A/N: I'm using the song "Passive" by A Perfect Circle.

Disclaimer: I don't own SV or "Passive."

Summary: Future fic Clark is dead, and Lex asks to see the body to see if it's really true. How will the ever-powerful Lex Luthor react to the death of his only friend, his perfect enemy? A look into the insanity that is rooted deep within Lex Luthor's soul.

My Perfect Enemy

Lex Luthor walked down the cold corridor of the morgue. His shiny, expensive shoes clicked on the concrete floor beneath them, and the sound echoed down the stone hall. His immaculate designer suit looked dull and plain in the dim overhead lights. His mouth was pressed into a firm line, revealing his irritation at his surroundings. His dark eyes were expressionless as a man in a white lab coat led him to a large steel door and held it open for him.

"This way, Mr. Luthor," the man told him, gesturing for Lex to enter the room. Holding his head high, the youngest Luthor passed through the doorway. He wrinkled his nose in disgust at the myriad of bodies covered in white sheets lying on steel tables. The man came up behind Lex, startling him slightly, though he would never admit that. "He's over here, Mr. Luthor." Lex followed the man over to a steel table in a corner of the room. The man carefully pulled away the white sheet.

"Dead as dead can be," my doctor tells me

There he was. His skin was sickly pale and yellowish, a characteristic extenuated by the lighting and the white sheet. His eyes were closed and motionless under their lids. His cheeks and mouth were sunken, every muscle in his face relaxed. Lex never would have believed it if he hadn't seen it for himself. Clark Kent, the man with more lives than a cat, is susceptible to the menacing (and apparently inescapable) dark claws of the reaper. He never would have thought it possible.

But I just can't believe him, ever the optimistic one

Clark had seemed invincible, as if nothing could touch him. He had survived more scrapes, explosions, and all-around near-death-experiences than anyone on the face of the earth. He had been hiding his strange power, it was almost immortality. Lex had known for years that the almighty Superman was Clark Kent, and he found an odd bit of satisfaction in the irony. Clark Kent, the man who was his first true friend, had become his most formidable foe.

I'm sure of your ability to become my perfect enemy
Wake up and face me, don't play dead cause maybe
Someday I will walk away and say, "You disappoint me,"
Maybe you're better off this way

When Superman first appeared, Lex had offered him a job of sorts. He wanted Superman to help him conquer. It was inevitable that Lex would become president, after all, but with Superman at his side, things would have been much smoother. But Superman had turned him down. He had wanted to take the virtuous path: saving people and such. "Hmph," Lex grunted as he thought, The virtuous path. Look where it took him. He's naked on a metal table in a basement! If he had come with me death would not have been an option. Then again, if Clark had joined Lex, Lex's ascension to power wouldn't have been quite as much fun.

Leaning over you here, cold and catatonic
I catch a brief reflection of what you could and might have been
It's your right and your ability
To become…my perfect enemy…

Lex frowned. He was staring down at the lifeless body of the man who had foiled many of Lex's plans, who had saved Lois Lane's life on countless occasions (though he still could never muster the courage to ask her on a date), and who had, more that once, saved Metropolis from utter annihilation. Could that man really die? Could that man really be the lifeless body that now sat before him on the table? Or was this some kind of trick? Did death truly vanquish the Superman?

Wake up (we'll catch you) and face me (come on now),
Don't play dead
Cause maybe
Someday I'll walk away and say, "You disappoint me,"
Maybe you're better off this way

Lex's gaze hardened. He stepped back a foot and with all of his strength he pushed over the steel table that held Clark's body. The table flipped and slammed the body into the wall with a disgusting smack. The table clattered as it hit the wall after Clark and then fell down before him. "Get up, you bastard!" Lex yelled, and behind the fallen table, a head raised. Clark stood, now fully clothed in his Superman costume. Clark stepped over the table and approached Lex. The room, normally cold, became hotter as fire burned in Clark's eyes. Clark pulled back his arm and quickly punched Lex directly in the stomach, throwing Lex into the concrete wall behind him. Clark walked calmly towards him as Lex feebly stood.

"I knew you weren't dead!" Lex yelled, gaining odd pleasure at the pain in his stomach and back.

Clark laughed, a sound that resembled raging flames devouring a sick source of fuel. "I'm Superman, Lex, a god. Of course I didn't die." Fire consumed the room as Clark walked towards Lex. Clark grabbed Lex around the throat and lifted him into the flames. Lex smiled as the flames overtook him.

"Mr. Luthor, are you okay?" the man in the lab coat asked, pulling Lex out of his delusion. Lex startled back into reality, but maintained his calm exterior. Clark was still on the table before him, still motionless, still breathless. Clark was dead. Superman was dead.

Wake up (can't you) and face me (come on now),
Don't play dead
Cause maybe
Someday I'll walk away and say, "You ing disappoint me!"
Maybe you're better off this way

Go ahead and play dead
I know that you can hear this
Go ahead and play dead
Why can't you turn and face me?
Why can't you turn and face me?
Why can't you turn and face me?
Why can't you turn and face me?
You ing disappoint me!
Passive aggressive bullshit

"Send his body to Cadmus Labs," Lex told the man in the lab coat. "If your superiors ask what happened to the body, tell them it was lost." Lex turned his steely gaze on the man making him shiver. Lex's eyes seemed colder and deader than those of any of the other occupants of the room. "It happens all the time." With that, Lex turned and exited the morgue, his long black coat billowing out behind him. The room seemed slightly warmer after he left.