out one of the black-clad attackers before a blow to the back of his head from the other took him down to his knees. Edge and the remaining man grabbed Clark and pulled the panting, struggling man towards the door.

"Morgan!" Lex shouted from the floor.

"I'm not done with you yet, Lex. Don't make me kill you now." He opened the door and passed Clark's semi-conscious form off to those waiting outside. "Her too," he shouted to the men, and Lois was picked up off the ground, kicking and clawing until one of them drove the butt of his gun into the back of her head.

"No, Morgan, you're definitely done." The first bullet from Lex's gun caught him in the neck, the second in the shoulder, and the third through the heart. Edge tumbled to the ground, falling partially on top of Perry. His men left him behind as they dragged a now unconscious Clark and Lois through the mass of panicked people.

"Kent," he choked. Perry leaned down, the only one close enough to hear him. "Kent is Superman. Tell," he coughed, blood and spittle marring the once transparent material of the mask. "Tell them all." He fell back, eyes blank, wide, staring. Dead.

- 5 -

The building had been evacuated and the smoke was finally clearing. Outside the Daily Planet, people were gathered in the street and paramedics were working on those who had been affected by the gas; an irritant that left people with bloodshot, swollen eyes and sore throats. It could have been worse, was the first thought in many minds.

Lex had shaken off the medic as soon as he could and made his way swiftly towards the gathered members of the Justice League. “He’s got Clark and Lois Lane. My men weren’t able to track them to a specific location; they lost them soon after they entered Suicide Slums. It’s a place to start, though. Clark’s injured. I think Lois was unconscious when they left.” Lex quickly relayed the rest of the incident.

Batman nodded curtly and started issuing direction to the League, ignoring Lex until he grabbed his arm and pulled him around. “What, Luthor?” he snapped.

“You’re not leaving me out of this.”

“It’s a matter for the Justice League to handle now.”

“I’m helping.”

“You’ll get in the way, slow us down.”

“Let him help,” Green Arrow spoke up. “He has resources we can use, and he’s already got an idea of where Clark and Lois might be.”

Batman regarded him silently before turning back to Lex. “Fine. Impulse, Cyborg, stay here and make sure things are under control. Green Arrow, J’Onn, Lex, you’re with me. Aquaman, Wonder Woman, you set up base. Let’s move.”

* * *

“Come on Smallville, wake up,” Lois muttered, stretching her leg out and trying to jostle Clark’s prone body; he was just a couple inches outside her reach. She strained against the chains holding her against the wall, pulling until her shoulders ached in an effort to gain the extra distance. “Wake up Clark!” she shouted as her heel finally slammed into his shoulder once, then twice.

“I swear to God, Smallville, if you die and leave me alone in this place, I will never forgive you!” She landed another kick to his shoulder, this time wrenching a muffled groan out of him in response.

“Stop it,” he finally muttered.

“Not until you wake up.”

“Am awake.”

“No you aren’t. You’re half conscious and bleeding all over the place. I need you to wake up and do something about it.”

“Can’t. Hurts.”

Lois sighed. “I’m chained to the wall, it’s not like I can do any of this myself.” She kicked him again, and this time his head jerked off the floor a few inches and he drew in a long, shaky breath.

“Get over here.”

“Easier said than done.” He tried to move into a sitting position and was forced back to the ground as the haze slipped away and the full force of the pain in his leg hit him. “Where are we?” he asked, pulling himself slowly towards her.

Lois shifted to sit cross-legged and watched as he made his way closer, dragging his injured leg behind him. “I don’t know, I woke up a few minutes ago. We’re in a room, cement walls and floor, no windows, and a metal door opposite us.”

Clark stopped a few inches from her, panting. “Any idea how long we’ve been here?”

“No idea. But your friends had better find us soon, because the ground is dirty and cold and these are nice pants.” She looked at him. In the glaring light of the single bulb above them, he looked pale and drawn. His chest was heaving, and he was shivering.

Lois sighed. “Come here; put your head in my lap.”

He laughed, breathless. “Are you hitting on me, Lois?”

“No, I’m just offering you a warm place to put your head.” She rolled her eyes when he snorted. “Shut up, Clark, I’m serious. Get your head off the floor; it’s freezing.”

* * *

There was no way Lois could mark the passage of time before the door to the room swung open again, but it felt like days. Clark had been growing steadily worse. His attempts to joke with her had trailed off after a while, his body shook almost uncontrollably, and he was having difficulty breathing. His wound had stopped bleeding, and he had lost consciousness during the time Lois slept.

“Well, well, well. Isn’t this a heart-warming scene! Poor little injured Superman taking comfort in the arms of the esteemed Lois Lane. Wonder what your boyfriend would say, Lois.” The Joker stood grinning at them from the doorway.

“What the hell do you want?”

“Many things, Lois. But right now? I just want him to die.”

“Why?”

“Why not? He’s annoying. And too bright. I like colour as much as the next guy, but come on! Bright red and blue? He’s an eyesore.”

“You don’t want him dead for his horrible fashion sense, Joker.”

“But it’s such an amusing reason.” He rolled his eyes when Lois glared at him. “Fine! Take away my fun. He’s stopping me from getting what I really want.” He stepped into the room and knelt beside Lois, leaning in close to whisper in her ear. “With him gone, the Justice League has lost their greatest asset. Which leaves me wide open to kill my arch nemesis.”

“So much for wanting your precious Harley returned to you. You’re doing this to get to Batman? You’re crazier than they say you are.” That was apparently the wrong thing to say, she decided, as the Joker backhanded her. “What are you going to do with no one left to fight? You know the only reason you haven’t been killed is because he won’t let that happen. You kill him, you kill yourself.” She almost flinched, anticipating another blow. There was nothing.

“Lois, Lois, Lois.” He stood again and moved away to pace the short length of the room. “You underestimate me. Once big blue and the bat are out of the way, the rest of my plan will fall into place and the Justice League will fall.”

“What are you talking about? What do you mean, they’ll fall?”

“I’d ruin the surprise if I told you. Oh wait, I plan to kill you.” He grinned. “I suppose it can’t hurt to tell a dead woman how the world is going to bow to me, seeing as how you won’t be around to see it happen. But that’s a story for tomorrow.” And then he was gone.

