Similis

The factory was at the edge of nowhere and clearly not as empty as it was supposed to be.



"Get that gate open." Lex ordered.



"I have orders to let no one in, sir." The man told him.



"You do recognise me?" Lex snapped, thinking it was about time to take advantage of his heritage. "You ought to, since that is my company uniform that you are wearing. Now open up."



"As you wish, sir." The man moved aside, pulling the gates smoothly apart. In the yard beyond, a black stretch limousine gleamed in the sunlight. Following them into the yard, he locked the doors again, before climbing into the limousine.



A second man, this one with red hair, lounged idly against the hood, watching them. Fixing them with a meaningful stare, he slid a pistol from inside his jacket and began to lightly polish the outside of it with a clean white handkerchief.



Apparently it's not going to be anywhere near as easy to get out, at least not with every part intact. Given his recent history, Lex found that that thought was not an especially encouraging one.



"Well?" He turned to his silent companion for inspiration. "Haze?"



Swallowing hard, Haze opened his eyes and glanced around. He looked positively nauseous.



"He IS here, isn't he?"



Haze blinked and took a deep breath. He nodded curtly.



"But by the look of you, only just." There was a moment's hesitation, and then Haze gestured rapidly.



"What?" The series of lithe movements were too cryptic even for Lex's quick brain, especially as he was dividing his attention between looking around for signs of Clark, watching Haze, and at the same time keeping a wary eye on that gun.







Haze repeated the pattern, more slowly, and this time, Lex caught on.



"Clark's surrounded by meteor rocks. Wherever he is, he's lying flat, on his back, on carpet. He can see sunlight on either side of him, but he can't move." Lex paused for thought. "You can tell that much?"



From the dark look on Haze's face, Lex decided that he really didn't want to know what else Haze could tell. He only hoped that Haze could also damp down whatever he was receiving from Clark. Otherwise this was going to be a very one-sided, and probably rather short-lived confrontation.



"I don't expect any personal details right now." He told Haze, "But I'm not letting either of you face this alone."



Nodding, Haze flung the door open and unfolded himself from the front seat of the Jaguar. Rolling his neck, he cracked the bones in his spine back into alignment and started forward.



"Would I be right in guessing that they still have him in the back of their limo?"



That seemed to be a fairly accurate assumption. Lex decided that his own skills at interpreting 'Haze-speak' weren't too shabby either.



"You stay here, Haze, and keep looking the other way, so they don't recognise you." He insisted. "Let them think that you are just another one of my security people, and leave me to handle this for the moment. Take a minute or two to pull yourself together, but angle yourself so you can use the car mirrors to keep watching me. If I can't persuade them to let me get to Clark then you'll have to step in and help."



Haze's curt nod told him that he would accept Lex's orders, at least for the moment. Lex felt a shiver pass through him. He suspected that Clark would not be in a good way by now. Would Haze be able to handle that?



As he strolled across the deserted yard, Lex reflected that despite the recent revelations, he still did not really know Who, or maybe What, Haze was. Or what that might make Clark?







"I believe you have something of interest to me inside that car." Lex glared meaningfully at the gun﷓toting hireling. "I want to see it."



"Sorry, Mr Luthor. No can do. I have my instructions. Nothing gets in or out of the back of that car until my superior says so." He crossed his ankles and leant back with studied nonchalance. "I don't advise you attempt anything … ambitious, sir. I know my job."



Lex contemplated the distance between his knee and the other man's vulnerable parts. But there was always the gun to consider, and he knew a mercenary when he saw one. "Where is my father?" He snapped instead, drawing on a lifetime of practiced arrogance to hide his unease.



"I was told that Mr Luthor Senior is on his way. He should be here in an hour." Came the cool response.



"Not good enough." Lex told him. "I want to see the merchandise now." He positively itched to wipe that smug smirk of the man's face with something metallic, and permanent. "I want to inspect certain conditions for myself." He said tersely. "It will be no good to my father or anyone else if the merchandise is dead on delivery."



"Best I can do." The mercenary replied. "One hour. You'll just have to wait … Sir."



A sudden hiss of indrawn breath sounded from beside them. Instinctively, the mercenary glanced toward the sound. He gulped, eyes going oddly blank.



What the? Lex stared at the thin red line that had suddenly appeared around the other man's throat. Is that blood?



While Lex stared, with shocking abruptness he saw the line open into a yawning gap.



Oh my god! Right in front of Lex the mercenary's head neatly parted company from his neck, coming to land with a hollow thud directly in front of the still-crossed ankles.



Hastily swallowing back on the sudden surge of bile, Lex tensed. How he managed not to vomit he would never know. Even LuthorCorp's extensive executive emergency training could not be expected to fully prepare a person for the reality of seeing a newly made headless corpse standing only inches in front of them.



