Similis

The X-Man known to the world as Wolverine stood outside the discreet entrance, scowling as he inhaled. The cigar was a good one, one of several lifted discreetly from Xavier's 'guest' box late the previous night, and he was reluctant to rush it, and even less keen to abandon it entirely. Thinking of Xavier, just what exactly was taking Charlie Boy so long?



After all, it ain't as if he has to do anything with his hair…



Smirking at the images that inspired, Wolverine shut them away in the back of his mind. It would not do for those ideas to be flying around should his boss pick that moment to intrude on his thoughts.



The stocky mutant's sensitive nose wrinkled, someone was coming, he knew it long before the new arrival appeared. The scent of expensive leather and even more expensive car preceded the other, and Wolverine leant back against the column and appreciated the combination of fresh air and the subtle, or at least to anyone with only normal senses, aroma of wealth.



When the expensive smell arrived, Wolverine was mildly amused to discover that the source was a young man looking at first glance like a very much more mobile version of Charles Xavier. Not that Wolverine supposed that either of his subjects would have been pleased to have that comparison made.



"Last chance?" The newcomer suggested, eyeing the cigar with interest and glancing across to the 'No Smoking' signs plastered prominently in the entry way.



"Yup." Wolverine replied. He nodded at the smouldering stub in his hand. "Good cigar. Don't want to waste it."



"Ah." Came the ready response. Taking a cigarette out of an unusually battered case, he lit it, and drew on it with a half-guilty, half-pleased expression. "Giving up." He explained. "But it's been a crappy couple of days, plus I really hate hospitals, even exclusive private ones that prefer to be referred to as 'Research facilities'."



"Yup." Wolverine sympathised, immediately taking a liking to this youngster.



The young man squinted up at the sky. "I'm not too keen on mornings either. Too bright, even in Gotham." He said casually. "What is the time?"



"Must be nearly twelve." Wolverine speculated helpfully.



"Shit!" The cigarette immediately ended up in the ash-can. "I have to be somewhere. Nice meeting you…" He waved his security pass at the discreet machines in the doorway and vanished inside.



"And you." Dropping the well-gnawn stub into the sand tray, and fishing his own pass out of his pocket, Wolverine decided that it was probably time for him to be off about his business too. Xavier could find him whenever he wanted, regardless of where Wolverine was, so maybe it was better to do a little subtle nosing around, and ensure that no nasty business was taking place behind their backs?



Not that Logan expected squeaky-clean Bruce Wayne would allow anything underhand to go on in any part of his company premises, even so …







The lift pinged. Looking up, the bald youngster pressed the 'hold' button for the doors and gestured for Wolverine to hurry. Feeling a little too lazy to tackle stairs at that moment, Wolverine nodded and picked up his pace.



"Five." He said, checking the number printed on his own security pass and pressing the band against the scanner to verify his own right to boldly go etc.



"And thanks." Sneaking a glance at his companion, he mentally amended that to 'baldly go'… and enjoyed the moment.



"My pleasure." The lad had nice expensive manners to match his nice expensive clothes, but Wolverine charitably decided not to hold that against him. He waited for his floor with the same patient silence practiced by elevator users all over the world, and hoped that no one else got in the lift, as he would almost certainly then have to get out before he was ready to, plus he had no wish to try and explain to anyone why it was that so many elevators stopped working when he was in them.



The fact that Wolverine could almost make the full weight limit on a passenger elevator all by himself was down to his adamantium skeleton, and while having metal bones was usually an extremely good thing for him, it could also be downright embarrassing at times, and Logan was not a person who enjoyed being awkward in front of others. Truly, he reflected, as Nightcrawler often told him, it WAS better to give than to receive…







"Floor five." The electronic voice announced. "Passenger clearance verified. After vacating the elevator, please proceed directly to your approved destination. This floor operates maximum security protocol."



"After you?" The younger man offered. "This is my floor." From the look of him he might have been stating the plain fact: the cost of that coat alone would probably buy half a hospital wing, even in this place. Add in the shoes, slacks and watch, the youth must be good for a few million, at the very least.



Still, it ain't his fault he's worth a few bucks, Wolverine reminded himself, be polite to the nice rich bald kid. "Thanks." He strolled out into the corridor and sauntered over to the water cooler as if he belonged there. The cigar had left him rather dry. Out of the corner of his eye he watched his recent acquaintance head straight for a room over on the left.