“Clark?” Lois whispered. “I’d really love it if you woke up and kicked some ass.” She watched him pull in a shallow, rasping breath, hold it a moment, and breathe back out. His shirt had hitched up to expose his hip and part of his stomach, and she cringed at the web of green, writhing veins slowly spreading further up his body.

“It would be really great if one of your friends would rescue us now,” she sighed.

* * *

He was panicking. He never panicked. It had been almost three days, and they hadn't found anything new. He had slammed Lex into the wall after the man had snapped at him about how they were wasting time talking when they should be out looking for Clark. He’d been in costume at the time and had nearly screamed at Lex that Clark was his boyfriend, and he was well aware of the fact that time was slipping away. But he hadn’t. He’d kept it inside and stormed from the room after Oliver pulled him off the other man.

Now he was pacing the length of Clark’s living room, muttering to himself, and trying not to put his fist through the wall. His cell phone rang.

“What?” he snapped.

“We have a location.” Oliver said. “You’ll be picked up in two minutes.” Then he was gone.

Bruce raced down the stairs and out the front doors of Clark’s building, waiting impatiently for his ride to pull up at the curb. He climbed inside the car before it came to a full stop, nodded tersely to A.C., and listened in silence while he filled him in.

* * *

“Time to wake up!” A voice called. Lois shifted slightly against her bonds, not quite awake yet. “Now, Lois, you don’t want to make me mad! I said it’s time to wake up.”

The water was ice cold as it splashed into her face and drenched her clothes. Clark jerked in her lap, the first movement she’d seen from him since he’d lost consciousness. He coughed and shuddered while the Joker stood over them and laughed as he set the empty bucket down.

"How nice of you to rejoin us, Superman! Or should I call you Clark, in the absence of the costume. You know, I didn't expect you to survive this long. I think I'm actually impressed. It's not often I'm impressed, Clark."

"Let her go." Clark tried not to think about how weak his voice sounded to his own ears.

"Why would I want to do that?"

"You have me; you don't need her. It's not like she's a threat. The League already knows who took us. You're going down either way."

The Joker knelt at Clark's side, grabbing his chin and twisting his head to face him. "But Clark," he whispered. "I enjoy killing people."

Lois screamed when the bullet tore through the soft flesh of her upper arm. Neither had seen him pull the gun from behind his back.

Clark struggled to push himself up, crying out angrily when his efforts landed him back in Lois's lap. Lois remained silent save for her harsh breathing.

"You see, Clark, you are only the beginning! The means by which I will take down Batman, and with his death, the rest of the Justice League will follow."

Clark laughed while his heart pounded in his chest. "You can't take out Batman. You've tried a hundred times before and failed. What makes you think this time will be any different?"

"I'm killing you, aren't I? The mighty Superman is lying on a cold floor, covered in blood and piss and dirt, almost dead. I've done what others have tried and failed to do. I've rid the world of a too-bright flying freak and opened up endless opportunities to bring the world to its knees before me."

"You weren't smart enough to do it on your own," Lois seethed.

"Morgan Edge was a useful distraction."

"Was?"

"Oh yes, you were both unconscious, weren't you? Edge is dead. Lex Luthor killed him." He resumed his pacing. "But that doesn't matter! He wasn't exactly stable, if you know what I mean."

Lois snorted, hiding her wince of pain. "Look who's talking."

"Now Lois, you don't want to anger me. Otherwise I might wake Morgan the third and let him out to play, and you won't like that. Not at all."

"Morgan the third?" Clark's vision was spotting, and he struggled to focus on the Joker, to stay awake.

"Oh yes. Lex killed a clone. I have three more just like him at my disposal. Of course, they all have a few upgrades, some features that the original lacked. Features that were quite useful to us. All it took was a little bit of Kryptonite, and a little bit of your blood, Clark. Which," he stopped pacing and turned to grin darkly at his captives. "Was not an easy thing to come by, I'm told. But the people behind Edge's resurrection were very diligent in their efforts."

"Who?"

"Who? Who what?"

Clark glared; the Joker was playing with him. "Who is behind it."

"If I told you that, Clark, it wouldn't be a secret anymore."

"You said it yourself; I'm a dead man, and Lois isn't leaving here alive."

"That may be the case, but I thought you were a dead man once already. Oh no, Clarkie, I'm not going to let the lion out of the bag just yet." He faced Clark, watched as his eyes narrowed and understanding filled them.

"Why did he do it?"

"To take you out of the picture, of course."

"To what end?"

"I'm not a mind reader, kid. Just a sociopath. You'll have to ask him that yourself. Oh wait, you can't; you're dead. I give you another hour, tops, and that's only because you're so damn stubborn. I wonder if the bat will hold on as long as you? I think I've earned the right to have a little fun before he dies."

Where Superman was smooth and calculated, thinking quickly and logically in a dangerous situation, Clark Kent was passionate and ready to defend those he loved with his life. The thought of this man, this maniac, touching Bruce sent adrenaline rushing through him. He launched himself upwards when the Joker turned his back to pace in the other direction, a move the villain wasn't anticipating.

He was too weak to do much more than knock the man to the ground before collapsing in a heap, clutching his freshly bleeding wound, and gasping for breath. He was going to die. This was it. He couldn't fight off the spots at the edge of his vision, and it was getting harder to breath.

When the Joker rose over him and landed a vicious blow to his ribs, pain rocketed through his body. Dimly, from somewhere too far away to really pay attention to, he could hear Lois screaming. His lungs were contracting, but he wasn't drawing in oxygen anymore. Uninjured and healthy, Clark could hold his breath for an extraordinary length of time. But he wasn't healthy. He needed to breathe, and he couldn't.

Clark welcomed the darkness when it came. It meant an end to the constant agony emanating from his leg. It meant he was no longer desperate for air. It meant he didn't have to think of the brutality this enemy could inflict on the person he loved. The last coherent thought he could muster was of Bruce. Of how he wouldn't be able to save him from this. Then there was silence.

* * *

The light was gone. Her shoulder screamed at her. She could smell the blood even over the stench of human waste that permeated the room. It was cold, Clark lay dead just a few feet away from her, and she understood now that no one was coming.

