A/N: This takes place after 1x12 Leech. What I think should have happened.

Lex stared at his car. The hood was torn off, the windshield bashed in, and even with his best explanation of what had happened, it simply wasn't possible. He saw Clark in the hospital. He couldn't possibly have hit him at sixty miles an hour and have lived.

Clark was in the barn when he got to the Kent farm. Mrs. Kent directed him there when he knocked on the door to the farmhouse. Mr. Kent was giving him his usual sour look.

Clark wasn't watching Lana through the telescope for a change. He was laying on the couch up there, just staring at the ceiling.

"What now, Lex?" he asked without moving. As far as he knew, Clark hadn't saw him, hadn't heard him.

"I wanted to apologize again," he said, moving up the stairs. "I shouldn't have been so..." Lex trailed off, not really knowing where he was going with this.

"It's fine."

"It's really not." Lex shook his head as the kid continued to lay there. "So how are your ribs?"

"Better."

He raised a brow at that. It hadn't even been a full day and his ribs were better? But he didn't want Lex to know anything was strange or different about him.

He also didn't feel forgiven for his accusations. One and two word answers weren't the equivalent of forgiveness. Not wanting to make things any more awkward between him and his only friend, he started to head out when Clark's voice stopped him.

"Lex?"

"Hmm?"

"Why'd you come here?"

Lex felt the sharp stinging defensiveness that came up at his words. Anyone else, he would have said they asked because he was a Luthor and Luthors couldn't do anything for anyone other than themselves. But Clark's words sounded genuinely confused, wondering. Not an accusation, which was a change from the hospital.

"I wanted to see how you were doing."

Clark shook his head, sitting up finally. He didn't move like a kid who had just had his ribs bashed in.

He almost expected Clark to deny his words, to say that he was there to snoop and pry some more. And while he felt ashamed and guilty about it, he didn't exactly believe that Clark Kent was like everyone else.

"Thanks."

"What are friends for?" He asked offhandedly. The flash of guilt over Clark's features was new though. Lex dismissed it and walked downstairs, heading back to his car.

His car that Clark was leaning against.

Lex looked back to the barn, then at Clark. There was no way he beat him here with broken ribs.

"You weren't exactly wrong," he admitted softly as Lex got closer. "I'm not human."

Not human.

Despite expecting it, he had never expected Clark to admit it.

"Define not human," Lex said carefully, taking a step forward towards him.

"I'm not from Earth."

Lex furrowed his brow. "You're trying to say you're an alien?" It was almost funny. He hadn't been expecting that. He expected him to say he was another of those impacted by the meteors, that he had gotten powers from it.

His blood felt like it was burning inside of him. All those times he had suspected anything, Clark had dismissed it as Lex being crazy. But he had been right. Something was different about Clark. And it was passing him off that all this time, Clark just acted like he was being stupid.

"Did you not tell me because you couldn't trust me?" Why else would his so-called best friend lie to him?

Clark shook his head frantically. "No, I do trust you. I was just... I was afraid."

"That I'd tell everyone?"

"That you'd look at me like I was some sort of freak. Do you think I enjoy lying to everyone? Pete doesn't understand why I can't play sports, and I can't tell Chloe she's right about all her meteor theories. And you..."

He cut off, looking like an insanely lost puppy dog, a lost, kicked alien puppy dog.

His best friend was an alien. He was best friends with an alien. An alien who didn't want to be looked at like he was different. He couldn't help loosing the anger.

"Does nobody really know?"

Clark shrugged. "My parents do. They're the ones who told me. But they're it."

Lex pinched the bridge of his nose to try to starve off the headache. No wonder the Kents were so overly protective of their son. If he had adopted an alien, he would be too. And he kind of had adopted Clark, in a way. He was the closest thing he had to a brother. He wasn't about to let anything happen to the kid.

"I'm sorry for not telling you before," Clark whispered, just loud enough Lex could hear him.

Damn him. Why did he have to look so sad, like he was afraid Lex was going to call him a freak and run off and go tell everyone? Perhaps he was just projecting, but he didn't like how worried someone so young looked.

"I'm not thrilled that you've made me think I was crazy," Lex said and the kid hunched his shoulders, like he was trying to make himself look as small as possible, head drooped, avoiding his eyes. And boy, oh boy, he remembered those days, trying to not make himself a target because his father would never understand and never give him sympathy for it. He forged forward. "But I understand why you did." He squeezed Clark's arm and the kid looked up at him, looking hopeful for the first time since the conversation had started. "Thanks for telling me."

The next thing he knew, he had an armful of Kansas farm boy, squeezing him tighter than humanly possible. He patted him on the back, as much as he could move his arms. Which was when Mrs. Kent stepped out on the porch.

"Lex?" She called out and Clark released him. His grin was like the sun breaking through the clouds. "Are you staying for dinner?"

Lex couldn't help to smile back. "I'd love to, Mrs. Kent."