For an instant Lex had a brief impression of Haze, moving off at speed from behind the dead man.



How the hell did Haze do that? But Lex didn't have time to ask. The mercenaries obviously recognised trouble when it came hurrying up to greet them. The car engine roared into life, leaving the remainder of the corpse teetering in front of Lex, until the forward acceleration dislodged it from the hood and sent it tumbling onto the ground. Thankfully this time the engine noise muffled the attendant impact.



Startled, Lex jumped back, recovering his wits just in time to realise that this particular vehicle was not going to be moving very far after all and that he had also resolved the question of where his unusual ally was now.



Haze was leaning over the back of the limousine, both hands sunk deeply into the crumpled bodywork, straining slightly as he lifted the entire rear section clear of the ground. Evidently he was not going to let the car go anywhere without him.



How is that even possible? Lex stared. Adrenaline rush?







With one mighty heave, the youth yanked the rear fender up to shoulder level, poising it there for a second before reversing his hold and smashing the entire back-end down into the ground with such force that the concrete around the vehicle buckled and shattered.



Fully twelve feet away Lex stumbled, nearly losing his balance as the floor beneath him shuddered from the impact.



Note to self: never piss Haze off!



With a final scream of metal the car gave up the ghost, even the limo's expensive beefed-up suspension proving insufficient to withstand a direct attack from the infuriated youth.



Panicked, the driver broke out of the front section of the car in a frantic bid to escape. A dark shape shot across the yard. Caught in mid-stride by the sudden arrival of the larger portion of his former colleague, the running man was flung forward and slammed down by the extra weight; his forehead impacting heavily with the cracked concrete beneath him.







Cautiously Lex edged over and took a quick look, and then relaxed just a notch. Judging by the rapidly spreading pool of blood, yet another part of their current problem had just been effectively and permanently dealt with. For a second he felt more than a little superfluous.



Ignoring the door handle and latching his fingers directly around the edge of the open window, Haze tore the car door out of its mounting and flung it off to the side. Two of the kidnappers were still inside. Both had large, wicked looking knives, and both looked as though they would enjoy the chance to use them.



Despite the more conventional threat, it was the car floor that drew Lex's attention. Ducking, he moved until he judged himself to be positioned safely beyond reach of either blade. Stopping, he stared anxiously through the yawning gap at his best friend. "Clark! We're here!" He called with growing urgency. "Clark?"



In the phosphorescence light of the meteor rocks, Clark's entire body glowed a sickly green. The youth lay deathly still; eyes shut tight, breathing clearly laboured.



The detached scientific observer part of Lex's mind wondered idly what had been done to the rocks to make them glow like that? For a second he assumed that Clark was already unconscious, or maybe worse, until the teen cracked open his eyes and inched toward the door.



Noticing the movement, the man beside Clark immediately landed a heavy kick in the boy's ribs, knocking Clark back down onto the shining stones. Gasping in fresh agony, Clark went abruptly limp.







"We have to get him out of there, Haze!" Lex worried, finding Haze reappearing at his elbow. "Any way in around the other side?" He wondered. Haze shook his head.



"And I suppose that you aren't knife proof?" Lex looked at the numerous red streaks already appearing over his companion's exposed skin. Haze was unnaturally strong, but apparently he could be cut just like the next man, and this time the next man happened to be Lex…



"I don’t see how we are even going to get close?" Lex confessed. "I'm no more knife proof than you, and right now it doesn't look as if Clark is particularly invulnerable either, despite the rumours."



It was a definite problem. Lex was desperate to rescue Clark, but rushing headlong into the confined space would be more like suicide.



"We need to reduce the numbers." He decided, "But how? They have weapons and we don't." He took a look around, hoping to find something that he could turn into a weapon. The yard was as empty as a banker's conscience.







Haze suddenly came to some inner decision. Bounding up onto the roof of the car he knelt, head tilted and fist cocked, closing his eyes in concentration.



What is he doing? Lex stared as Haze's fist inched forward, then to the right as if centring on one precise spot.



As Haze struck downwards, Lex tried not to gape in surprise as he watched the clenched fist plunge in through the roof, pile driving down onto the man in the back seat with a sickening crunch.



Leaping back down on the far side of the car, Haze winced and rubbed at his shoulder with evident discomfort. He had given them an advantage, but it had come at no small cost to himself.







The last man on the other team had apparently recognised the need for a change of tactics. Looking out of the car door he met Lex's eyes with a cruel grin.



"Impressive, but martial arts can only do so much. You should really think about calling your man off, Mr Luthor." He warned, "I have something you want, and you're in a position to offer me something in return."



Lex noted the point of the knife resting tight beneath Clark's chin, the unconscious teen lolling in his captor's arms.