Nah, it couldn't be, could it? Sipping his water, Wolverine double checked the room number against the information he had been issued with only that morning. Yep, it is. One day he was going to ask Charlie Boy how come so many coincidences turned out not to be so coincidental, even if only to watch Xavier squirm.



So what was bald-boy doing in there? It was a perfectly reasonable question, and although Wolverine knew that he was not a perfectly reasonable person, he also knew that he was shortly going to be a very nosy person and go take a little look-see, with or without Xavier, just as soon as he finished his water.



"Logan." The cultured tones from around rib-level made him jump, just a little.



"Jesus, Charles!" He hissed, gesturing meaningfully with the half-empty cup. "Give a guy a bit of warning would you? You nearly made me wet myself."



If Charles Xavier was amused at that thought, he managed to keep it to himself. "Any sight of our new mutant?" He asked.



"Not yet. They still got the curtains drawn in the room. Don't look like anyone's open for business yet."



"I have reason to believe that is shortly going to change. I take it you noticed the arrival of Mr Lex Luthor?"



So that was why the bald kid looked a bit familiar? Nice going Logan! Good job you didn't insult him! Logan decided that he really ought to do something about the voices in his head, or at least the ones that originated on the inside…



"So how were you planning on getting us in there? Or do I have to guess?" He asked Xavier, half dreading the answer.



"Not at all. When Virgil Swann contacted me, he advised me to relay to Mr Kent that he had asked me to see if I could be of assistance. Apart from which Bruce Wayne has also personally requested our help."



"And you think that whoever these other people are in there, they are just going to welcome us with open arms?" Wolverine flexed his fingers and growled. "Yeah, sure… I mean, that's the way it always happens, isn't it?"



"Logan." Xavier gave him one of his patented 'I-know-much-better- than-you-about-these-things' looks. "Dr Swann is a well-respected man, and he is already acquainted with the Kent's, as is Bruce Wayne."



And if the shit hits the fan you can always roll out through the front door while I get to draw their attention… Wolverine thought wryly, following his fearless leader along the brightly lit corridor.



After all, who would be dumb enough to attack a helpless-looking guy in a wheelchair, especially in a very exclusive private facility that was rumoured to be regularly frequented by the Batman?



Wolverine knew that he certainly wouldn't, despite his personal advantages, although he was prepared to concede that maybe that was also because Logan also knew EXACTLY what else Xavier packed into that thing…







"Nope, there's been no change yet." The older man rolled his shoulders and yawned. "Lex, I appreciate your concern, I really do, but we can…"



"Handle this?" Lex tried again. "Jonathan … I don't intend leaving this room unguarded for one single minute. I'm with Bruce on this, Haze may have destroyed all of the evidence that Morgan Edge had accumulated on Clark, or he may not, but my gut feeling is that the danger is far from over. Even with Edge out of the way."



"You got good instincts, kid." Wolverine commented.



Lex swung round. "This is a private room." He said sharply, with none of the easy friendliness of his earlier manner. "Should I know you?"



"Possibly, although I don't believe we have been formally introduced." The beautifully modulated voice interrupted before the discussion turned nasty. "I am Professor Charles Xavier, and we have a couple of mutual acquaintances: Dr Virgil Swann? And of course, our esteemed host, Bruce Wayne." He handed a hand-written note to Jonathan.



"This is Logan, also known as Wolverine."







"Bruce's note says that they can help, and if that's the case then you're both more than welcome." Jonathan Kent nodded, tucking the note in his shirt pocket. "And Dr Swann too? Clark thinks very highly of Dr Swann. You'd best come in then. I'm Jonathan Kent, and this is,"



"Lex Luthor." Lex introduced himself. "Jonathan, where's everyone else?" He wondered aloud.



Jonathan Kent grinned hugely. "Now where do you think, Lex? They went to the canteen to pick up something for late breakfast."



"Late breakfast?" Lex smirked openly. "He can't be hungry again?"



"Well, we do get up kinda early on the farm." Jonathan gave a self-deprecating shrug and then the grin returned. "You ought to know us country folk by now, Lex? Although I guess that you can probably afford the feed bill, if you want to take them both on…?"



