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Disclaimer: not mine
Summary: Lex is ill
Clark was the only one who seemed to notice, and even then he didn't say anything. But Lex could see it in his eyes, pain, questions, as if he was wishing Lex would tell him, but also didn't want to know. That hurt a little, but Lex understood.
He understood denial; if Clark didn't ask, then he could pretend nothing was wrong. He could pretend that Lex wasn't getting thinner, that he wasn't constantly tired, that he didn't keep getting sick. Yeah, Lex knew all about denial, after all, he was the one who hadn't been to a doctor.
He couldn't, he was a Luthor, Luthors didn't get sick. Lex could imagine his father's response to him calling the family physician. Only one of the reasons he hadn't called him though. Luthors weren't supposed to get scared either, but he was. Lex was terrified. Terrified of being ill, terrified of his mortality.
His brief encounter with death had left him with a love of life, even with the pain in it. He had a friend, he had purpose, a small measure of independence from his father. Lex sighed, this was ridiculous.
He picked up the phone and called Dr. Jones.
@>*~
"Hi, Clark."
Clark looked up and smiled. But his smile faded immediately at the sight of his best friend. He'd noticed over the last couple of months that Lex didn't look well, but he'd hoped that as Lex hadn't said anything, that it wasn't serious, but now...
He hadn't seen Lex in a couple of weeks and the change was more than noticeable. Hollows in his cheeks, a grey tinge to his complexion, dark, dark smudges under his eyes. His clothes hung off him and he looked exhausted.
"Lex," Clark started hesitantly. "Oh God, what's wrong?" He couldn't stop himself from flying to Lex's side and helping him over to the couch.
Lex smiled and tried not to be worried that he wasn't even annoyed at being treated like an invalid. It was Clark after all, Clark didn't patronise, he was just helping his friend.
"I uh, well, where to start," Lex sat down with a groan of pain, that made Clark hover anxiously.
"Lex," Clark repeated, kneeling next to him, gently placing a hand on his knee, "You're ill aren't you?"
Lex couldn't help a short laugh at that and it sent him off into a coughing fit. Clark leapt to his feet and as Lex was distracted, he super-speeded his way to the kitchen to grab a glass of water for his friend.
"Here," Clark said quietly, holding the glass out.
Lex took it gratefully and sipped until he was back under control. "Thanks," he said with a tight smile. He was really dreading this, but it had to be done.
"Lex, what's wrong?" Clark needed to know, Lex seemed to have deteriorated so fast.
"I'm dying, Clark."
Clark stared at him, quite unable to believe what he'd just heard. "No," he whispered, shaking his head.
"Clark, I..."
"No," Clark snapped, "No, you're not dying."
Lex shut his eyes against the sheer pain in Clark's. "Clark," he tried again.
"You can't die," Clark whispered. He still couldn't quite wrap his head round it. Lex couldn't die... Lex was, Lex was too important. "Your life belongs to *me*, I won't let you... you can't..."
Before Lex quite knew what was happening, Clark's voice had broken on a sob and the boy had disappeared. "Clark?" Shit. Lex sighed and tried to stand. It wasn't happening. After that somewhat unexpected reaction, Lex couldn't find the strength to move. Instead he pulled his cell from his pocket.
"Hello, Mrs. Kent, yes it's Lex. I'm in your barn, would it be too much trouble to ask you for some assistance? I need to talk to you and I'm having a few... yes okay." Lex pressed the button to disconnect the phone. What he was reduced to. Well, at least it was Martha Kent, anyone else and he would have just waited until he had enough strength to get up.
"Lex?"
"Hello Mrs. Kent," Lex smiled at her as she climbed the steps into the loft.
"Oh my God, Lex are you well enough to be out?" she exclaimed.
Lex's smile widened briefly, "It won't matter much in a few weeks anyway, Mrs. Kent, don't worry."
Her eyes narrowed, "What do you mean?"
"Cancer, Mrs. Kent, terminal and untreatable," he paused at her gasp and waited for her to sit down. She did so heavily. "I'm afraid Clark took the news rather badly."
"You told Clark?"
"Of course," Lex nodded, "He was the first to know, after my father obviously."
"Oh Lex, I'm not sure that was..."
"I know," he interrupted her, "But he already knew I was ill, I know he did. He's my best friend, I had to tell him."
She sighed, "Are you okay?"