"Let's negotiate?" Lex suggested. "I get the boy back intact, and you get a way out of here." He slipped his hands in his coat pocket to conceal the tell tale tremble.



"That's about what I was thinking. However, one wrong move by you, or your friend out there, and this kid gets a second smile." The man warned. "So where do you suggest we start?"



"How about here?" Lex suggested, schooling himself not to react to the flicker of peripheral movement.







Appearing as if from out of nowhere, Haze jerked the kidnapper's arm up and away from Clark; at the same time he slammed a knee into the blonde's unprotected kidneys, forcing the man to drop his bargaining chip.



Seeing his chance, Lex dashed in, brushing the loose stuff off of Clark, and trying to haul him to his feet. While Lex had always admired Clark's muscular build, he suddenly found that it was not such a wonderful thing when Clark was not in active control of it.



What do they feed this boy on? Lead? Struggling for his own breath, Lex tried for a better grip.



"I'm going to kill you both real slow for that." Their opponent promised, pulling himself up from the floor with a grunt.



Glancing up, Lex anxiously watched Haze trying regain his feet while shielding himself from the slashing knife. With the cramped space inside the car, it was no easy task, and it was equally evident to Lex that Haze was hurting, and that his uncanny companion was finally beginning to tire.



"How many more of you freaks are there?" The blonde man was screaming, having finally gained a clear look at Haze. "It doesn't matter though! I got the cure for all of you!" Grabbing up a handful of the glowing rocks, he began flinging them at the attacking youth while waving his knife arm menacingly.







Lex hoped fervently that vulnerability to the green stones was one similarity that Haze did not share with Clark.



But even if the rocks don't affect him, how long can Haze possibly keep this up? Lex continued to ponder the problem, all the while simultaneously inching two tons of unconscious farm boy a little nearer to freedom. Given the way that things seemed to be panning out, he had no time for second thoughts. He would have to trust that Clark's mysterious 'twin' could protect them all for as long as they needed.



Finally! Finding firm ground beneath him, Lex consolidated his footing and tugged harder.



"No you don't, you're not having him!" Came the menacing growl. The rescue attempt had finally been detected.



Even as he managed to work Clark's shoulders past the edge of the car door, Lex was treated to a terrifyingly close view of a shining knife blade lunging toward them. He was not sure in that instant, whether he was the target, or whether Clark was first on the man's list, but both Lex's hands were still fully occupied, and this time Clark was in no condition to save anyone.



"Haze!" Lex yelled, suddenly nervous.







It was always going to be a lot easier to push than to pull, and given the confined space, Lex could tell that Haze was not finding it easy to keep his furious opponent at bay. He also realised that while Haze might not be vulnerable to the kryptonite in the same way as Clark, the dark haired youth was no better protected from having hard objects flung in his face than anyone else. Those wounds had to hurt like crazy! Blood dripped rapidly from a deep cut on one temple, and the previous shoulder injury was visibly slowing Haze down.



"Haze!" Lex called urgently to his ally. "Any closer and he'll slice Clark open!"



As the knife glinted, catching the light, Haze seemed to rally. Watching in awe, Lex saw the muscles in Haze's arms contract. Moving with incredible speed, the youth locked one large hand around their opponent's throat, yanking him off balance, away from Lex and Clark and back into Haze's reach.



Lex felt a chill tease through him: as Haze had made contact with the man's skin the youth's normally placid expression vanished, instantly replaced by something positively deadly.



Reaching down onto the carpeted floor, Haze grubbed up a convenient handful of meteor rock. Closing down hard on the rocks, he squeezed, spilling a cloud of rock particles from between his fingers. Even as he thrust the handful of powder into the other man's face, he was already scrabbling round for another handy chunk, and finding one, forced that into the gaping mouth too.



It was dirty fighting, but it worked. Blinded, and choking, the man dropped the knife and began gagging and pawing at his face.



Clamping his broad hands on either side of the man's head Haze twisted hard, throwing all of his body weight behind it.







The sound of a neck snapping proved to be remarkably like chopping lettuce. Lex made a hasty mental note to have raw salad vegetables taken off the menu at the mansion for the next week or so. Now that he had Clark out in the open, he was able to take a couple of seconds to get a better look at Clark. The teen lay heavy in his arms, gasping for breath.



Carefully setting Clark down on the sun warmed concrete, Lex hurriedly brushed away as much of the dust and meteor debris as he could from his friend. "What if he inhaled any of it?" He found himself wondering out loud. "We have to get him to a hospital." Apparently that was not the most popular idea he had ever had. Haze was abruptly right in front of him. Looking Lex directly in the eyes, Haze shook his head.



"I know we promised Martha and Jonathan to bring him back to them. I still intend to do that." Lex assured his ally. "But they would want us to get treatment for Clark first."



