DISCLAIMER: It's too dang late at night to be disclaiming anything.

WARNING: Due to a scant few minor swear words, this story is now rated PG or K+.

CHAPTER THREE

Down in the crowd, shoved and pressed and squished until he felt like even his impervious bones might give under the pressure, it was easy for Clark to feel the awe, the hushed tension. Because no matter how much the tide of greedy journalists writhed and pressed, how much they shouted their questions, they went dead silent as soon as Lex Luthor opened his mouth.

That was just the kind of person Lex was, the kind of presence he had.

Normally it would irritate him. At the moment, he found it comforting. He was tired. He'd been so busy lately, and though he didn't need as much sleep as the average person, he did need some. The last time he'd slept had been four days ago, for a measly six hours, and even for him it was damn hard to deal with. His muscles were tired and sore with tension from all the recent fights, and to top it all off he had an urge to duct tape Lois's mouth shut. Even he couldn't put up with her amiably all the time.

Clark tried to focus on what Lex was saying, rather than just hearing his voice.

"...-ger we are about to undergo will benefit nearly every resident of Metropolis and the outlying towns in some manner. In addition, twenty percent of all profits resulting from this will go directly to ch..."

Clark lost his mental grasp on what Lex was saying again, as his mind attempted a forced shut-down. He almost fell asleep on his feet, eyes wide open.

Lois was asking him something again, in that I-demand-an-answer tone of hers, but Clark's brain wasn't registering the words. After a few failed attempts, she muttered something and went back to taking notes.

As soon as the press conference was over, Clark made his way, sleepy and barely able to think straight, to Lex's office. The secretary knew him, had seen him before in the-- How many years has she worked here? Clark couldn't remember.

She let him in and Clark managed to get past her, open the door and slip into Lex's office, close the door behind him. Then he collapsed into the couch near the door and he was out.

When Clark woke up, a concerned pair of blue-grey eyes were watching him from across the room. Lex was seated behind his desk, and he didn't bother to close his laptop like he had when they'd lived in Smallville. Besides, they both knew their unspoken truce was in effect right now.

As Clark sat up, he registered the fact that there was a blanket over him, and there hadn't been when he'd fallen asleep. He didn't need one, not even in his Fortress in the Arctic, but the thought of it brought a lazy, groggy smile to his lips anyway. Where had Lex gotten a blanket in this stiff and stuffy business atmosphere?

"They've been overworking you."

There was no hostility in Lex's tone, no anger, but Clark knew it was there anyway.

"Lex I'm--"

"Just because you're more than human doesn't mean they can exploit you like this. It's wrong."

Lex never interrupted him unless he was well and truly angry, and it belied his calm and reasonable tone. In fact, now that his brain was starting to wake up more, Clark realized Lex's tone was too calm. The very same one he used when he was murderously furious and trying to hide it, or keep it in check.

"I'm all right, Lex!" Clark said quickly, worried about what Lex might do to punish the League. "Just a little fatigued, that's all."

Lex stared at him in utter disbelief. "A little? You were swaying on your feet out there, Clark! I thought you were going to fall over! And obviously you were too tired to think properly, or you would have answered when Lois asked you if you wanted to go home. Clark, you're more than a little tired."

The journalist felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment and fought the urge to turn his gaze to his feet, as he would have done when he was a teenager.

Lex sighed and ran a hand over his head, as if through invisible hair. "You have to stand up for yourself more. Stop letting them run you ragged. Even you can't withstand a constant state of fatigue forever."

He heard the worry in the older man's voice, and that was enough to have him at Lex's side faster than the eye can blink, hugging him. "I'm not going to abandon you like everyone else, Lex. Not even for the grave."

Lex sighed. "Doesn't stop me from worrying."

Clark tightened his hold a little. "Does it feel like I'm fading?"

When the reply came, it was from a small, quiet voice. "No." A moment's hesitation and then, "But it didn't feel like Pamela was either."

The woman who'd been a surrogate mother to Lex when his own was dying. The one Clark had met briefly in Smallville before she had died.

Clark didn't have anything to say to that. Instead, he tightened his grip on Lex until it was just short of crossing the threshold into what would be painful for him. It seemed to ground them both a little, and Clark let go after a minute or two.

"I'll try not to let it get that bad anymore," Clark offered. It wasn't the promise Lex wanted, but it was all he could give. His life wasn't his own; it belonged to the world, in that he had to keep saving it, saving them, until he died or there was nothing left to save.

He wondered, briefly, if that was why Lex kept trying to end the world. To free us from destiny?

Clark smiled, a careless expression reminiscent of their days in Smallville, when his secret had been a smaller issue than it was now, and he'd had only the fate of his hometown and not entire galaxies on his shoulders.

Although Lex was reluctant to accept less than a promise of better self-care from his friend, he couldn't help but smile back, and he nodded.

Clark felt better, and he had a report to write up.

TBC...