"I think I'd better start working on my next billion…" Lex told him. It seemed to be a private joke between them, although by the look of things neither of them were ready to yuck it up too loudly just yet.







While the two men were bantering, Wolverine eased over to the head of the bed and took a look at the body they were guarding.



The young man in the bed was tall, well over six feet, and dark haired, with muscular shoulders and broad biceps. The arms lying neatly on top of the covers ended in large hands. Despite the shrouding blanket it was a fair bet that the legs matched the upper body in development.



Not a couch potato by any means.



The lad's breathing was slow, and regular, the readouts for that part looked fairly good, but there were a series of smaller pads attached to his head, and the brainwave monitor showed long lines, undulating only slightly, where there should have been regular spikes and troughs.



Shit. Wolverine had had enough field training on those depressing little readouts to know that brainwaves were not supposed to be that simple. "The kid's not in a good way, Charlie." He said, in his usual blunt fashion. "Parts of his brain patterns are way down."



"That is why Virgil and Bruce hoped that I might be of some assistance." Xavier replied. "Please excuse my colleague's rather direct approach. Logan is not the soul of tact, however there is no one I would rather have at my side in an emergency."



"Gee, thanks." Wolverine shared a glance with the farmer.



Jonathan managed a sympathetic grin. "My wife says the same sort of thing about me." He confessed. "Except Martha's not always so polite about it."







Trusting Wolverine to handle any ongoing details, Xavier rolled his wheelchair up close to the side of the bed. Closing his eyes, he concentrated quietly for a moment. Despite that, the sounds of the brainwave monitor remained largely unaltered.



Frowning Xavier put a little more effort into the task. Opening his eyes he waited for his activities to bear fruit, experiencing a definite sense of something being about to happen. It seemed that his instincts were accurate.



A spark jumped from the brainwave monitor to the curtain rail on the ceiling and the monitor screen went black but not before everyone in the room saw the lines spike beyond all programmed tolerances.



"Nice one, Charlie…" Wolverine allowed himself a small smirk. "If I'd of known you wanted the thing trashed I would'a done it for ya! 'Cept you'da moaned like hell about it!"



"Maybe you'd better leave Haze alone!" Unnerved, Lex stepped closer, "You obviously don't know what you're dealing with." He stopped still on hearing the faint 'snikt' as Wolverine's adamantium claws extended out of the back of the mutant's hands.



"You probably don't know what you're dealing with either, bub." Wolverine said calmly. "Charles here ain't exactly conventional, but he means well, and we're usually pretty good at what we do."



"So what DO you do? Parlour tricks?" A hand blurred out of nowhere and lifted Wolverine effortlessly into the air, dangling him by one wrist. "And who the heck are you?"



The hand proved to be attached to a large teenager. The youth's other fingers had locked around Wolverine's other wrist before the startled mutant could blink, let alone react. Wolverine had always thought that his own reactions were fast, but this tall kid moved like lightning.



"And why are you threatening my friend?" The green eyes were growing angry now. "Why have you got those blades in your hands?"



As he hung suspended from the boy's upraised arms, Wolverine growled in irritation. Being short sucked, big-time…



"Why are your bones all metal?" The boy demanded.



Wolverine stared, how the hell did this kid know that?



"And what are you doing in here?!" The questions kept coming, as relentless as the boy's iron grip. For a second the kid's eyes seemed to kind of glow. Of course, Wolverine decided that he might possibly have imagined that part; at least he hoped so. Glowing eyes were rarely good news, especially in his line of work …







"Clark… Son." Jonathan Kent's mild tones caught Clark's attention immediately. "One thing at time. Put the man down nicely… Bruce and Dr Swann sent him, and his friend, the Professor here, to help us."



"Oh." Clark flushed. "Sorry…"



"Logan, was it?" Jonathan made the necessary introductions. "Meet my boy, Clark. The lad in the bed there is Haze. Clark, this is Mr Logan, and this other gentleman is Professor Xavier."



"People mostly call me Wolverine, or Logan." Logan told the elder Kent. "Take your pick. Seeing as you seemed to have saved me from having my arms ripped off, I feel kinda well-disposed to you right about now." He stared at the kid. What did they feed these farm boys on? Something about the kid's looks began to bug him. Wolverine glanced back at the other boy lying silently in the bed.



