Invulnerable for my Lex-loving friend

Lex looked out across the audience, at the sea of faces set in mock-rapt attention and felt very tired. Maybe it was boredom, he couldn't tell, but the feeling of weariness increased more everyday. The only reason he didn't step off the stage and walk away from the Luthorcorp shareholder drones was because of one figure that stood in the back. He was half in the shadows but Lex could see the earnest expression on his face, as he tried to listen to Lex's every word. He smiled inwardly. Only Clark would take his unwarranted outburst from the other night to heart and make it a point to correct a wrong that didn't even exist.

Two nights before, he'd walked into the Penthouse, too tired to take the helicopter to Luthor mansion, to find Clark waiting for him by the fireplace with a bag bulging with Chinese takeout beside him. It should have been a welcome sight, but that night he'd only felt irritation. Clark—far more astute than he ever let on, sensed his mood immediately, but instead of giving Lex the space he desperately needed, he decided to 'cheer him up' instead. Lex was in no mood to be cheered up.

For the previous hour he'd thought of nothing other than a long hot shower and soft silk sheets, followed by sleeping pills so he could drift into an undisturbed slumber. So when Clark insisted they eat that greasy drudge and relax together afterwards, Lex lost it. It wasn't Clark's fault, and Clark knew it, but Lex knew just how to twist his words to make Clark doubt his own innocence, which pissed Clark off. From there things quickly escalated into an argument. Clark told him he'd "been a moody shit" lately and worked too much, and Lex then went into how Clark treated him like he was the governor of hell just because he didn't understand a thing about business or care to. Then it all devolved into why were they together in the first place if Clark cared so little about a huge part of his life. Clark backed down then, because he knew Lex was making very little sense, and because he could see the stress and fatigue etched in every line of his body. He'd gotten very quiet and put the Chinese food away, telling Lex he'd leave him alone if he wanted to go take a shower; that he had some work he needed to catch up on.

Normally, Lex would immediately apologize for taking his mood out on him; soothing Clark with gentle words until a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, but instead, he disappeared into the bath, and went straight to bed. He didn't see Clark again until he climbed into bed later and wrapped his long limbs around him, asking very softly if he was Ok. He didn't know if he was or not, but in that moment he needed a release only Clark could give him.

The saying goes, "still waters run deep" and less eloquently, "Watch out for the quiet ones."—both were true of Clark. He'd have never guessed Jonathan Kent's son could be so frenzied in bed. He was sure people three floors below could hear him while Lex brought him closer and closer to the edge before finally letting him go. So that night Lex apologized in the only way he knew how and prayed Clark didn't ruin another headboard.

So now there stood Clark, making good on his silent promise to take more of an interest in Luthorcorp. Lex met his eyes and gave him a small smile. Clark nodded and broke into a smile of his own. He finished his speech quickly, barely acknowledging the applause as he stepped away from the stage. His head was suddenly pounding and he just wanted to find Clark and get as far away from there as possible.

He spotted Clark standing just outside the double entrance to the meeting hall. Clark walked up to him, and then stopped, frowning.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong Clark, what are you talking about?"

Clark looked at him with an intensity that made Lex uncomfortable.

"You'd better not be X-raying me!" he hissed.

Clark looked away. "I wasn't…I just…you're blinking more, and you have perspiration starting on your forehead. You're lungs also sound a little congested."

Lex rolled his eyes and started walking. "You really missed your calling Clark; you should have gone to medical school."

Clark pulled Lex back. "I'm serious…."

"Not here." Lex walked briskly to the waiting car, motioning for Clark to follow.

He told the driver to head towards the mansion. He just needed quiet now.

As the limo moved smoothly out of the city, he could feel Clark getting worked up beside him. "I'm fine Clark."

"You're not, and don't tell me it's a just a headache, something is off. Something has been off about you for days. You never get this tired."

Lex sighed and closed his eyes. "I'm older than you remember? But fortunately for you, your species doesn't seem to tire much." He immediately regretted saying that.

Clark's jaw tightened and he turned to look out the window.

"Hey, I'm sorry Clark…"

Clark glanced at him and raised his eyebrow. "You only said that to piss me off so I'd stop talking and leave you alone. And fine, I will. But don't ask me not to worry, because you never get sick. Never."