Lex laughed, "Oh sure, I have a few weeks to live and my best friend ran away rather than deal with the news, I'm just fine."
"I'm so sorry," she breathed.
To his shock, Martha Kent wrapped her arms round him and hugged him tightly. Lex stiffened briefly, but melted into her embrace, wishing it was his own mother.
"Thank you," he whispered. Then he cleared his throat and pulled away. "Now if you'd just help me up, I need to go home."
"Of course," she nodded.
@>*~
Clark ran blindly, tears streaming from his eyes. He knew he was being selfish and that just made him *hurt* even more. Lex needed him, had come to him and what had he done? Run away.
Clark stopped so suddenly he left a hole in the ground, and collapsed into it, letting the tears take over completely. Lex was going to die, Lex was going to leave him. How was he going survive that? He needed Lex, needed to go to his friend and cry and be comforted.
God! If he needed Lex that badly, how must Lex feel? So *selfish*! Clark dragged himself to his feet determinedly and started to run again, back the way he'd come. He checked the barn briefly on his way past and then continued on his way to the castle when he'd confirmed it was empty.
He didn't even bother to be careful, Clark just used every means at his disposal to find and get to Lex.
Clark slipped into Lex's bedroom and walked quietly up to his bed.
Lex knew he had company as soon as he heard the door open, and he guessed it was Clark. As soon as the person in his room stopped by his bed, Lex opened his eyes. Barely restraining the flinch at the raw pain in Clark's eyes, Lex smiled ruefully.
"I'm sorry," Clark whispered, staring down at dull blue-grey eyes.
"Why?" Lex asked quietly. He understood, of course he did. If Clark told him he was dying, he'd deny it with every breath.
"For being selfish, for worrying about me and my feelings, for not being there when you needed me," Clark sighed.
"You're here now," Lex replied, holding out his hand. Clark nodded and took it. Tears shone in his young friend's eyes and Lex tugged lightly. With a pained smile, Clark clambered onto the bed, pausing briefly to remove his shoes, and got under the covers, drawing Lex into his arms.
It was more than Lex could have hoped for and he felt his own eyes prickle unexpectedly. Squeezing them shut, Lex snuggled back into his friend's warm arms and sighed.
"What... what is it?" Clark asked hesitantly.
"Cancer," Lex replied.
"Oh God!" Clark suddenly found it hard to breath again, "Oh God!"
"Clark, what?" Lex asked worriedly.
"That weird bump on your liver," Clark groaned in guilty agony, "That's cancer, isn't it? Oh God, Lex, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry..." He dissolved into tears again.
Lex was stunned. "How... how could you possibly know that?" he stammered.
"I saw it, a while back. I didn't know," Clark groaned again. How could he possibly have known? He wasn't a doctor, didn't have any real knowledge of anatomy. He'd just noticed that Lex's liver was a strange shape, lumpy.
"How, Clark? How did you see it?" Lex asked carefully.
"I can see through things," Clark whispered, "I can run faster than your cars, I can lift your cars one handed, I can be shot and just bruise," his breath hitched with tears and he tried to swallow the lump in his throat, "I'm to blame for everything bad that happened because of the meteors. I'm an alien. I have these abilities and I can't *save* you."
Lex let Clark speak, shocked and yet not. It was more than he'd expected; Clark was an alien, he could never have expected that. But Clark's tendency to feel guilt over every little thing whether it was beyond his control or not, worried him. He didn't want Clark to blame himself for his death.
"Clark, are you an oncologist?" he asked in a firm tone.
Clark blinked. He wasn't entirely sure what an oncologist was. "No?"
"No. Are you a doctor?" Lex continued.
"No," Clark whispered.
"Clark, you saved me once already, and I've loved every minute of knowing you. But you are not God, you can't save everyone, all of the time. It's not your fault," Lex dropped his head into the crook of Clark's neck, "Just, please, be there for me, okay?"
"I promise," Clark whispered, pressing his lips briefly to Lex's scalp.
@>*~
Lex's condition had worsened more quickly than he'd realised it would. Clark looked nearly as bad as he did. His young friend had actually forced his parents to agree to him staying at the castle over the last week and he did everything for Lex.
Carried him to and fro, helped him eat, dress, bathe, go to the bathroom. It would have been humiliating, except that it was Clark and Clark loved him, they were best friends. His young friend even slept with him, holding him tightly every night, soothing him immeasurably.