"You look just like him." He pointed at the bed, and then sniffed tentatively. "You even smell just like him. Not even twins should be this alike… Is it only me that thinks that's weird?"



Lex laughed out loud. "Tell me about it!"



"I believe that I may have …" Whatever Xavier was about to say, was lost in a loud crack of rending metal. Smoke poured profusely from the battery compartment of his powered chair.



Hastily slicing open the back panel, Logan found that the battery was glowing red-hot. Just perfect… That's bound to make a good impression!



Quick as a flash Clark leaned in past him and snatched up the smoking unit. The youth blurred away with the battery held tightly in his arms, apparently not bothered by the heat or the weight, and moving so fast that the rush of air travelling along with him tugged at the curtains leaving them flapping madly in the sudden breeze.



Like someone combined Quicksilver and Colossus in one body… Logan thought. Shit, maybe I really did see his eyes glow?



The lights went out in the room, and then in the corridor beyond, and somewhere off in the building a fire alarm began to wail.







"Haze!" Clark blurred back minus the glowing battery and without any hint of heat damage. "Haze, it's me, it's all okay. No one's going to hurt you."



Hastily dropping the rail down on the other side of the bed, he flung himself onto the far edge of the mattress, pressing himself tight against his 'twin', stroking the dark hair, and whispering softly to the other boy. "I had to go fast, but I'm back now, I'm right here for you!" He began running one hand up and down Haze's arm and at his touch, the tension in the small room relaxed slightly.



After a couple of trial blinks, the room lights came back up, followed by those out in the corridor. Finally the monitors automatically reset. At least two of them did, as the third was evidently beyond saving.



Jonathan heaved a sigh of relief, and held out his arms to the elegant red-haired woman who was walking in carrying an armful of packaged goods. "This is Martha, my wife…" He explained to the other recent visitors.



"Sorry I took so long, Jon. The power was out." Martha said calmly, as if this sort of thing were an everyday occurrence. "I had to take the emergency stairs." She cast a quick glance over at their son. "Sweetheart, we really will have to talk with someone about not pelting through buildings. Particularly not on the stairs." She said mysteriously.



Jonathan raised his eyebrows and nodded.







Pulling his scattered thoughts back into proper order, Xavier was openly concerned. He decided not to mention the specifics of what had just happened, however he was well aware that people were looking to him for an explanation.



"That was not the reaction I had anticipated." He admitted. "I had hoped to reach the boy's mind. To draw him out of himself?"



"And what did you actually do?" Lex had to know.



"I believe I inadvertently triggered some form of self-protection. The response was incredibly strong, and wide ranging." Xavier turned his attention back to the two young men, and most particularly to the one currently lying unmoving in the arms of the other.



There was more to either boy than met the eye. The active lad, Clark, was openly distraught, his pleasant face revealing the depths of his concern for his brother. Xavier was surprised to find that Clark's mind, was every bit as unreachable as that of his unconscious twin.



Charles wished for just one instant that his relationship with his own sibling could be so agreeable. But he was a realist, and had long since accepted that that was not likely to occur.



"Haze." Clark was saying quietly, "We need you, I need you…"



Xavier felt uncomfortable at intruding on such an intimate moment.



"I apologise." He told the lad. "I had not intended to generate such distress. Haze's mental defences are unlike anything I have ever encountered." He regarded the defunct monitor with concern. "Apparently my attempt to reach him was perceived as an intrusion, and dealt with as a threat."





Clark looked down in wonder at his twin. "But you did reach him!" He said, without taking his eyes off the other boy's face. "I can feel him again!" He glanced at Jonathan. "He's back, Dad! Just at the edges of my head."



"Nice turn of phrase, Kid. Real poetic." Wolverine chuckled, refusing to acknowledge the slight moistness around his eyes. "Now I know why Charlie needed all that educating… So he can say crap like that and still make it sound good!"



"Logan!" Xavier gave him a hard stare. "There is a lady present."



"Beggin' your pardon, ma'am." Wolverine apologised, noting that Martha Kent did not seem all that offended. In fact he would have bet good money that at that very moment she was trying very hard not to laugh out loud.