The dark head shook again.



"Haze, we have to get Clark to a hospital, I think you should both get treatment. You know I can get the best doctors for Clark, don't you?"



The hand that wrapped around Lex's wrist was gentle but firm, and while there was not the least hint of violence in the weary gaze, Lex couldn't help but recall Haze's nearly-reflexive actions. He began to wonder at the logic of resisting on this one?



Incredulously he watched as the last of the deep gouges over Haze's eye sealed without a trace. The cuts on Clark's wrist closed up as Haze's fingers traced along them.



Haze glanced at Lex, his expression neutral, but his stance wary.



Lex sighed. Maybe hospital wasn't one of his better suggestions? "Yeah, okay, you win." He was about to try to help move Clark, but Haze was already lifting his 'twin'. Haze looked exhausted, but determined, and he was bigger than Lex, quite a lot bigger in fact.



Better part of valour, etc… Clark needed help and none of them would be safe if they were found here when company arrived. Lex nodded at the urgent tug on his sleeve. Haze seemed about ready to simply commandeer the car and head off back to the Kent's without him. Lex really did not want it to come to that, he was aware that Lionel would not allow familial connections to soften his fury, and crappy as it might be at times he remained rather fond of his life. To cap it all, he wasn't at all sure if Haze could even drive a stick shift, and this did not seem to be the ideal time to start finding out. Not with Clark so vulnerable.



"Yeah, you're right, Haze, let's get him home."



* * * *



"Hold on, Clark…" Lex whispered, fingers stroking across the back of Clark's hand. "Stay with us".



Before leaving the yard, Lex had reclined the front passenger seat, explaining to Haze that this was so that they could lay Clark at a slight slope to reduce the pressure on his lungs.



It had been readily apparent to Lex that Haze had been practically out on his feet once the adrenaline rush wore off. That extra strength and speed had come at a heavy cost and Haze had started visibly paying for it as soon as the threat had been neutralised.



Although the last of the surface damage to both youths had vanished while Haze had carried Clark to the car, it seemed that the same process wasn't going to be able to manage the internal damage to Clark. Looking like one of the living dead by that point, Haze had reluctantly agreed to rest in the back, after making Lex promise to shout for him if things went badly.



Assuring Haze that he was perfectly able to keep a peripheral eye on Clark while driving, Lex had agreed to that arrangement, while hoping that it would not be necessary, and while also hoping that having a killer in the back seat would not prove as hazardous to his own health as it just had to the men who had abducted Clark. Although at that point, having a cranky Haze asleep in the back of his car certainly seemed less of a risk than having him awake and fretting for most of the journey…







While Lex had been busy with adjusting the seat and settling Clark as comfortably as possible, Haze had moved off, returning a few minutes later and miming that they should leave ... now.



Disinclined to argue, or to investigate amongst a heap of corpses, Lex had given his strange companion the benefit of the doubt, promising himself that he would make the necessary arrangements to have a very discreet specialist clean-up crew sent in later.



Most of the journey had been spent in near-silence, with Haze lying flat out on the rear seat. Lex had yet to decide whether Haze had been awake or asleep the whole time, but the other youth had remained unnervingly still, until somewhere along the road between Smallville and the mansion, he had roused by himself.



Currently Haze was perched awkwardly on the very edge of the rear seat, hunched over Clark. The sound of the engine droned in through the insulation, but now that they were down to the last mile, the loudest sound by far was the tortured rasp of Clark fighting for air. Lex fervently hoped that he would never again be as scared in his life as he currently was.



"Breathe Clark … Just keep breathing ..." He whispered.



Haze lent in close over Clark, looking stronger than he had prior to leaving the yard, but no less anxious.



Lex shivered at the memory of CPR and a cold, wet, riverbank.







After what seemed more like centuries than hours, Lex was able to bring the car safely to a skidding halt in the gravel outside the front door of the mansion.



Together the two of them hurriedly pulled Clark from the front seat, folding him into Haze's waiting arms.



Running up the steps, Lex fumbled for the key, only to find the door already opening for him and Jonathan and Martha Kent waiting.



"How is he?" Jonathan demanded.





"Bad." Lex answered, while Haze lifted Clark as if he weighed nothing.



To Lex's surprise, Haze seemed to be heading for the garden. "Where are you taking him, Haze? Clark needs medical attention." Lex followed the pair along the corridor. "I only brought him here because you insisted on my not taking him to a hospital."



"Hospital!" At the soft mutter from Jonathan, Lex spun and faced the anxious man.



"Mr Kent, I know you don't like me, but Clark urgently needs medical treatment, and we have some equipment here. I also know a reliable and discreet medic. I can have him flown here in under twenty minutes, if you'll let me?"