"Clark?" he whispered, the pain was getting bad again and he was going to have to give into the need for morphine.
Clark was at Lex's side in a flash. He was bone tired; grief, guilt and pain was tearing him apart. But he refused to let it interfere with him supporting and looking after Lex. "Hey Lex, you okay?"
Lex snorted, "Do I look okay, farm boy?"
"You look dapper and gorgeous as ever, Lex," Clark grinned and sat on the edge of the bed. His heart broke a little at how thin and frail Lex was, but it didn't mean he wasn't still beautiful to Clark. But then, Clark was in love with him.
"Yeah, yeah," Lex whispered, "Clark..."
Clark blinked back sudden tears and nodded. He hated this. Hated giving Lex these injections, hated knowing how much Lex needed them. "I know," he said quietly. He administered the morphine quickly, waiting for Lex's usually sharp eyes to glaze over, then close. That was what he hated most of all.
"I love you, Lex," he whispered, knowing Lex couldn't hear him. He got undressed to his boxers and slipped into bed beside Lex, enfolding the wasted form gently, and let himself drift.
@>*~
"Clark," Lex croaked. It was time, he could feel it. Or rather, he couldn't feel anything. No pain, it was bliss.
Clark sat up abruptly in the bed. "No," he breathed, turning to Lex. "No," he repeated. Somehow he knew it, Lex was... "No, Lex, please. Don't go, don't leave me." His mouth trembled as he tried to force back the tears.
Lex smiled sadly, "I have to, Clark. I'm sorry." He closed his eyes and swallowed carefully.
Clark wrapped himself back round Lex, shaking. "Please, Lex, I can't live without you."
"Silly boy," Lex whispered, "Of course you can. You're going to have a great life. You can do whatever you want, you'll have a lovely wife, beautiful children... I want you to be happy, Clark."
"How can I be happy without you, Lex?" Clark lifted his head to stare down at the much loved face of his best friend, "I love you."
Lex almost laughed, probably would have done if he'd had the strength. Of all the cruel and unusual punishments for his life, he couldn't have imagined worse. "Oh God, Clark, of all the times to tell me. I love you so much, I'm sorry I'm leaving you."
"Lex," Clark sobbed, tears falling on Lex's face, "I'm sorry." He dipped his head and brushed a gentle kiss against Lex's lips.
Lex sighed, almost happy.
Clark felt the last breath against his cheek, then nothing. Clark held his breath, hoping that Lex's heart would start beating again, praying that he would feel warm breath against his skin again. "Lex?" he whispered, "Lex, please not yet, please. Wake up, Lex, please," he begged the silent form. But there was no answer. There would never be an answer again.
Clark sat up, gathered Lex in his arms, tipped back his head and howled his pain and anguish. He didn't even notice when Enrique tried to pull him away, didn't even notice when later his parents came to try and talk to him. He just held Lex to his chest and cried.
@>*~
The funeral was hard. The Kents accompanied their son, a couple of Lex's servants, but the only other person there was Lex's father. Who looked bored. If Clark had recovered at all from his grief, he would have smacked the elder Luthor all the way back to Metropolis.
But as it was, he didn't give a damn for Lionel Luthor, he was the one who'd loved and been loved by Lex, he was the one who'd suffered loss. If Lionel Luthor couldn't even find time to visit his dying son, couldn't care about his son's death, then he wasn't worth thinking about. So Clark ignored him, even when Lionel actually came over.
"Thank you for coming, although I must say, I'm surprised," Lionel commented.
"Get lost, Luthor," Jonathan Kent growled.
Lionel raised an eyebrow, "I can hardly leave my son's funeral so abruptly, Kent, now can I?"
"Only because it would be bad PR," Martha snapped, putting her arm round her son to guide him away from the billionaire.
Clark managed not to cry during the ceremony, managed not to drop to his knees and beg for Lex to come back to him. But when Lionel dropped the first clod of earth onto the coffin, it was more than he could take. Clark turned and walked away rapidly, tears burning his eyes.
Once out of sight, he ran as fast as he could back to the castle. He knew he shouldn't be there, he didn't care. Clark stripped off his clothes and climbed into the bed. The sheets had been changed so he couldn't smell him, but still, he felt closer to Lex here.
"I miss you," he whispered, "I miss you so much, Lex." Clark cried himself to sleep in Lex's bed.
end