* * * * *



After Martha and Jonathan had made their excuses and left, Lex shut the door and looked back at their small group. "So what do we do now?"



"I cannot sense any indication of Clark's brother." Xavier made the obvious guess at the relationship between the two. "Which is highly unusual, as my telepathic gifts are very strongly developed."



"Haze isn't my brother." Clark murmured absently, staring at his duplicate. "He just happens to look like me."



"In that case, Haze bears a most uncanny resemblance to you." Xavier remarked. "The fact that I do not seem to be able to penetrate your thoughts either, even though I am loosely aware of your presence, convinced me that you were related."



"Clone?" Wolverine suggested, wondering why the boy was not taking more notice of either him or Charlie? Mutants were hardly everyday fare for most people?



Clark didn't seem bothered at the suggestion as he only smiled. "No, nothing like that. Haze and I aren't related at all. Any likeness is only on the outside." He seemed quite uninterested in anything but the person in the bed, but was obviously making an effort to be polite and to converse with them.



"Then do you have any idea why I am unable to sense your thoughts?" Xavier wondered.



"Dr Swann said that you helped him decode the symbols on the disc." Clark said carefully, "So I guess if I tell you that the repeating message was sent for me, you would know what I meant?"



"For you?" Now Xavier looked noticeably worried.



"But I don't want anything to do with that." Clark added. "So you can see why you probably wouldn't be able to read me?"



"Indeed not." Xavier agreed guardedly, "And Haze?"



"Haze isn't part of any of that stuff." Clark shrugged. "He came here, to us, by accident, he was hurt when he arrived and had to adapt quickly, it just happened to be me that he used as a template."



"Amazing!" Xavier was openly impressed.



"Yes, Haze is amazing." Clark said in a shy voice. "And he promised that he wouldn't let Morgan Edge hurt me any more, so he took everything Edge had on me away from him, so that Edge wouldn't be able to."



"I believe that he may also have taken Morgan Edge's life." Xavier pronounced solemnly.



"Ah. No, Haze didn't do that." Lex interrupted softly, walking around the bed, he edged past Wolverine and took Haze's hand in his. "Haze pulled the whole building down but he was only prepared to destroy property. Edge was very much alive at that stage."



"How do you know what Haze did, Lex?" Clark looked up from his adoration of his unconscious duplicate. "You weren't even there."



"Bruce sent me a copy of a report from the Batman." Lex shrugged. He looked back at Xavier. "Batman was working with Haze. He came back from patrolling just at the moment when Edge shot Haze. That's when Clark arrived, and while they were trying to save Haze, Edge ran off into the shadows. Haze can hardly be held responsible for anything that may have happened to Edge since that point. Haze has been comatose since that morning."



"But Lex, why would Bruce show you that report?" Clark persisted.



Lex hesitated, obviously choosing his words with care. "Clark, he felt I should know. He said that you were taking things badly and he wanted me to have the facts." He glanced back at Xavier. "The report also made it quite plain that Clark saved both Batman and Haze from being flash-fried."







"I didn't know that anything like that would happen," Clark confessed, his voice softened. "But I did know that Haze needed me. I'm his anchor." He glanced over at Xavier "I've always been his anchor, since the minute he arrived here."



"Are you anchoring him now, Clark?" Xavier's tone was gentle. "If you are, maybe I can reach Haze through you?"



"I thought you just told Clark you couldn't do that?" Clark wasn't the only one who was confused now, the younger Luthor also sounded positively bewildered. "Could you explain what you mean?"



"I cannot read Clark's mind, but I may be able to induce a relaxed hypnotic state in Clark, in which he can gain active control of the link between the two of them." Xavier told Lex.



"Could that hurt Haze?" Clark might be himself again, and inexperienced in many ways, but he was far from stupid. "After all, I've never done anything like that before."



"I doubt it."



"But you're not sure?"



"I will not lie to you Clark. No, I am not sure if Haze could be adversely affected by manipulating this link between you. Even if it is possible for you to do so."



"Then I won't do it." Clark decided. "I can't risk hurting Haze again."



Xavier nodded solemnly. "I have to respect your wishes."







"Bull." Wolverine spoke out. "Kid, did you look at the brainwave patterns? Before the thing blew to bits?"



"Yes." The youth looked at him.



