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VVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Lex strolled through the noisy, bustling Metropolis airport, his knee-length black coat fluttering around him, killing time before they boarded his flight en route to Paris. Sometimes he enjoyed taking regular civilian transport rather than a private jet--it felt more human.

He suddenly caught sight of a young man in a similar coat, but it was light brown. The young man sat waiting at a gate. His dark hair hung down in his face, and he was leaning his elbows on his knees, his head low. Lex still recognized him.

He stopped in front of him and let the young man notice his shiny shoes. The youth looked up and met his eyes.

"Bruce Wayne," Lex smiled. "This is about the last place I'd expect to see you."

"Hello, Mr. Luthor," Bruce gave him a halfhearted smile. "I think I could say the same of you." He waved to the empty chair next to him. "Can I offer you an uncomfortable airport seat?"

Lex sat down and settled into the same position, though he kept his head up and laced his fingers together.

"I thought you were going to school at Princeton," Lex commented.

"I was," Bruce sighed. "I'm headed home right now; this is just a weird layover on the way to Gotham."

Lex's brow furrowed.

"Are you on break?"

Bruce shook his head. Lex noticed how dark he was under his eyes, and how the usual brightness in his eye had faded. He also had a deep line between his eyebrows that Lex hadn't seen before.

"No. The uh..." Bruce cleared his throat and swallowed. "The man who killed my parents is petitioning for early release."

Lex was silent for a long moment.

"The man who..." Lex trailed off. "I thought your parents died in a car accident."

Bruce looked sharply at him.

"Who told you that?"

"My father," Lex answered, then shook his head. "But it wouldn't be the first time he lied to me just because he felt like it."

Bruce said nothing for a while staring ahead of him at the wall across the walkway. Then, finally, he spoke shortly.

"They were shot by a mugger outside of the opera when I was little."

Lex took a breath and looked away from Bruce, his chest tightening as he processed that.

"I would say I'm sorry, Bruce," Lex stated. "But when people said that to me after my mother died, I knew they didn't have a clue what I was going through, and it didn't make me feel any better."

Bruce turned and met Lex's eyes. He nodded once.

"Thanks."

Neither of them said anything for a few minutes.

"So," Lex ventured. "Are you...going to a hearing or...?"

Bruce shifted and cleared his throat again.

"Yeah. Just to...well, to speak for my parents. Somebody has to."

"I agree," Lex acknowledged. "Then what are you going to do?"

Bruce stared ahead and his jaw tightened.

"I don't know."

"First call for flight 603 to Paris, France, boarding now at Gate 52."

Lex sat up at the sound of the voice over the speakers.

"That's my plane," he sighed, and stood up. Bruce raised up as well, though wearily. Lex tried to smile.

"Well, good luck, Mr. Wayne."

"Thank you." That half-hearted smile was back. On impulse, Lex reached inside his coat and pulled out a business card and a pen.

"Listen, Bruce," he said as he held the card in his hand and scrawled on the back. "Here's my personal email address. If you ever need anything," He held it out. "Don't hesitate to ask."

Bruce blinked, and stared at the card. Then the smile grew more genuine.

"Thanks, Lex." He took it and put it in his own coat pocket. "Have a good trip."

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

Something was wrong. Though Bruce offered to show him the restored grounds, his expression had darkened, sharpened, and he wasn't looking around. His gaze was distant, and Lex watched him carefully, as if his host were a brooding lion.

Clouds covered a good portion of the sky, but it was warm, and the grounds around Wayne Manor were lush and green and smelled refreshing. Their soles scraped on the drive as they walked, hands in pockets again, around the downhill side of the building. Lex could see the masterful work that had been done, but though Bruce walked beside him, the master of the house was not being a very good tour guide. Finally, Lex stopped walking.

"Was that not a legitimate question?" he demanded.

"What?" Bruce halted, not fully turning to him. "Whether or not I spoke to your father?"

"Yes! You're the Prince of Gotham, one of the few who can honestly say that you're equal, maybe even superior, to the Luthors," Lex reminded him, gesturing in frustration. "If my father wanted to wrest control of Luthor Corp out of my hands, you're one of the only people who could--"

Bruce's eyes blazed.

"You think I would do something like help a man murder his son?"

Lex stood there for half a second, then spoke, his voice low.

"Every man has his price."

Bruce stared at him.