If what the Joker had told her was true, then it wouldn't be long before he got what he wanted. Her mind worked a mile a minute, piecing things together. Morgan Edge had been cloned by Lionel Luthor in order to destroy Superman. The Joker had worked with Edge to kill Clark in order to end the life of his own enemy. Now the Justice League faced extinction.

Lois had never been able to find proof, but she knew that Lex had, long before reforming his life, created a vaccine for many of the world's known diseases. She knew that he had used samples from some of the deadliest illnesses known to man to create this.

What she had put together from the Joker's ranting after Clark had stopped breathing, was that those same samples had been used by Lionel Luthor to create a biological weapon that would target meta humans and those not native to the planet Earth. People who had abilities above and beyond those of someone considered a normal person. People like many members of the Justice League. Those that couldn't be taken out by the virus would be left with their defenses down and become easy targets for destruction by other means.

Luthor had used Edge as a front to create this weapon. And Edge had used the Joker to implement it. Lois leaned over as far as she could and vomited on the cold, concrete floor to her right.

* * *

Lex's information had led them to the far reaches of Metropolis, to a building that was old and long abandoned. The wooden roof was falling in, the support beams were rotting, and many had collapsed. It was silent; an oddity, especially in Suicide Slums.

Batman, Green Arrow, Cyborg, Aquaman and J'Onn moved silently through the building, testing each step before placing his full weight down on the worn, rotted floor boards and moving carefully through years of garbage and broken glass. Impulse, Lex, and Wonder Woman monitored their movements from their mobile base of operations.

No one spoke as they moved quietly forward. The building appeared to be empty, but the blue prints had shown a cellar dug into the ground. They were heading for the stairs that would take them down into the dark.

* * *

Lois blinked when the light suddenly flicked on, casting shadows back into the corners and illuminating Clark's body in the middle of the floor. She looked up, squinting, to see five costumed figures standing before her. Her head spun, and she was sure she was imagining them.

"You're too late," she finally whispered.

* * *

The stench that hit them when the door opened distracted Bruce from seeing the scene laid out before him for a moment. When he blinked and looked around, his heart jumped into his throat and he thought for a moment that he might pass out.

Lois's voice was harsh, gritty, and abused. Her words ran through his mind as Oliver pushed past him and went to kneel beside her. Bruce's eyes fixed on Clark's impossibly still form. You're too late. Too late. Too late.

He dropped down beside him as the others stood in the doorway, struck into stunned silence. He pulled off a glove and reached for Clark, fingers pressing to his neck, digging in, searching for a pulse he already knew he wouldn't find.

"No," was the only thing he said. So softly that no one else in the room heard it. Lois was crying. Victor was cutting the chains that held her. Oliver was picking her up, cradling her to his chest. J'Onn and A.C, stood silently by. The place was empty. There was no one here to capture. No one here to pay for this crime. There was nothing they could do.

* * *

Martha Kent held the cold hand of her son tightly. He had been laid gently on a soft bed in Cadmus labs. His body had been cleaned, the bullet removed from his leg. Sun shone brightly through the windows on two walls, illuminating his hair and reflecting on too pale skin. She felt the tears falling down her cheeks. He was gone. Her baby was gone.

* * *

Bruce sat huddled in the corner of an empty office. The same office in which he and Lana had talked just days before. They had brought Clark back to Cadmus. Bruce couldn’t think of Clark as a body. Not yet. His mind was eerily blank. He couldn't process this. He had gone to find Martha; he wanted to tell her, hoped it would take away the lump that had settled in his throat if he could just say it out loud. If he could tell her that he loved Clark. That he had lost the person who made him whole.

But seeing her sitting beside Clark, head bent, hand clutching his lifeless one had sent him running for the bathroom where he'd promptly emptied the contents of his stomach. And now here he was, curled in a corner the same way he had after his parents had died, fighting not to cry. It was a fight he was losing.

"Bruce?"

He pulled his head up to look at Lana standing in the doorway. She entered. Knelt in front of him. She didn't reach out to touch him. Just smiled softly, sadly, with tear-filled eyes.

"I'm sorry."

He nodded. She stood and left him, shutting the door behind her.

* * *

The sun set, and still she sat beside his lifeless form. The others had been coming and going. Some standing silently behind her or beside her. Some sitting across from her. Some sharing tears with her. She lost track of who came and went or how long they stayed. Chloe had fallen to pieces, she knew. That had been early in the day, when she was still paying attention. Jimmy had led her away. Lex had told her later that Chloe was sleeping in a room down the hall, and that there was a bed for her as well. His voice had cracked when he laid a hand on her shoulder and said she needed to rest.

Lois had been in, fighting exhaustion and Oliver every step of the way. Her arm was bundled against her chest in a sling, and Oliver was telling her that she was hurt and dehydrated and needed to be in bed. She had shaken him off and headed straight into Martha's arms. It was the first and only time Martha let go of her son's hand.

"I'm sorry I couldn't save him," she had whispered.

"Don't, Lois. Don't take this on yourself." It was the first and last time she had spoken.

Now she was surrounded by darkness. She was so tired. Too tired to notice as Bruce finally slipped into the room and stood just inside the doorway. She laid her head down, never giving up her grip, and closed her eyes. Sleep took her down into the dark soon enough.

In the doorway, Bruce watched in silence.

- 6 -

Harley talked when Bruce started breaking bones. When she started talking about the wrong things, he broke her wrist. He felt himself sinking into a darkness he had never known before. He didn't doubt that he would have continued breaking bones if A.C. hadn't entered and pulled him away.

"What the hell did you do that for?" he shouted once they were out of earshot.

"You were torturing her!"

"She was on the verge of telling me what we need to know."

"And were you planning to tell anyone else when she gave you that information?" Bruce stared coldly at a spot just over A.C.'s shoulder. "That's what I thought. I think you need to step back and let us handle this."

"What?" Bruce pushed him away and stalked back towards Harley's cell. "You're insane if you think I'm going to back down now."

"Hey!" A.C. lunged forward, grabbing onto Bruce's cape and yanking backwards. His step faltered as his balance shifted and it was enough for the other man to tighten his grip and spin him around.

"I suggest you let go of me."

"This isn't you. You don't torture people. You don't threaten your friends. He's gone, and this will not bring him back; do you understand that?"