"The man who treats you?" Martha asked, holding up a hand to her husband.



"Yes. I'm asking you… In fact I'm begging you," Lex looked at her. "Please don't let Clark die just to protect whatever this secret is!"



"Haze won't let that happen." Jonathan interrupted. "We trust him to do whatever's necessary, and you'll have to as well, Lex. I know you don’t understand, but you will. We'll have to be quick though, Clark is getting weaker by the second."



Bemused, Lex followed, frantic to help his friend, but not quite sure how.



"We'll help Lex afterwards…" Martha was telling Haze.



Nodding, the youth smiled at her.



"Go on, Sweetheart," Martha patted Haze's arm tenderly. "We'll be right here. For both of you." She promised him.







Stopping in a sheltered area of the back lawn Haze held Clark in his arms. Looking over beyond the nearby path he gestured with the tips of his fingers. Silently a long stone bench rose into the air. Floating above the grass the bench settled back down to rest at Haze's feet.



Good Lord! He … just made that move all by itself! While Lex stared and pondered the casual way in which Haze had dealt with relocating the heavy bench, the dark-haired youth was setting the unconscious Clark gently down on the flat surface. Sitting down, Haze tugged his own boots off and began to pull his socks off as well.



"I'm taking a gamble on this, but I'm guessing that you've seen Haze do this sort of thing before?" Lex suggested.



"We have." Jonathan told him. "Haze will be very vulnerable after this. Healing seems to really put a strain on him, and we don't really know if he has recovered properly from his own injuries."



"But we'll be right here, for both of them." Martha promised, "Whatever happens."



Haze nodded.



"They'll need to rest together… after, and it would help if they were somewhere sunny, oh, and warm..." Martha took up the conversation again.



"If it all goes the same as last time, Clark should be sleeping normally by then." She added. "It's hard to be sure about Haze, he is more different than he looks. Actually, we don't know if he does sleep…"



Lex nodded, having been privy to at least some of those differences.



"How fascinating…" A dry voice purred. "An actual public confession."







"Dad!" Lex whirled to find his father standing only a few inches away.



"I found that someone was prying into LuthorCorp computer files, and decided to come and see for myself why my son would be so interested in my affairs? Imagine my surprise when I chanced on this touching little family scene… Would someone like to offer an explanation?"



"Not now." Jonathan's voice cut across the ominous silence.



Haze had pulled off his shirt while Lionel was talking, and now stood bare-chested and grim-faced in the mid afternoon sun. He signed quickly.



"There's no time. Haze says he doesn't care what Lionel sees. Clark is close to dying and we can't let that happen." Jonathan stated. "Do what you like with the information, Lionel… it doesn't matter to us. But keep out of the way while Haze works or I'll finish you myself."







Digging his naked toes into the soft grass, Haze indicated that he was ready. Crouching beside the bench he tugged Clark's shirt up, exposing the base of the other boy's ribs. Ominous greenish-black lines pulsed under Clark's skin.



With his fingers spaced evenly apart on Clark's bare flesh, Haze tilted his head back so that he was looking toward the sky, and opened his mouth. No sound came out, but as Haze mouthed the shapes of words, a sudden breeze sprang up, circling around the pair. The grass blades glinted in the sunlight, flattening slightly as the passing air kneaded them down.



Haze released another silent breath, and something definitely flowed from him, strands of dust rose from the nearest flowerbed and snaked through the air, trailing purposefully toward the moving circle of grass. Elsewhere all was still.



Haze mouthed again, and the dust sprinkled tightly down over Clark, painting the stricken youth's skin with a crude geometric triangle. An electric hush settled over the enclosed garden.



Haze turned his head, looking toward the nearby swimming pool. At his silent command, the surface of the pool began to silently seethe. Curls of spray writhed, dancing along the glistening surface.



At Haze's next string of silent words, Clark's skin came alive with eerie dark fire. Sparking and crackling, the flames licked up to Haze's wrists but Haze showed no sign of withdrawing. Instead he pressed his hands more tightly to Clark, the tips of the flames flickered up around his elbows. Slowly the unnatural flares broke away from Haze, pooling at his wrists, before gradually draining back down to soak over Clark.







Time ticked by in grudging increments, three minutes, four. Haze had begun to sweat. Tiny rivulets trailed down into the waistband of his jeans, darkening the fabric. His hands visibly trembled.



All along Clark's body clear patches broke through as areas of the flame sputtered then died.



Haze visibly forced himself upright again. Leaning closer, he drew in a panting breath. Determined, he commanded again, and once more the tiny sparks obediently re-ignited in a fresh glowing blanket of dark fire, only to sink again as Haze's fatigue resurfaced. Hunching his shoulders, Haze shuddered, panting with the sheer effort of what he was attempting. Lifting his perfect face to the sky, he stared imploringly up into the empty air.