"Did you understand them?"



"No, why should I?"



"Because they were telling you that there is not a lot going on in there. Look, the other monitor is still working, tell me what you see there?"



Clark stared at it. "Lots of squiggly lines." He said at last. "Mostly."



"See that flat one?" Wolverine patiently indicated the appropriate row with a blunt finger.



"Yes." The boy frowned. "What about it?"



"That means that there is no kidney activity." Wolverine told him. "People don't live long without working kidneys."



"Haze doesn't have kidneys." Clark announced sullenly. "There'd be no point, since he doesn't need them."



"He doesn't?" Wolverine was amazed. Just what were these kids?



"Nope." The tall youth stated firmly.



"Clark!" Lex stared at him. "Did you tell anyone that?"



"Of course I did!" Clark protested. "But apart from Bruce no one else wanted to listen. I'm just a big kid who doesn't know anything, remember?"



"We are listening now, Clark." Xavier promised. "Please, tell us everything you know about Haze."



"Like that'll take long." Clark started, and then visibly pulled himself together. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be rude when you're here trying to help us. It's just that I'm tired, and I've been so worried about Haze. It wasn't so bad while Bruce was here, but …" He trailed off.



"Fair enough, kid, but share with us what you have. You never know, we may be able to make use of it?" Wolverine cut in.



"Okay." Clark shifted into a more comfortable position. "There's the flying stuff."



Lex patted his friend, "That doesn't affect Haze's health, does it?"



"No." Clark admitted. "I guess it doesn't matter then… Okay, I do know for sure that Haze doesn't really need to eat or drink, and that he actually runs on pure energy. He told me that just after he arrived. He eats food because that helps everyone else feel comfortable with him, and because he likes it. He converts whatever he eats to pure energy with no, er, waste."



Clark frowned. "Haze doesn't have most of the same internal organs as any of the rest of us, but he does have blood though, which I don't understand. Why would he need that? He doesn't breathe for the same reasons we do either, although I can sometimes feel him doing what it looks like I do when I breathe in and out. He just doesn't need to. It's mostly for show. " He looked at Lex. "Does any of that make sense?"



"Some." Lex nodded. "Go on, Clark, you're doing fine."



"Lex, I'm not a little kid!" Clark pouted.



"No, you're a BIG kid." Lex leant over and squeezed Clark's shoulder. "Now do as you're told."



"'Kay, Lex." Clark tipped his head up as he thought it over. "Like I said, Haze never needs the restroom." He flushed slightly at the subject matter. "He does like to be clean though. We usually shower together, that way we can get each others backs."



"Never doubted it for a second." Wolverine muttered. Noticing that everyone was suddenly watching him, he tried for 'Total Innocence #1'.



"What? How many people do you know who can scrub the middle of their own back?" He cast a quick glance at Xavier. "Apart from Hank McCoy that is? And being able to hold a back scrubber with your feet don't count in my book…"







"Please do continue Clark," Xavier encouraged, casting Wolverine a mildly disapproving glance.



"There's not much more really." Clark sighed. "Haze is very sensitive to what's going on around him. He feels energy patterns and directs them somehow. Oh, and he can heal: I mean he can help others to heal, although I don't know how Haze does that." He sighed again.



"I am sure the energy didn't come from inside him when he healed my mom, plus he had to have my help with controlling it. Haze explained to me then that it was because he doesn't really belong in what he thinks of as our 'dimensional space'."



Lex spoke up. "Haze also needed help when he healed Clark, and that time it was me he used to help him stabilise the flow of energy." The Luthor heir looked a little uncomfortable admitting that. "I would agree with Clark. It was definitely not coming from inside Haze then either: it felt more like Haze was channelling something else, a vast source of energy from somewhere outside of himself, and directing it."



"Interesting." Xavier regarded all of them with a curious intensity. "So are we to take it that Haze does have limitations?"



"I assume so." Lex nodded. "Otherwise why would this be happening?" He waved at the bed. "Haze would either have restored himself by now, or not have gotten hurt in the first place."



"Of course Haze has limits." Clark agreed. "Oh, and he picks up the energy whenever he destroys anything."



"What?"



"He …"







"I heard you perfectly kid. I was just surprised, is all." Wolverine's habitual frown intensified. "Gets stronger, eh?"