Bruce sagged, the anger draining out of him. "He can't get away with this."

"He won't. But we're going to do this the right way. He's dangerous, and if what he told Lois is the truth, then he's targeting you next. You need to sit this one out."

"Not a chance."

A.C. lowered his voice. "Don't make us lose you, too." Bruce could see the strain in his eyes, in the tight lines around his mouth. He was right.

"I can't stand back and just watch. I'm going back in there."

"You're not hurting her anymore."

"I won't. She's scared. She thinks I'll hurt her if she doesn't tell me what I want to know. She will talk."

"I'm going with you."

"No."

"Damn it, Bruce!"

"Stay here." He was gone – back down the hallway and into her cell.

A.C. paced the hallway for a while; it was still a couple hours before dawn and he glanced out the window near the bank of elevators at the night sky. Oliver appeared at his side looking tired and determined, and Bruce strode towards them a few minutes after, expression grim.

"If we move now, we might be able to catch him before he disappears."

* * *

The sun warming her face and hair woke Martha. She had fallen asleep bent awkwardly over the bed, and someone had draped a blanket over her shoulders. She sighed quietly, resting there for a moment longer before sitting up slowly, rolling her neck to work out the kinks. It was then the events of the previous morning rushed back to her. She turned her head to look at Clark as if to make sure it was real.

Green eyes looked back at her.

She breathed out once, quickly, and almost forgot to draw in another breathe as Clark blinked up at her. "Clark."

His mouth opened. He tried to speak and could not. A frown pulled at his lips, creased his brow. He opened his mouth and tried to speak again. Martha could see the fear in his eyes.

After what seemed like an age, Clark forced out a single word. "Mom." He frowned again and a tear dropped from the corner of his eye onto the pristine, white pillow under his head. "N-not... right."

* * *

Clark felt like he was drowning. Thoughts were racing through his mind; questions he wanted desperately to ask but couldn't. He couldn’t get his body to cooperate. Words seemed to be just slightly out of his grasp; he had to fight to force them out. His body felt wrong. Heavy and sluggish, like there were unseen weights holding him down.

He tried to tell his hand to move, to squeeze his mother's the way she was squeezing his. He tried to push himself up, but couldn't. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong with him and what came out was a pained whimper. Clark looked into his mother's eyes and saw his own fear reflected there.

"Help."

* * *

The lab was beneath an abandoned building on the outskirts of Metropolis, less than two miles from where Lois and Clark had been held captive. When the Justice League arrived, there was immediate retaliation from the men disassembling the equipment and loading it into waiting trucks. The standoff was long and bloody. In the end, Bart retreated to base with an impairing leg wound, and A.C. had several deep cuts on his torso.

The remaining five members of the Justice League made their way inside.

From the corner of his eye, Bruce could see Oliver next to him. Body tensed, eyes focused on their surroundings, arrow lined up and ready to let loose. Oliver wanted this over just as much as he did. He knew that the Joker wouldn’t be leaving this place alive.

They moved swiftly along cold, empty corridors. They were close, Bruce could feel it. He knew that their enemy was still in the building. The place was surrounded by the Metropolis police, who covered all entrances both above and below ground. There was no way he was getting out.

He knew the others were worried he would do something drastic. He was worried, too. His mind kept drifting back to the feeling of Harley’s bones snapping beneath his hands and the look on A.C.’s face when he had told him to stop. He had crossed a line, and he wasn’t sure where to go from there. J’Onn interrupted his thoughts.

“This is it.” They had stopped in front of a set of steel, double doors, the ones Harley had described as the entrance to the control room. The one place Joker would hide and think he was safe. “They are inside.”

A red light blinked at them from the camera in the upper left corner of the hall. Victor took it out of commission in a few seconds and set to work on the keypad. With the disabling of the camera came a flurry of activity inside. It was muffled, but Bruce could hear the Joker screaming orders at his men. Victor signaled at them to move, and they fell off to the sides and dropped to their knees as the doors clicked and opened.

The sound of gunfire filled the hallway as bullets flew above their heads. Masks were pulled on as Bruce sent a gas grenade sailing into the space and a cloud of tear gas erupted inside the control room. Entering the room, Bruce spotted the Joker racing towards a door at the far end. Grabbing Oliver by the arm, he raced after him and left the others to deal with the incapacitated criminals.

The door led to stairs, and they could see the Joker's back disappearing as he reached the bottom and rounded a corner. They followed swiftly, pausing long enough to ensure there were no nasty surprises waiting around the bend. Joker was already gone from sight, and there were no exits to be seen.

“Damn it, he is not getting away. Not this time!” Bruce growled.

“Cyborg, we need a scan of the area below the control room. Joker’s gone and there’s no visible exit.” Oliver paced the length of the hall, running his hands over the surface, looking for a hidden door.

“At the end of the hall you should find a trap door at the base of the wall. It’s about two feet high and two feet long and leads into another hallway. At the end you’ll find a door. It’s got a keypad entry. Give me a second and I’ll get you the code.”

Oliver was already on his knees feeling for the door. He pushed and the wall moved inward and over. Glancing back at Bruce, he started through. Victor’s voice was back in their ears as Bruce stood up on the other side.

“The code is 22833284. Once you’re through the door, you’ll be in a large space, about 100 feet wide. There are three exits from there – one leads another level down, one is an elevator that comes back to this floor, which I’ve already disabled, and the third leads into what looks like an electrical room.”

“We taking bets that Joker’s gone down a level?” Bruce asked.

“I’d rather keep my money, thanks.” Oliver flashed a quick grin as he punched in the code. He paused. “The code spells out ‘Bat Death’ – that can’t be good.”

“Nothing with the Joker ever is,” Bruce responded as the door slid open.

They found themselves in an empty room with a high ceiling made up of steel support beams, a hard-packed dirt floor, and concrete walls. To the left was the elevator, to the right was an open door that led to the electrical room, and across the space was the Joker disappearing down the stairwell to the lower level.

“Cyborg, what’s waiting for us down there?” Oliver asked as they raced across the room.

“It’s not on any of the schematics, and it isn’t wired for security cameras. You’re going in blind; be careful.”

Oliver and Bruce glanced at each other as they reached the door. Bruce took the lead, heading down the metal stairs slowly, looking for traps, and testing his weight carefully before each step.