The sunlight dimmed abruptly, clouds suddenly appearing high in the blue. Shadows shimmied along the borders of the garden, reaching greedily toward the two youths.



Dark wings unfolded from Haze's back, flaring out, catching the hints of sun and reflecting them back in a blackberry glow.



For a second the mortal World seemed to hold its breath. Haze 'spoke' and this time the lights that formed his 'words' hung in the still air glowing faintly.



Around Clark, the flames sprang up again, but after only a few seconds they were already sputtering out.



Haze's wings dipped, his shoulders hunched in misery. Resting his head onto his 'twin', he gathered the limp form into his arms, panting in exhaustion but visibly martialling his strength ready to try again.



"Clark…" Martha whispered. "Oh, Jonathan, what if we lose them both?! Haze is trying so hard, but what if he can't do it alone! What will this do to him?"



While the Kent's hugged each other in horror, and Lionel stared in open fascination at the strange events unfolding, another mind was made up.







"You're not alone." Lex promised, stepping carefully between the outstretched wings and resting one palm on each of Haze's shoulders. "If I can help, Haze, I will. Take whatever you need." As their flesh met, light burst out of Lex, surrounding them both in a glowing nimbus.



Haze's wings glistened magnificently in the warm glow that poured from Lex. Gently he released his desperate hold on Clark, settling the other boy back delicately down on the flat stone. For the third time the flames sprang up, cocooning Clark.



Ignoring the blaze, Lex closed his eyes and concentrated. The flames were not for him and, like Haze, he barely knew they were there. Pressing his legs closer to Haze, resting his palms directly onto the broad back, he lent his strength to Haze, feeling the glorious youth gratefully respond.



The angel's wing tips rose. The flames around his hands sprang higher. Growing in strength, hissing and spitting, the conflagration ate away the green flecks from Clark.



"Keep going!" Lex encouraged. "Keep going, Haze! Drain me dry if you have to, but save him!"



Nodding, the angel stretched, wings pointing directly upwards, framing the pair with midnight sails.



Sections of the flames began to change colour, the dark purple giving way to violet, then lavender, and finally fading to a soft rose pink.



"We're doing it, aren't we?" Lex murmured, tightening his fingers on the angel's broad shoulders. He felt his own energy reserves begin to dwindle.



With a firm nod Haze bent toward Clark.



Looking at the pair of youths, Lex understood that the underlying injuries were still there… It suddenly occurred to him that simply cleansing Clark of the meteor particles might not be the only requirement.



"Something more to come?" Lex whispered.



Nodding, Haze raised one hand and gently lifted Lex's fingers from his shoulder.



"And you have to do this without me?" Lex supposed. "But you can restore him?"



Haze seemed to be confident that he could.



"Is it okay if I stand here?" he asked. The soft shrug indicated that he would be safe enough where he was, so Lex stayed put.



Drawing himself up, Haze tensed, letting himself open to the energy that flowed unseen through the world around them. A torus of pure white light pulsed out from Haze's hands, flooding the entire area with an intense brilliance.



As it passed outwards, running through him, Lex felt his entire body respond to the implicit command. The slight ache in his back faded, his tired muscles reviving. Just what WAS that? And where could he get some more?







Clark coughed and stirred, turning restlessly. To Lex's immense relief his young friend's tanned skin was unmarked, and once more a healthy light golden colour.



A tremor shivered through Haze, quivering his wings out of sight, he attempted to rise; only to collapse back.



Lex's arms were waiting for him. "I've got you, Haze…" Lex told him, letting the dark head loll against his chest. Haze's eyes were closed, and for a second Lex wondered if he were even breathing?



As he knelt there, supporting Haze's weight with his upper body, Lex finally felt Haze give a soft sigh. Gently Lex brought both hands up, and stroked the pale cheeks, encouraged to find a faint hint of colour returning to the relaxed features. It occurred to him that this was a moment he could have enjoyed more, and definitely for longer, had there been a lot fewer witnesses.



With Jonathan and Martha carrying Clark, Lex reluctantly allowed his father to assist him in carrying Haze into the house.



Settling both convalescents together in the sunny conservatory, Lex set about arranging food, beds upstairs, plus a little additional insurance against 'acts of Lionel'.



* * * * *



A second hour was nearly over by the time Clark came awake, and while the overjoyed Kent's were fussing quietly over him, Haze continued to drowse at Clark's side, shifting from time to time.



"Lex." Lionel stepped up close, for hours he had lurked in the fringes, watching his son with open amazement, now finally he spoke. "What did you do? And how…?"



"I think we have both just found all the proof we need that I am another of the 'meteor freaks', Dad." Lex looked calmly at his father. "I have never done anything like that before, and I probably still couldn't even attempt it without Haze, but I wasn't going to let either of my friends down."



