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2005-02-03 01:18:54 24.144.44.22 New Roman"'>
But there had
been secrets and lies and Lex was just too smart and Clark was too afraid, and
even though might didn't make everything all right, it did knock unconscious
the one person that really had a chance at figuring out the truth.
And then came
Helen.
Clark wondered
what they did together. He wondered how Lex touched her, because there was no
question that he did.
He thought about
it a lot.
He reinforced
the bed frame after the first few nights. He couldn't seem to find a way to
reinforce the friendship, though.
Maybe there
wasn't any friendship left, not really. He knew now what it was like to be hit,
beaten, so that someone could escape the truth.
How often had he
hit Lex? There was no justification.
Clark wondered
if it were too late.
He listened to
the phone ring.
It was picked up and fumbled, but Lex's voice was alert and
sharp. "Yes?"
"Lex?"
"Clark? What's wrong?" Lex sounded so clear, and
the tone was one that could take him back a few months. Until he heard the
phone muffled and an exchange of murmurs.
Helen.
He heard Lex moving, a swish of fabric, and then,
"Clark what's going on?"
"Lex, do you ever-" He stopped because his voice
was shaking. He huddled down further on the couch and pulled an afgan over his
knees, then took a deep breath before continuing. "Do you ever dream about
what it would be like in hell?"
"It may have crossed my mind in terms of my father's
eternal resting place." Lex answered, his tone gentle in spite of the
sarcasm of his words.
"The fire. It would hurt, you know. Really. The skin
would be blistering and bubbling and the smell - like charred meat, except you
couldn't smell 'cause your nose and lungs would be burning from the inside out.
And-" Clark stopped again. "What kind of people would think up
something like that? "
"People without power, Clark. People who desperately
needed to believe that the wrongs they have experienced in this life would be
addressed in the next." Lex sighed, and Clark could picture him running a
hand over his scalp. "Religion wasn't called the opiate of the masses
entirely without reason. What's got you thinking about this?" Lex was so
casual. Like Clark called him in the middle of the night with angsty
metaphysical questions all the time.
"Liars go to hell, don't they Lex?" Clark
whispered. "And faithless friends, there's a special place for them, I
bet."
"Dante has several different kinds of punishments
depending on the kind of lying and who you lied to. Not all of it is fire.
There's ice, manacles, and even less pleasant things." Lex paused and
lowered his voice, "Clark, what brought this on?"
The house was quiet. Clark could hear his mother's breathing
upstairs and his father's snores. If he focused carefully he could hear the
baby's heart beat. Loud and strong and human.
"Is there a place in hell for aliens, Lex?"
The baby's heartbeat filled the night for several seconds.
"Is this an academic question, Clark?"
Clark chuckled; at least he thought it was a chuckle, until
he realized he couldn't stop.
"Clark? Clark!"
"It's okay, Lex. I'm okay. It's just that-" Clark
took deep breaths and fingered the afghan, remembering when his mother had made
it three winters ago when it had been especially snowy and they'd all been shut
up in the house. "They burned me, Lex. They threw me in a furnace, and my
skin was melting, and I couldn't see and I couldn't breath, and I thought I was
going to die."
"Clark, can you get out of the house? How soon can you
be here?"
"Walk to the front door, Lex."
There was hardly a breeze to disturb the house as Clark sped
to the mansion. He arrived just as the front door opened.
Lex's eyes were wide and more black than blue; he was in
sweats and a long sleeved T-shirt.
"I don't want to burn, Lex."
"Clark-"
But Clark didn't want to wait.