Diana’s voice crackled over their ear pieces. “The authorities are taking the Joker’s men into custody. Do you two need ba-”

“Looks like we’ve lost radio contact,” Bruce said, keeping his voice low.

“They’ll follow when they realize.”

“Sure hope so.” They were faced with a door painted with the bat symbol. A blue and white “come in, we’re open” sign was stuck haphazardly across the centre. “Because this can only lead to trouble.”

He reached out and turned the knob. The door was heavy and swung slowly closed behind them; the sound of the lock clicking into place behind them echoed in a room, about a quarter of the size of the space a floor above. Joker stood opposite them, leaning casually against the wall, grinning.

“Welcome to the place where you’ll die.”

“The authorities are upstairs and the rest of the League is on their way down. Give up, Joker.”

“Now why would I do that? You can’t let me live; I know Clark Kent’s secret identity. But I know you, Batty. You won’t kill me. You can’t kill me.” He pushed off the wall and started walking towards them. “All those morals you hold in such high regard have no place here. It’s either kill me, or die. And I don’t think you have the balls to do it.”

He stopped about ten feet away from them and clapped his hands. The room lit up with bright, multi-coloured lighting and panels slid open along the walls, revealing a multitude of weaponry; everything from baseball bats and 2x4's, to swords, to machine guns, grenades, and most disturbingly, a large bomb ticking down from the 20 minute mark.

“You planning to blow the place up, Joker?” Oliver advanced swiftly.

Joker pulled out a gun and pointed it at Oliver’s chest. “Not so fast, Green Arrow. And yes, actually, I am planning to blow the place up. It's a shame your communicators don't work down here. You won't be able to warn your friends."

Bruce eyed the weapons. It was hard to tell in the flashing lights, but the guns looked fake - like they were made of plastic. The bomb, on the other hand, looked very real. He started inching towards it.

"Not so fast, bat boy." Bruce's eyes flicked up to the Joker's face. "Stay where you are, and your friend will stay intact. For a few more minutes, at least."

"The bomb's going to kill us anyway. Why should I listen to you?" He continued to move.

The gun shifted in Bruce's direction and fired, ripping through the flesh of his left hand. He grunted at the sudden explosion of pain, but did not back down. The Joker readjusted his aim and was about to fire a second time when Oliver launched himself at him, throwing them both to the ground.

Bruce raced across the fifteen feet separating him from the bomb. He didn't hear the grunt as Oliver's head connected with the ground, or the scuffle of movement as the Joker pulled a very real, very heavy piece of wood from the wall. His attention focused solely on the bomb, he didn't hear the wood whistling through the air as it arced towards him, slamming into his back, and sending him flying to the floor with a scream of agony.

He tried to get up, but his arms wouldn't move. Bruce could feel them, which pushed thoughts of paralysis from his mind, but he couldn't control them. His back felt like it was on fire as muscle spasms in retaliation to the blow set in. The wood came crashing down again, this time on his already injured hand, and he screamed again.

Then Oliver was pulling Joker off him and away, shoving him to the ground. He landed two successive blows to the man's face before he was caught off-balance and shoved aside, rolling until his head hit the wall. He lay in a heap, stunned by the blow.

Joker lurched to his feet and stumbled towards Bruce. "It's time to unmask the bat," he said as he knelt beside him. In one swift motion, Bruce's cowl was pulled off and his head was yanked painfully back by his hair.

There was a moment of stunned silence; laughter followed. "Bruce Wayne. I never would have suspected you of playing the Dark Knight, Brucie." He leaned in close, whispered right into Bruce's ear. "Too bad I'll have to kill you now." The Joker pushed his head forward, smashing it into the ground and stunning Bruce.

He stood and retrieved the gun that had fallen to the ground a few feet away. Bruce willed his body to move, to cooperate, but his back was still loudly protesting the idea and he couldn't gain enough leverage with one arm to push himself upwards.

The gun cocked; a sick, sliding click echoed in the garishly lit room. Bruce closed his eyes and wondered fleetingly if he'd see Clark on the other side. He wasn't expecting it when the Joker slumped into a heap next to him.

Oliver stood nearby, bow in hand, watching as the Joker drew in one final breath, and stopped breathing. Then he was on the move again, kneeling beside Bruce just long enough to make sure he would be alright for a few more minutes before he was at the bomb.

Bruce watched in a haze as the time ticked down to just under four minutes and finally stopped their descent. He breathed a sigh of relief when the door flew open and the rest of the Justice League flooded the room. And then he remembered that Clark was dead. He let the pain take him under, welcoming the bliss that came with the empty darkness filling his mind.

* * *

Clark struggled to sit up in bed, grinding out a ‘no thanks’ at his mother when she tried to help him. The Cadmus staff had examined him thoroughly; it had taken almost four hours. Four hours of being poked, prodded, and hooked up to more machines than he'd been able to keep track of.

His mind, they said, seemed to be working just fine. His body, on the other hand, wasn't willing to obey its commands without a fight. The longer he sat with the sun shining down on him, however, the better he'd begun to feel. In just a few hours he had gone from struggling to force out single words, to being able to speak in broken sentences and move slowly on his own.

Lois’s cell phone erupting in a too-loud chorus of Right Said Fred’s ‘I'm Too Sexy’ stopped Clark in mid-shift and made her the focus of everyone’s attention. She was curled on her side in the bed next to Clark’s, rooting through her purse with her good arm.

“What?” she asked, noticing the stares directed at her.

“Too Sexy, Lo?” Chloe grinned.

Lois glared at her cousin. “Oliver?” she said into the phone as she finally found it and answered.

Lex snorted. Clark stared at him – he’d never heard Lex snort before – before breaking into a grin and carefully settling himself back against the pillows. Chloe, Lana, and Jimmy had broken into their own rendition of the song while Martha laughed in the background and Lois tried to shush them.

“Where is everyone?” Oliver was asking in Lois’s ear.

“We’re at Cadmus.”

“Are you guys having a party or something?” His voice verged on disbelief.

“No, I’m being mocked for my choice of cell phone ring tones.” She pulled the phone away long enough to shush the others again.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes. Love you.”