Lionel nodded gravely. "I'm proud of you, son." He said with careful deliberation. "I don't suppose that you will believe that, but I wanted you to hear it nonetheless." He looked over at Haze. "Is he also one of the meteor mutants?"



"No. Haze is … different."



"And Clark?"



Lex shrugged. "I am still waiting to find out." It wasn't quite a lie, and while suspicions were one thing, Lex had yet to determine the complete truth and he wanted very much to hear it from Clark's own lips.



"Then we should be able to have a very interesting conversation with these two young men, when they are ready." Lionel decided.



"They may not want to talk to you, Lionel." Martha looked up from checking on Clark.



"I realise that, however I am hoping that we can all make a fresh start." Lionel replied.



"Why? We have no reason to trust you, and every reason not to." Jonathan reminded him.



Lionel straightened his back and looked Jonathan in the eye. "Because you have no choice."



"And neither do I." Lex slipped the pistol from his pocket and aimed it directly at his father. "I won't let you ruin this, Dad."



"Good work Lex." Lionel smiled. "You are finally learning how to ensure that you get what you want. Of course, keeping it may prove to be a little more difficult. Unless you intend to murder me in front of witnesses …"



"With the added benefit of knowing all the while that this little scenario is also being meticulously recorded at a secure and rather remote location?" The elder Luthor added, almost as an afterthought. "Which would leave the Kent's implicated in the whole thing, should they even consider not immediately reporting you to the authorities."



Stretching, Haze opened his eyes and gave Lex a sweetly lopsided smile. He gestured with one hand at his ear, before spreading his fingers open in an explosive movement.



Once again Lex was reminded of Haze's uncanny awareness of his surroundings. With that single gesture Haze had made it quite clear to Lex that somehow Haze had blown all of the recording devices that might have been hidden in the mansion.



"Haze says we aren't being recorded!" Lex chuckled in pure delight. "Outmanoeuvred again, eh Dad? Should feel pretty familiar by now!"



Lionel stared at them through narrowed eyes. "You couldn't have found them all."



"Dad, you have just been told by a genuine Angel. Rains of fire, parting of the seas, all that wrathful God stuff." Lex reminded him. "Do you really want bet your life that Haze might be wrong?"



* * * * *



"You really want to tell them?" Clark sat on the sofa beside Lex, looking and sounding decidedly uncomfortable about whatever Haze had just signed to him, but as Haze continued to regard him patiently, Clark shrugged. "Okay. Then I'll tell them whatever you want me to say. I just don't like it."



Crouching by Clark's feet, Haze squeezed his 'twin' lightly on the knee.



"Yeah, I know that you think it'll be alright." Clark said softly. "But I've already seen what Lionel Luthor is capable of." He pulled himself together and waited for Haze to begin.



Standing up, Haze signed confidently and looked to Clark.



"Haze says that he's uncomfortable with lying, and he won't be involved in any. If he doesn't want you to know something, he just won't tell you about it." Clark relayed. "And before he starts, he needs to check a few things." His eyes widened. "You want to do what?" He gulped. "Okay… Uhm, Haze wants to touch you, each of you."



"He wants what?" Lionel was sitting on one of the chairs. Not that he had a choice, with his wrists bound firmly to the chair arms.



Lex was sitting across from his father, in his office chair, the gun lying within easy reach on the desktop.



"And if we refuse?" Lionel pressed.



"I don't think Haze is going to take 'no' for an answer, Mr Luthor." Clark suggested. "But he only wants to touch his hand to your hand for a minute, I'm sure you can put up with that?"



The glare that Lionel gave made Clark squirm.



"Well, I don't see what harm it would do." Jonathan said suddenly. "I'm sure that Haze isn't going to do anything unpleasant to any of us."



"I don't mind either." Martha added.



"I can't see why Haze feels that it's necessary, but I don't object." Lex watched his father. "I've shaken hands with a lot worse people than Haze over the last few years. How about you, Dad?"



For a second, Lionel wondered if he was being not-so subtly insulted, however his pride would not allow him to seem weak in front of these people. Luthor's were not weak. "Very well." He agreed reluctantly.



Bypassing Clark, Haze knelt in front of Martha first, and took her left hand in his. Smiling, he let her go, and then repeated the process with Jonathan. Moving round to Lionel, he placed his palm against Lionel's and waited for a second before releasing him again. Lex held out his hand to Haze, enjoying the warm press of flesh against his. No one else in the room noticed the quick wink that Haze gave him, before ending the contact.



"Haze says that each of you has been …" Clark frowned in confusion "Why DID you heal them? They weren't sick, were they?" He blinked. "Oh."