"Is that what you think?" His voice was deadly.

Lex settled back, remaining calm, never breaking eye contact.

"In my experience, that's what I know."

"No," Bruce stepped forward, his nose wrinkling into a snarl, his voice quiet. "Even if he broke my knees and stole everything I own, I would never make deals with a man like Lionel Luthor." His eyes blackened, a frightening, powerful storm building beneath. He raised his eyebrows. "And I would like to watch him even threaten any of those things."

He swept past Lex and started down the hill. Lex felt sick again, and it was as if he had lost his footing. Quickly, he turned to face his host.

"What happened to you, Wayne?" he called.

Bruce stopped but did not face him.

"I know you disappeared for five or six years--and I'm almost sure that you didn't burn down your own house," Lex jabbed. "What happened to you?"

Bruce merely stood.

"Something had to," Lex continued, taking two steps toward him. "You're not the same man I knew before. I don't know of anyone who has met my father that could say something like that with such confidence."

Bruce turned very slowly, and his gaze cut like razors.

"Are you afraid of him, Lex?" he asked in a low tone. "Or are you afraid of yourself?"

Knife-like coldness pierced through Lex's chest as Bruce turned back and continued to stride down into the grove of ancient trees. Unable to do anything else, Lex followed him.

VVVVVVVVVVV

Lex stared out the window of his study, leaning back in his chair, a finger draped over his lips. It was a beautiful day outside, and for some reason he could not concentrate. In fact, he had not been able to concentrate for about two days. Not after the purchase he had made.

A knock came at his door, and he bid them enter. His secretary opened the door and spoke.

"A Mr. Bruce Wayne here to see you, sir."

Lex stood up so fast he sent his chair rolling backward. He could do nothing but stare as the tall, rugged, years-older-since-he-saw-him-last man in a suit came striding through the door, smiling and extending his hand.

"Bruce," Lex managed, grasping the hand that very obviously belonged to a living person. "You're...you're not--"

"Dead?" Bruce grinned. "I know," he said wryly. "And it's been fun trying to persuade people."

Lex suddenly broke into a smile and laughed.

"Well for crying out loud--why were all of your shares liquidated and your company made public--"

"That's what I came to talk to you about," Bruce sobered.

"Have a seat," Lex offered, sitting down behind his desk and closing his laptop. Bruce settled into an armchair across from him. Lex studied him a moment. He was different; there was now something subtly animal-like about him, and he possessed a deep, steely strength he had not borne before.

"I want to buy the shares back that you just bought," Bruce stated.

Lex's eyebrows went up.

"Really? Why?"

"I'm attempting to own my family's company. Makes sense, right?" he held out his hands. Lex chuckled.

"Of course."

"And I also don't like the direction Wayne Enterprises has been taking while I've been gone."

Lex's eyes narrowed.

"What do you mean?"

Bruce thought a moment.

"They're becoming a little too...militant."

"Ah."

"Somehow I don't think that specializing in illegal weapons of mass destruction was really my father's intent," Bruce's mouth twisted. Lex glanced down.

"Actually, you probably have my father to thank for some of that."

Bruce's gaze sharpened.

"What?"

Lex leaned forward, propping his elbows on the desk.

"Do you remember the day my father brought me to your house and then went to talk to Mr. Earle?"

Bruce nodded.

"They've been in regular contact, discussing various experiments and weapons. My dad has been pushing Mr. Earle in this direction--either that or has just found a fellow

collaborator."

Bruce settled back into his chair, gazing out the window, and Lex suddenly got an uneasy feeling, as if he was in the presence of a coiled cobra.

"I know my father has bought some of your shares," Lex added. "And I doubt he'll be willing to sell them." Lex paused. "But you can have all of mine back."

Bruce blinked, and the cloud lifted from his face.

"Lex, that's too generous of you. I can't ask--"

"I'm not offering. I'm telling you," Lex held up a hand. "They belong to you--they declared you dead and sold your shares, but you're clearly not dead, and so they're rightfully yours."

Bruce gave him a small but genuine smile.

"Thanks, Lex. It's refreshing to see there are still people in the world like you."

"Maybe you've just been in Gotham too long," Lex joked.

"Oh, believe me; I haven't been there long enough."