* * *

Oliver froze as he entered the room. He’d just come from seeing Bruce into surgery for his hand, and the sight of Clark sitting up in bed, smiling, was the last thing he had expected to see. He’d come here to pay his respects to the dead. But Clark wasn’t dead. In fact, he seemed alive and relatively well. Oliver just stared until Clark took notice of him.

The soft and slowly spoken “hey Oliver” brought him back to the present. He frowned and shook his head, looking at the others gathered in the room.

“What happened?”

“Clark appears to be relatively invincible,” Lex drawled. “He scared the hell out of Martha when she woke up to find him staring at her this morning.”

“But, no, you were dead, Clark. No pulse, not breathing. Dead.”

Clark shrugged, and again Oliver noted the movement was slow and carefully executed. “I got better.”

"Some want to explain this one to me?"

It was Lex who answered his question. “Clark appeared dead. His body shut down in deference to the kryptonite in it. We removed the kryptonite when he was brought here and cleansed the wound. He was exposed to sunlight for an extended period of time, and his body started to heal itself. This morning he woke up unable to really speak or move. As the day has progressed and his sunlight exposure has continued, he’s started to regain verbal and motor skills. We’ve run tests; Clark’s mind is perfectly functional, but the rest of him is taking a while to catch up. If our projections are correct, he should be back to his old self within 48 hours, give or take a few.”

“I-wow, well. That’s good news. That’s really good news.”

“The shock will wear off in a bit,” Lois said and smiled tiredly at him. As he came to sit next to her, Clark addressed him.

“Where’s Bruce?”

Oliver glanced swiftly, meaningfully, at the others in the room. “He’s indisposed. But I’m sure that as soon as I can get through to him, he’ll be here.” Clark nodded, looking worried.

Lex’s cell phone beeped, and he glanced at the screen, raising his eyebrows at whatever was there. “The Joker’s dead.”

Clark’s eyes cut quickly to Oliver, but the older man didn’t acknowledge the look.

“What happened?” Chloe asked.

“He was taken down by an unnamed member of the Justice League after seriously wounding another. The League is currently dismantling his base of operations. They’ve laid claim to any information that might be found there on the claim that certain information could be a security threat to the general population.” Lex was silent a moment, looking up and out the window. “He nearly detonated a bomb big enough to take out half of Suicide Slums.”

Clark’s eyes were downcast now. He’d given up on trying to get Oliver’s attention; he knew the man wouldn’t tell him anything with the others here. He’d have to wait. Clark couldn’t remember ever missing his powers as much as he did at that moment. His instincts were screaming at him to open his hearing wide and search for the familiar sound of Bruce’s heart beat, but he couldn’t. Instead he sat in a room full of people celebrating the loss of a threat and wishing he had Bruce’s strong arms around him.

- 7 -

"Lex?" Lana appeared in the doorway of the penthouse office.

He smiled. "You came home."

"Of course I did. Just because I needed time to acknowledge what you said, it doesn't mean I was planning to leave you."

He dropped his eyes to his hands for a moment before looking back up at her. "Come here?"

She moved towards him at a steady pace, finally stopping just in front of the chair where he sat. He reached up to take her hands. "I shouldn't have said what I did."

"You were honest with me, Lex."

"There's a difference between being honest and being hurtful."

"It would have hurt me more if you'd lied to me. Especially when I've known the truth for a long time. I'm not a fool, Lex. I'm not an innocent. Not the way you seem to think I am. I can take care of myself; you don't need to protect me from you."

"I feel like I'm supposed to tell you I'll never leave you."

"But we both know that would be a lie."

"I do love you, Lana."

"I know, Lex. Even on the days when you love him more, I know you love me." She smiled at his questioning look. "There are days where I know you aren't all with me. Those are the days I know you're thinking about him. You might not admit to yourself that he's what you're thinking about, but I see it. I understand it. I accept it."

"Why?"

She leaned up and whispered in his ear. "Because I've loved him, too."

* * *

When Bruce opened his eyes, it was to see Alfred’s familiar face leaning over him. His mouth was moving, and Bruce struggled to gain enough of a grasp on awareness to hear what he was saying.

“Master Bruce? How do you feel?”

Bruce’s mouth quirked up at the corners as the words finally filtered through. “Sore.”

“I should expect so. Your back is a mass of bruises, and don’t get me started on the mess you’ve made of your hand.”

A full-fledged smile broke through. “I’m sure I’ve been worse, Alfred.”

“That’s the pain killers talking. You’ll be singing a different tune when they wear off.”

“Where am I?”

“Master Queen’s apartment in Metropolis. He and I agreed you wouldn’t want to stay in hospital any longer than was necessary to have your hand seen to. It will heal, and I know you well enough to have no doubts that you’ll recover fully.”

The mention of a hospital brought thoughts of Cadmus Labs flooding into his mind. Of Clark lying still in death on bland, white sheets, looking so pale against them. “Clark,” he whispered, a wave of agony rushing through him.

“Master Clark is just fine.”

Bruce took a moment to register the words. “What?”

“He’s a little slow, a little sluggish, but he will also make a full recovery.”

“He was dead.”

“He came back to life.”

Bruce stared. “He’s really alive?”

Alfred nodded solemnly. He’d never heard Bruce sound this broken, this scared to believe something before. It frightened him that this man could be so dependent on another person. At the same time it warmed his heart.

Bruce seemed to read his mind and shook his head. “You think too much, Alfred. Where is he? I want to see him.” He tried to get out of bed, but fell back as the muscles in his back and a wave of dizziness protested the move vehemently.

“You can see him soon enough. You won’t be doing him any good if you fall over and smash your head open trying to get to him.” Bruce growled in response, but Alfred just stared back grimly.

“Fine,” he sighed, sinking back onto the bed. “At least let me call him.”

“He’s resting. Which is what you need to do. You can call him later.”

“You’re aware that you are the only person who can get away with talking to me like this, right?”

“Except for Master Clark.”

Bruce rolled his eyes and then closed them. He wanted to sleep almost as much as he wanted to go to Clark. Sleep, however, seemed to be winning the battle of desires.

* * *

Lionel Luthor disappeared from the public eye shortly after finding out that his son had killed Morgan Edge. He wasn't afraid. He was being careful. He had no doubts that Lex would never find out about his involvement in this matter, but it never hurt to err on the side of caution. Lex was a force to be reckoned with when threatened.