"Yes, but he doesn't like doing it. It upsets his natural balance."



"Well, ain't that swell…?" Wolverine muttered under his breath. From the hard stare that he was getting from Clark, the kid had heard anyway… Logan mentally added 'ears like a damn bat' to his growing tally of Clark's abilities.



"Haze doesn't have the same emotions as most people." Clark continued, dropping his intense inspection of Wolverine and returning his attention politely to Xavier.



"He doesn't?" Lex interrupted. "I don't think I totally agree with you there, Clark." He looked at the reaction beginning to form on Clark's face. "Really, I'm not trying to start an argument, but I've seen Haze react in a whole range of ways."



"Lex. You've seen the outside," Clark said patiently, scrubbing at his eyelids with his knuckles. "But what I'm talking about is what Haze has inside… Haze recognises emotions in other people, he even mimics them, but he mostly doesn't really feel them. He likes to stay very still inside, very peaceful... "



"Haze may not actively hate, but he does kill, Clark." Lex reminded his friend. "He took out four trained killers, unarmed, and left them all dead, in under ten minutes, when he and I went off to rescue you."



Xavier and Wolverine exchanged stunned glances.



"Of course Haze can kill, Lex, that is what his species were … designed for. He makes no secret of that." Clark argued. "Haze does it when he recognises that he has to, but he doesn't like doing it. He reacts, he doesn't ...?" He hesitated, searching for the right word.



"Instigate?" Lex suggested.



"Yeah, instigate…" Clark agreed. "And his emotions shut off before he can access his abilities."



"That's a relief." Wolverine couldn't resist the urge.



"It's probably the only thing that has saved Humanity." Xavier announced thoughtfully. "We have here, a being that could possibly have the means to annihilate us with a single thought, and apparently the only thing holding him back is his own internal morality and an affection for those who have taken him in and befriended him." He passed Wolverine a telling glance.



Wolverine regarded his mentor with narrowed eyes. Okay Chuck, so it does sound a bit like someone we both know…



"Haze wouldn't wipe out humanity. He wouldn’t go for that sort of thing." Clark gave Xavier a dark look. "He's an angel."



"Sure he is." The cynical words slipped out before Wolverine could stop them.







"He IS!" Clark shouted. The glass in the windows rattled slightly. Paling, Clark sat down hard on the floor, not trusting any of the flimsy chairs to take his weight without breaking. "Even if you can't see it." The distraught teen put his face in his hands. "You don’t know him like I do." He said plaintively. "Haze is more than my friend, I can feel what he thinks, and it's beautiful!"



"Clark, no one else knows Haze like you do." Lex hastily pacified the troubled teen, actually finding himself wishing for Jonathan Kent for possibly the first time in his life.



"I think Haze is beautiful too, Clark," He said soothingly, "but Professor Xavier and Wolverine have never even met him before. All they've seen are the official reports. You have to admit that being able to make buildings fall down into dust pies doesn't sound all that friendly."



"I guess." The voice was surprisingly small coming from such a large frame. "But there was no one in it, and no one was hurt."



"Haze was hurt. No one but us knows that he was responsible for the demolition. Therefore, officially there is at least one casualty." Lex reminded him.



Clark sniffed. "It was that stupid bastard Edge." He muttered. "He was trying to get me and, when he couldn't, he shot Haze instead."



"Perhaps he couldn't tell the difference between you two?" Lex suggested, deciding not to call Clark on his choice of language. Now was definitely not the time.



"Well, he should have!" Came the immediate protest. "Now Haze is like this, and I don't know if he'll ever wake up!"



As the boy's tears began to flow, Lex pulled Clark into a close embrace and rocked him lightly. "I'm sure Haze is going to be fine." He said, attempting to placate his friend. "You just need some rest, Clark. You can't help Haze if you exhaust yourself first."



"You think?" The wide eyes were trusting.



"I'm sure of it." Lex indicated the empty bed. "Why not hop up there and try and get a few hours sleep?"



"I don’t think I can. I'm still worried about Haze."



"But you can feel him there now, can't you?"



"Yes?"



"So maybe you being able to sleep will help him heal too?"



"I guess … " Clark sighed and let Lex settle him down. "You'll …"



"Be right here." Lex promised.