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Lex slowed his steps as he rounded one of the monstrous oaks and found himself in the Wayne cemetery. Cautiously, he stepped between the leaning gravestones, the air silent, heavy and still, gazing at Bruce Wayne's back.

Bruce stood before a large headstone, his arms crossed over his chest. Wordlessly, Lex approached and stood to his right. Glancing down, he read the names inscribed on the marble.

Thomas and Martha Wayne

Beloved Parents

"I can't tell you everything, Lex," Bruce murmured, his eyes narrowing as he studied his parents' grave. "But I can tell you what I almost did." He took a deep breath. "I came back for that proceeding; and they let the man go who murdered my parents. I had a gun. I was going to kill him. I had been waiting for years to kill him."

Lex stared at him, trying to digest that.

"But you didn't," Lex inserted, fighting to keep the hope from invading his tone. Bruce frowned.

"No, I didn't."

"Why?" Lex asked. And suddenly, he found himself desperately wishing that Bruce would say something like "Because that would have been wrong" or "The need for revenge was replaced by a desire for justice." But Bruce did not speak for a very long time. Finally, Bruce just lifted his chin.

"Someone else killed him first."

Lex swallowed, then locked his gaze on the marble in front of him again. His footing was slipping again--he felt as if he was standing on quicksand. He went cold.

"After that," Bruce went on. "I became so...afraid of what I had almost done--of what I still could do--that I had to get away. I had to get away from all the people I cared about. I was afraid of what I could do to them." He glanced up, gazing at the leafy bows overhead. "It took several years, but I finally learned something." He turned to Lex squarely. "Even with everything I've been through, I have no excuse. I know the difference between right and wrong. So instead of being afraid of the darkness inside me, I had to fight the darkness, both inside myself and in others. I had to make a conscious decision to do what was right." Bruce turned back to the grave. "That's why I had to stay in Gotham. And stop being afraid."

Lex let out a deep breath. His foundation rose up beneath him and he regained his balance. A bird trilled in the distance. They stood in silence for a few minutes, and then Bruce threw him a small smile that warmed the icy moment, showing Lex that there was no permanent damage. Lex returned the expression.

In a moment, Lex glanced down at his watch, then spoke.

"I've got to go, Bruce," he told him. "I have some business in town and I have to take care of my treatment."

"Okay," Bruce acknowledged. "I'll walk you to your car."

As they strolled back up the hill, Lex caught a few clandestine studies of Bruce's face, noting two small scars there that he had never seen before. He knew for certain that Bruce was hiding a great deal--but so was Lex. He sensed that both men realized this, but were comfortable with it, as long as they were honest in what they did say.

They arrived in the drive way, where Harold was waiting in Lex's limousine. Lex approached the vehicle, and Bruce trailed back.

"Tell me something, Lex," Bruce suddenly said. Lex turned.

"Yes?"

"Why did you really come here?"

Now, Lex just wanted to chuckle. There were very few people on earth that could read him like Bruce could. He ought to just resign himself to that.

"To tell you the truth, Wayne," Lex faced him. "You're my mirror. You always have

been." Lex shrugged. "And I suppose, with everything that's happened lately...I just needed to see if I could still recognize any of you in myself."

Bruce looked briefly surprised.

"And what's the verdict?"

Lex watched him for a moment.

"Don't give up on me yet," he almost asked.

Bruce grinned genuinely.

"I'm not in the business of giving up on people."

Lex smiled again, not showing his slight relief, then got in his car.

VVVVVVVVVVV

Bruce Wayne,his arms folded across his chest, watched Lex's limo drive down the hill and vanish around the bend. His brow creased and he glanced down at the paving.

"Is everything all right, Master Wayne?"

Bruce did not turn at the sound of Alfred's voice.

"Yes, Alfred," he replied. He heard Alfred descend the front steps and come up to stand beside him.

"How is Mr. Luthor?"

Bruce stared at the place where his car could last be seen.

"He worries me," he confessed quietly.

"He does, sir?"

Bruce nodded slowly.

"I think we need to check up on him more often."

"Why, sir?"

Bruce took a deep breath.

"Well, otherwise someone is going to have to come out of the woodwork in Metropolis." He glanced at Alfred gravely. "My monster can't split himself between Metropolis and Gotham."

Alfred's eyes widened.

"You really think it will come to that, sir?"

Bruce's brow tightened, he looked back at the road, and did not answer.

THE END