He'd been in London under the pretense of business for almost five days before the door to his hotel suite was flung open and a rather large and definitely imposing man strode in. Lionel could see two other men of equal stature in the hallway, and his security team was nowhere to be seen.

"Mr. Luthor. I hope I'm not interrupting anything." He spoke with a crisp, clean British accent.

"I get the impression you wouldn't actually care if I said yes." Lionel did not rise from the leather recliner where he was seated.

"You're rather astute." The door shut behind him as he moved to stand in front of Lionel.

"Did my son send you?"

"What do you think?"

"I think he no longer possesses the balls to defy me."

"You'd think wrong, Mr. Luthor."

"Please, call me Lionel. After all, if you're here to kill me, we should at least be on a first name basis."

"I don’t plan to kill you, Mr. Luthor."

Lionel quirked an eyebrow and watched as the man bent to the black, leather briefcase he'd set by the door. He didn't flinch at the sight of the instruments as they were pulled out and laid carefully on the coffee table, but he did speak.

"I find it hard to believe that my son, in his newly reformed way of life, would condone torture."

"I was given instruction to teach you the value of life, Mr. Luthor. I have carte blanche to do that by any means I see fit." He picked up a syringe and advanced.

Lionel was up and out of the chair, pulling a gun from beneath his suit jacket and pointing it at the intruder.

"You don't want to do that, Mr. Luthor. Trust me. It would be a very big mistake."

"I don't think so."

The door to the suite flung open and a shot popped off from gun of the man standing there before Lionel could even turn. He reached a hand up to his neck and felt the tiny dart embedded in the skin there. Just like in the movies, he thought before falling to his knees, his head swimming.

He heard the man's voice as if it were coming from a great distance. "When you wake up, Mr. Luthor, we are going to have a little bit of fun."

* * *

The longer it took for Bruce to put in an appearance, the more agitated Clark became. His friends seemed to pass it off as frustration about the pace at which he was recovering. Lex knew the truth and tried to reassure Clark whenever they were alone, but it seemed to only make him more anxious.

Clark was lost in his own thoughts, only half listening to the chatter of his mother, Lois, Oliver, Jimmy, and Chloe around him, when his door opened. Bruce stood framed in the entrance just watching him and waiting for Clark to look up and see him there.

When he finally did, Bruce strode wordlessly across the room, ignoring his body’s protest at moving so quickly. He didn’t stop at Clark’s side. He climbed onto the bed and straddled his hips, wrapping his uninjured hand in Clark’s hair and pulling him up into a kiss that seemed to last forever.

Neither was aware of the silence in the room, or the stunned looks of its other occupants. They were only aware of each other, of the feel of the other mans lips, tongue, roaming hands, and strong body pressed close.

Bruce finally pulled back, sucking in a deep breath and grinning. “I think I just outed us.”

“Don’t think I care,” Clark laughed in response. He pulled Bruce back down to his mouth, the kiss softer this time, less urgent. “You’re okay?”

“I will be. You?”

“Promised I wouldn’t leave.”

"Hey, Smallville," Lois broke in from the other bed. "Any other big secrets you're hiding?"

Clark didn't look away from Bruce's eyes as he answered. "Nope, this is it."

* * *

Several hours later, only Bruce, Clark, and Lois remained. Bruce raised his water glass, tapping it against the side of Clark's. "A toast," he said.

"To what?"

"To us, as pretentious as it sounds."

Clark laughed. "I think we've earned the right to toast ourselves."

Leaning in, Bruce set their glasses on the nearby table and shifted so that his injured hand was out of the way as he pressed his mouth against Clark's.

"Just because there's a curtain between us, doesn't mean I can't hear you over there."

Clark rolled his eyes. "You know, Lois, you could let them move you to a different room."

"And miss out on the chance to see two of the most powerful men in the world making out like high school seniors in the back of mommy and daddy's Volvo? I don't think so. That image is way too hot to pass up."

"Can't someone sedate you?"

"Admit it, Smallville. You like knowing I'm over here. You've been hiding in the shadows for years, and now it's time to come out and play."

"Lois, play nice or I won't take you home." Oliver entered the room.

"Home? They're springing me? Fantastic, let's go."

"Is she always this easily distracted?" Bruce asked.

"Only when it comes to her boyfriend."

"I heard that, Kent."

"Go home, Lois."

She poked her head around the curtain. "I'm glad you're alive, Clark." And then she was gone, the sound of her voice issuing demands for coffee carrying down the hall and fading away.

"Finally alone then," Clark said.

"Finally."

There was a knock at the door. Bruce moved off the bed and looked around the curtain. If Perry White was surprised to see one of Gotham City's wealthiest residents paying a bedside visit to Clark Kent, he hid it well.

"Can I help you?"

"I came by to see Clark. Chloe told me where to find him." Bruce quirked an eyebrow in interest, but he gestured for Perry to enter and stood nearby while the man took the seat next to Clark.

"Perry, you're just about the last person I expected to see here."

"That maniac tried to take out two of my best reporters, of course I'd come see them. Although I hear I just missed Lois."

"Guess it's your lucky day," Clark grinned.

"Don't let her hear you say that. Anyway, I wanted to stop in and let you know it's fine to take your time coming back to work. You've got plenty of sick days, and we can get by without you for a while."

"Trying to get rid of me, Perry?"

"Trying to look out for you, make sure you're 100% when you come back. Clark, it's alright to take a break." He paused and drew in a deep breath. "The world will get by just fine without you for a little while, I promise."

Clark tilted his head and looked at his boss inquisitively, noticing his use of the words 'the world' instead of the planet. "Sure," he finally said. "I'll take my time."

"Good." Perry stood and clapped a hand to Clark's shoulder. "Take care." He moved past Bruce and out of the room. Clark stared after him.

"That was weird. It's like..."

"Like what?"

Clark shook his head. "Nothing." He smiled. "Can we go home?"

"Home sounds really good right now."

* * *

Lionel woke to freezing, bound limbs and a heavy iron device strapped around his head. He opened his eyes to find himself up to his neck in icy water in the suite's bathtub. He tried to speak, but a cutting pain across his tongue silenced him almost immediately.