He asked Clark to stay when they got back to the mansion. Clark just nodded his consent and headed to the kitchen—his favorite room. He often wondered how two poor farmers managed to keep him fed all those years. When Clark emerged he was carrying two bowls of beef bourguignon, or "beef stew" as Clark referred to it. He placed one of the dishes on Lex's desk.

"Eat."

The smell made his stomach flip and he pushed it away. "You know we have this thing called a dining room, and there are a few over-paid servants around here somewhere willing to serve us there."

"If I thought I could get you to sit down to a whole dinner, I would. You said you were tired." Clark gestured to the paperwork spread out on the desk.

"That doesn't mean I don't have loose ends to tie up, and I'm not up for another argument, so drop it."

Clark shook his head, a little exasperated. "I'm going to go on patrol for a while. I'll be back." He left his plate on the desk and took off in a rush of air.

Clark stood on top of the Daily Planet roof, listening for cries of help in the city below, but his mind was elsewhere. Being in a relationship with Lex Luthor was far from easy and more often than not, Clark wanted to walk away from it and make his already complicated life a lot less complicated. But this bond they shared couldn't be discarded so easily, and Clark found himself time and time again swallowing his doubts and trusting Lex openly. The one promise Lex made was that he would never lie to him, and now that ever present doubt kept grabbing hold of his chest making it difficult to breathe. He tried to shake it off and focus on the fact that something was very wrong with Lex and he needed him right now and that's all that should be important. Clark stopped a handful of muggings and one fire, and then headed back to the mansion.

He went straight to Lex's office where he knew he'd still be. Lex sat at his desk with his head slightly bent; his plate of food was left half-eaten beside him; perspiration had erupted on his head and he shivered slightly. When he looked up, Clark was taken aback at how pale he looked.

"Lex…?"

He looked like he just noticed Clark was in the room and eyes seemed unfocused. "Uh, hey Clark, can you bring me a glass of water?"

Clark had a glass of water to Lex's mouth in under two seconds. "You need to lie down Lex, you're burning up."

Lex stumbled as he tried to get up and Clark caught him just before he fell.

"You're going upstairs and I'm calling the doctor."

Lex shook his head and tried to croak out "no" but he fell limp in Clark's arms before he could get the word out.

Clark ran Lex over to the sofa, calling frantically for the butler. He tapped Lex gently on the face, trying to get him to stir.

"Come on Lex…"

The only response he received was a soft moan, and in the next moment Clark was grateful for his speed because Lex sat up and expelled the contents of his stomach, and Clark grabbed the trash can just in time.

Carson walked into the room just as Lex was going for round two. To his credit only a slight widening of the eyes betrayed his alarm.

"I'll call a doctor…"

"NO!...no.." Lex tried to sit up, but Clark made him lay back down.

"You're sick Lex, let him call a doctor."

Lex shook his head. "Doctor can't…help. Jesus Clark, move!" He cursed Clark for leaving that stew on the desk— he really wished he hadn't touched it now.

Clark felt his insides go cold. Here we go. "What did you do Lex? What did you take?"

He collapsed back onto the sofa "Don't look at me like that, Clark."

"What did you take Lex?"

Carson had backed out of room, deciding to let the two of them work this out on their own.

"Clark calm down…it's just…something I've been working on. And stop looking at me like that—its nothing bad. I just thought maybe the side affects had been worked out; if that's what this is."

Clark was pacing now, cursing Lex under his breath. His cheeks were inflamed with the anger he was trying desperately to control. When he finally stopped Lex saw that there was definite fear mixed in with the frustration in his eyes. He took a deep breath and kneeled next to Lex, fighting to control his voice.

"What was it, and how dangerous is it?"

"Synthetic intelligence. Not literally, but a drug to enhance the electric synapsis in the brain. We'd been doing trials with M.I.T and I volunteered to be the first human guinea pig. I know how you feel about me experimenting on people."

Clark looked incredulous. "So you thought I'd be Ok with you experimenting on yourself?"

Lex shut his eyes. "Can you yell at me later. My head really can't take anymore."

"I'm sorry…but, should I be worried? …Lex?"

Lex was pulling at his shirt, he felt incredibly, unbearably hot all of a sudden. Clark reached over and felt his forehead, his fever had spiked dangerously. He ran to the kitchen to get some ice, grabbing his cell phone on his way back and called Dr. Emil.

