Crush the Flame
By
xXx

Clark sat.

He was the only person here in this quiet place, only the rustling of trees and a stray bird or two interrupting Clark's thoughts.

Minutes, hours, days could have passed as he sat, he wasn't sure; his eyes focused only on the words before him.

But the words were illegible and blurry and his mind a million miles away.

The text in front of him faded further, growing dimmer and dimmer as his memories focused and grew brighter in his mind's eye.

He mentally shook his head, not sure how and when he arrived at this point in time. The past few years feeling like a distant dream. There had been so many things that had happened in his life that ended up leading him straight to...

...here.

Wherever "here" was.

"Here" was in Metropolis... his first year of college. "Here" was finally adulthood. "Here" was... very, very lonely. Clark had thought this was all that he'd ever wanted... grow up, get out of Smallville, be on his own.

"Here" was supposed to be an extension of Smallville, though. With the same hopes and dreams. Family, friends... lovers. Lover.

It would have been, if...

He never dreamed in a million years that "here" would be so cold and desolate.

It hadn't started out that way. Not initially. High school started out with friends and fun and everything that high school was supposed to be. He secretly, then not so secretly, lusted after the town princess, had two best friends in high school and one best, best friend in the form of the town billionaire.

And that friendship was his greatest friendship by far.

Clark squeezed his eyes tight and sighed, dropping his head, chin resting on his chest.

His greatest friendship far and above all else. Nothing could compare... nothing would compare.

Ever again.

Who would have thought that he would allow his father to influence his feeling? Who knew that he would let his friends influence his thoughts?

Who?

He didn't.

In the beginning, he had defended his friend, the town pariah, from those who claimed he was nothing but a miniature version of his father... a bald, youthful version of the billionaire, no less cruel and evil.

It was Clark who knew Lex for who he really was... kind, gentle, no more than a child himself in every way that was important. A boy wanting his father's love. A young man wanting friends. A man wanting to make a name for himself outside his father's influence.

It was the name that Lex couldn't escape. The name that even Clark couldn't escape.

The same name that eventually divided the legendary friendship of Clark Kent and Lex Luthor.

Clark raised his head and stared at the words again. They still did not make sense. For he was not seeing the words before him, but remembering a time four years ago that he and Lex stood in the castle, mere days after he'd saved Lex's life. Soft silver-blue eyes regarded the younger man and with a voice that was softer yet, told Clark that he didn't want anything to stand in the way of their friendship.

Funny how those words would come back to haunt Clark.

At the time, he believed in those words like nothing else in the world. Wrapped them around him like the softest of sweaters. Not even his father's sanctimonious lectures could sway Clark from believing that he and Lex would be best friends forever.

Only, it was his father's words that ended up ripping the seams from the cloak that blanketed their relationship. His father's words and the fear of being caught, found out, discovered.

It was that fear that caused Clark to ultimately confront Lex a few years later, regarding the older boy's supposed knowledge of who and what Clark was.

Clark moaned as the memories washed over him, clutching at the pain in his chest.

The weight that had settled in his heart after their last conversation had grown steadily heavier throughout the years. It was a weight, which he was sure would crush him into a million pieces, much the same way that Clark's accusations had crushed the light in Lex's eyes when Clark accused him of lies, deceits, and betrayals.

If only he had paid attention to what his words were doing as they spewed from his lips.

Of course they say that hindsight is twenty-twenty. And they would be right.

The only clarity in Clark's eyes now was the memory of the flame of light behind Lex's eyes as it slowly extinguished into nothingness.

It flickered much like a candle flame wavers when one is trying to blow it out. Only, as Clark looked back on that final scene, it was much too drawn out and prolonged to be anything but painful and cruel. Now that Clark had time to reflect on his actions, he could clearly see how his words affected Lex.

The light that had shown only for Clark was excruciatingly ripped away with every savage word that heaved from Clark's lips.

Piece by agonizingly small piece, a part of the flame was torn away and brutally, mercilessly rent and shredded slowly and methodically until there was nothing left but a hollowed, blacken hole; dark and empty.

And Clark had no one to blame but himself.

He was old enough to know better. He'd managed to stick up for Lex for the first three years of their friendship. Against the harshest of odds, Clark found a way to tell all those around him that Lex was worthy of their friendship. Why then did his father's words fling from his lips at their last meeting? Was it the three years of his father's diatribe of the Luthor quality? Did his father finally manage to break Clark down to the point that he would listen to his father's bias and not his very own heart?

Clark concentrated, needing to know when his father's words first began to gnaw their way into his head and heart.

Clark gasped.

Could it have been as early as the Spring Fling Tornado? God! Could it have begun that far back? He and Lex hadn't even been friends for a year yet.

But he remembered. It was his father who was worried that Lex would get too close to the truth when they found him and his crew in the field sampling the soil. That on top of Clark finding a piece of the spaceship on Lex's desk started the seeds of doubt for Clark.

Looking back, Clark knew without a doubt that Lex wasn't looking because of Clark but because of himself. Lex needed to know what happened to him when the meteors came. Why he'd changed. Why he was never sick. Why he healed so quickly, much quicker than he used to, much faster than any 'normal' person. Lex thought himself another of Smallville's mutants and wanted to know why.

There was no other reason.

But, Clark allowed his father to persuade him that Lex was being a Luthor through and through and would find out Clark's secrets and eventually use it against all of them.

The seeds of doubt grew over the next few years until Clark could take no more and he confronted Lex, demanding an explanation of his lies and deceits. Feeling betrayed that Lex would not tell him the truth.

Only there were no lies or deceits. There were no untruths. Lex was investigating the meteors and their effects on him personally. Lex didn't need to investigate them because of Clark for he already knew. Had known since almost the beginning. That was why he'd stopped the investigation so long ago. He didn't need to know about Clark. He already knew.

He'd already known. Known all along. The knowledge wasn't as important as their friendship.

Clark can clearly remember looking into Lex's empty expression and realizing his mistake, his ultimate loss. Lex's last words were a quiet, soft, testament to the pain; a pain which replaced the love once in Lex's heart for no one other than Clark.

"Nothing was more important than your friendship, Clark."

Then, slowly, but with purpose, Lex turned his back on Clark and walked out of his office, closing the door quietly behind him.

Clark never saw him again.

After, Clark stood in Lex's office and remembered the day after he rescued Lex from the car crash. Lex told him that he didn't want anything to get in the way of their friendship.

Neither realized that it would be Clark who would eventually get in the way of their own friendship: Clark and his need to be the perfect son.

Clark raised his head and stared again at the words in front of him. They were still blurry and illegible, unreadable for the tears that coursed down Clark's face. Blinking several times, Clark raised his hand and traced the now familiar indented letters across the heavy marble:

ALEXANDER JOSEPH LUTHOR
1980-2005

There were no other words on the marker, no words to prove he was anything in his life other than a name. He was no: BELOVED SON. There were no words of: CHERISHED FRIEND. No, ADMIRED or ESTEEMED or ADORED. Just plain, simple letters marking the passing of just another person.

But, Lex had never been 'just another person' to Clark. He was his best friend, confidante, encourager, advocate, defender... soul mate. Words that Clark had never related to the two of them until it was too late.

And Clark sat.

Finis