"It's called a Scold's Bridle. The Scottish used them to silence a woman who talked too much. The iron plate in your mouth is covered with spikes, so I suggest you keep quiet." He moved into Lionel's line of sight. "How's the water, Mr. Luthor?"

Lionel didn't respond. He tried to test his bonds and failed; he could feel his body, but he couldn't move it of his own accord. He was shivering in the water and trying to keep his teeth from chattering, every movement pressing the spikes subtly against his tongue.

"You see, by placing the mask on you I've taken away your freedom of speech. By removing your clothing, I've removed your ability to cover your body from prying eyes. The drugs in your system coupled with the bonds have disallowed you the use of your limbs and as such the ability to move. And I've run you a nice cold bath so that you can feel what it's like to be truly cold with no means to get warm."

Lionel glared in response.

"I wonder if you've noticed the tinge of pink in your bath water yet." He paused, watching Lionel's eyes flick down and back up to meet his own swiftly. "You see, I've also taken away something else from you."

Lionel was slowly becoming aware of a searing throb down low on his body.

The man leaned forward and dropped his voice, speaking directly into Lionel's ear. "You see, Mr. Luthor, I've taken away your ability to procreate." Standing, he moved towards the bathroom door and opened it. "Your security guards should wake up sometime in the next hour. I'm sure they'll find you then. In the mean time, I suspect you might walk away from this experience with a greater understanding of a person's right to live. Good day, Mr. Luthor."

He closed the door behind him, ignoring the sound of Lionel's muted raging on the other side. Gathering up his instruments and packing them back into his briefcase, he let himself out of the suite. The two men stationed at the door fell into step beside him as they headed towards the elevators at the end of the hall. Flipping his cell phone open, he dialed a number and said only two words.

"School's out."

"Excellent," Lex Luthor's voice came back across the line. "Payment has been wired to your account."

* * *

Clark woke the next morning in a tangle of warm, naked limbs. Bruce was curled around him, his good hand tucked up under his head, his injured one resting on Clark's chest. He breathed a soft sigh and watched him sleep.

The silence in the room was broken a few minutes later. "I thought I was going to die, Clark."

"You were being over dramatic."

Bruce continued his eyes still closed. "I thought I'd lost you. Holding on didn't seem to matter as much anymore. I wouldn't have thought like that two years ago, Clark. It scared me. Two years ago I would have gotten up and kept fighting." He opened his eyes and looked up at Clark. "How did I get so addicted to you?"

"I don't think you're addicted. I think you've finally let yourself feel something other than anger for the first time in a long time." He reached up to brush the hair back from Bruce's forehead. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to want, to love, to have hope. You don't need to shut yourself off from that."

"Old habits die hard." He leaned up, pressed a chaste kiss to Clark's mouth, and shifted over top of him to deepen it. Propping himself up on his left elbow, Bruce reached with his good hand to stroke across Clark's bare stomach. "Sure you're alright?"

Clark pushed into the touch. "Back to normal, according to the doctors."

"Good, because I'm going to fuck you now."

He moved his body in behind Clark's, prompting him to lift his head so he could slide his left arm underneath him, letting him rest his hand against his chest. With his right, he reached for the tube of lubricant that Clark hadn't even noticed him pull from the nearby drawer.

There was none of their usual banter this time. None of the teasing laughter that usually marked the intimacy of this act. Bruce thrust in hard and fast, biting into the soft skin of Clark's neck and gripping his hip, pulling him in to meet his movements. Gasping breaths and the sound of skin meeting skin was the only noise in the room.

He slid his hand from Clark's hip to grasp his cock; Clark shuddered and began to thrust back onto Bruce and forward into his hand, letting himself drown in the sensations pelting his body.

When it was done, when they lay bathed in sweat and wrapped in each others arms, they didn't speak. Clark was nearly asleep when Bruce broke the silence.

"I did things I should never have done, Clark. When I thought you were gone."

Clark turned to face him. "What kind of things?"

He dropped his eyes, finding the centre of Clark's chest and staring fixedly at it. "Harley refused to tell us anything. The entire time you were missing I stayed away from her because I knew I would do something drastic. When we found you, and you were-" He stopped, cursing raggedly under his breath.

"Take your time," Clark whispered, stroking the hair back from Bruce's forehead.

"You were dead, and I was desperate to make him pay. But Harley wouldn't give up the location, and I was so afraid he would get away with what he'd done. I-I tortured her. I started breaking fingers until she told me what I wanted to know. A.C. stopped me, but... I overstepped a boundary, Clark; I did something I promised myself I would never do."

"Desperate times, desperate measures, Bruce, along with a long list of other cliches."

"Cliches won't take back my actions."

"No, but they will let you know you aren't the only person to cross a line and regret it. I've done a lot of things I regret, Bruce. Things that, if I had the chance to go back and change, I wouldn't change. They've shaped me into who I am now."

"I don't know if I can be this person," Bruce whispered.

"You'll figure this out, this new dynamic, this new version of you."

Bruce finally looked into Clark's eyes. "You seem pretty confident."

"Been there, done that, bought the commemorative program."

"Could you be any cornier?"

"I could try."

Bruce rolled his eyes. "Please, don't."

"Everything happens for a reason."

"Stop."

"The grass is always greener on the other side."

"I'm warning you."

"There's no use crying over spilled milk!"

"That's it, Kent!" Bruce was on him, kissing, tickling, and pinning him down against the bed.

Clark laughed against his mouth. "You can't change the past, Bruce. You're only human. I love you just as you are."

Bruce paused, turned serious for a moment. "You know," he said, looking down at Clark. "You're so full of shit, it's a wonder your eyes aren't brown."

Eyebrows raised, Clark just stared at him for a few seconds. Bruce stared back, waiting. The resulting grin was wide and bright, full of warmth.

"Now who's being corny?"

"Guess you've rubbed off on me."

"I'd like to rub off on you right now."

Bruce laughed. "Alright, Kent, you're going down now!" Clark opened his mouth to respond, but Bruce clapped his hand over it. "Don't even go there." He could feel Clark's lips form a smile under his hand and the puff of breath against his palm as the other man started laughing.

Clark was right. He'd figure it out. They both would.

- end -

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