By the time Emil arrived Clark had taken Lex upstairs, and removed his shirt. He tried desperately to think of any way he could to get his fever down. Emil walked in, syringe in hand prepared not to waste any time.

"I take it this isn't the usual flu virus?"

Clark shook his head. Lex had grown delirious in the last half hour.

Emil gave his shoulder a friendly squeeze. "I'll take some blood and a sample of the drug and we'll figure this out. In the meantime I'll give him something that should bring his fever down. It'll be ok Clark."

Clark nodded and held Lex's hand while Emil gave him a high dose of ibuprofen. He took some blood and hurried to Lex's lab in the basement to run tests.

Clark sat there soothing Lex and holding the bucket when he needed it. His fever dropped below the dangerous level it was before, but Lex was still shivering and his headache seemed to be growing worse.

Emil returned about twenty minutes later looking more worried than when he left.

"Very interesting concoction, but it seems to have caused a mutated virus to attack his cells and it's multiplying at an alarming rate. It closely resembles a strain of the flu virus, hence his symptoms, but…"

"Can you stop it?" Clark was terrified now, and if Lex caused his own death over something so idiotic as "synthetic intelligence" he would drag him back from hell and kill him all over again.

"I'm going to treat the most life-threatening symptoms for now, but I'm using the drug itself to hopefully produce and antidote, and most likely solve his side-effect issue."

"That's the last thing I care about right now, just please…do what you can."

Emil nodded and hurried back to the lab.

Clark sat quietly next to Lex as he drifted in and out of sleep. Once he caught Lex just staring at him, and he gave him a small smile. Lex squeezed his hand with the little strength he could muster.

"Something as stupid as the flu isn't going to take me down. Stop worrying."

Clark looked at him, blinking back the tears that had formed in his eyes—he was so tired of this. "People die of the flu everyday Lex. I may be invulnerable, but you're not. You need to remember that."

"You care that much huh?" Lex tried to laugh but it quickly turned into a dry cough.

Clark rubbed his back gently. "I don't know why you keep doubting it. I wouldn't be here if I didn't, so accept it already. You're probably the most important person in my life." Clark stopped and wiped at his eyes.

Lex smiled a little. "Woah, big guy, you crying over me?"

Clark raised his eyebrow. "Big guy? And yea, I do that sometimes."

Lex was about to tell him he shouldn't when a pain exploded in his chest and his eyes rolled back in his head.

Clark screamed for Emil who came running. "He's crashing Clark, stand back."

Clark didn't move. "Back! Now Clark unless you want him to die!"

Emil grabbed his medical bag and pulled out a shot of adrenaline and quickly stabbed the needle into Lex's chest. Lex jolted violently, then went still. Clark stared, fearing the worse, but relaxed when he heard Lex's heart beat slowly returning to normal.

"I guess now is as good a time as any to see if this works."

Clark was past caring how upset he looked. "Will it kill him?"

Emil shook his head and prepared the shot. "No….it will either work or it won't. The rest will be up to him."

Emil gave Lex the shot directly into his vein then walked out to give them both some privacy. It was all very anti-climatic. Lex slept through the shot and there was no miraculous change. Clark sat and watched Lex breathing, listening for any difference in every breath, until he finally fell asleep next to him.

When Lex opened his eyes again, there was this beautiful, sleeping boy next to him. Clark always looked so much younger in his sleep when he wasn't burdened with the weight of the world. He reached over and brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes. Clark stirred immediately—he'd never get used to what a light sleeper he was.

"Lex?...how are you feeling?

"Like hell, but better."

Clark sat up in bed and looked at him with very tired eyes. "I can't do this again Lex, I mean it. Your life means something, so stop playing with it. I want you to live as long as possible."

Lex looked at him understanding maybe for the first time that Clark actually meant what he said—that maybe finally, after all this time, there was something more important than himself, and someone worth living for.

"I can't promise anything—I'm not bullet proof, but I'll do my best."

Clark nodded, mumbling "…that's all I ask" and drifted back to sleep.

Lex settled down against the pillows, wrapping an arm loosely around Clark's waist, reminding himself before he drifted off to ask Emil for his findings as soon as he was well again.

Fin.