"Clark?" Lex prompted, wondering why his friend had suddenly gone quiet.



"Haze says that my mom is fine." Clark sounded unnerved. Martha held more tightly onto Jonathan, obviously fearing bad news.



Lex waited. What was Clark so anxious about?



"All the damage in Dad's heart has repaired fully and he's going to be okay from now on." Clark said, pulling himself together. "And Lionel's liver is fine."



"Dad?" Lex looked at his father.



"My what?" Lionel sat up straight and took notice.



"The damage to your liver is gone." Clark told him. "Haze says that the cells that were breaking down are stable now." He stared at Lionel. "You were trying the same treatment that you gave to Adam and Garrett, weren't you?"



"How could either of you know about that?" Lionel was amazed.



"Oh, I already knew about it. And about what was going on in the secret lab." Clark said sharply. "But this is about what Haze has done, and he wants me to tell you that there's a catch to you being healed."



"There always is." Lionel retorted. "What does Haze want? Money?" He raised a cynical eyebrow. "Assuming this whole ridiculous fabrication to be true. How much?"



Clark laughed aloud. "Money?" He and Haze shared a moment's amusement. "No, Haze isn't interested in money, but he does want you to understand that the effects of this healing will only last as long as he wants to keep them running for. If Haze should lose interest in keeping you alive, then you start dying again, Mr Luthor. He won't have to DO anything but you'll still be just as dead."







"Effective." Lex approved as Haze unfastened the bonds around Lionel's arms.



Staring up at Haze, Lionel accepted a bottle of water from Lex without comment. Drinking down the cool liquid he felt a little better, as he gradually came to terms with the shock of what he had just learned. Hearing that he was actually going to live was turning out to be no less traumatic than being advised of his impending demise. He hoped that this prognosis was no less accurate than the last.



"So, Dad, no lab experiments with Haze?" Lex suggested. “Or Clark?”



"It would seem inadvisable." Lionel agreed. "Haze, how long does this healing last for?"



"Haze says that he didn't intend to affect anyone except me, but he wasn't able to direct it so it ended up with you all getting some. Even so the healing is still perfectly effective, and you should have at least as long to live as anyone else your age, if you keep to a healthy life-style, Mr Luthor." The tone of Clark's voice implied that he didn't much care one way or the other.



"Oh, and if you do lose Haze's protection then you'll also experience severe withdrawal symptoms, adding to the strain on your body." He added. "Haze reckons that having that happen would increase the rate of deterioration quite substantially…"



"How substantially?" Lionel's eyes narrowed.



"Depending on how much older you are when you lose his protection, it could more than double the previous rate of decline." Clark told him.



"How long did you have left, Dad?" For once, Lex actually sounded interested in hearing the answer.



Lionel frowned. "Approximately two months."



"You'd better learn to be nice then…" Lex suggested, sipping his drink delicately. "Very nice, in fact. After all, you never know what Haze might find annoying…?"



Recovering his poise slightly, Lionel decided that perhaps it would be prudent to re-evaluate his plans for the long-term future, now that he seemed set to have one again. "So what are you, Haze?" He asked. "You are certainly special, and you seem too stable to be a typical meteor mutant? Rather like your brother, in fact…"



Haze shrugged.



"Haze says you already know as much as he is willing to tell you." Clark said firmly. "In fact neither of us wants to answer any more questions about who or what we are, or what we can or can't do."



The silent youth rested a reassuring arm around Clark's shoulder.



"And Haze would also like you to know that he really would not appreciate you acting against me, or my parents either. Not in any way…" Clark added.



"Naturally." Lionel sighed. "I suppose you can both understand why I would be curious though?"



"And I suppose you could understand why we would both think that that would be a bad idea?" Clark's eyes narrowed meaningfully. "And why any further research into either of us would be very unwelcome?"



Lionel had not gotten to the top of the tree without being able to read people, and neither youth seemed at all willing to compromise on this. "Very well. Assuming that a full recovery is verified by my own physicians, who will no doubt be all too pleased to claim any credit in this for themselves, I will permanently discontinue any and all actions or investigations against either of you, including the senior Kent's. At least for as long as my new health continues to hold out." He promised.



"I think that would be very wise," Martha said softly, "Jonathan and I would hate to have to help Lex come to terms with your death, Lionel." She smiled.



"You would help him, wouldn't you?" Lionel said nothing further, but he heard the unspoken implications.



"Oh, yes." Martha nodded. "It would be our duty as neighbours."



And he knew they meant it. The blasted too-good Kent's would step up willingly and help Lex, and at the same time, they would cheerfully encourage his heirs to undo everything Lionel had ever worked for, the very instant he was out of the picture.



Grudgingly, Lionel admired their tenacity, if not their misguided and utterly outmoded morals…