Lex was packing up his things to take back to his apartment at the university when there was a knock on his door. Probably Clark, asking for help with one thing or another. "Come in," Lex said.

Dean entered the room.

Lex raised his eyebrows and continued packing. "You packed?"

"Yeah, Sam's getting the last of it."

"How's your shoulder blade?"

"Probably about the same as yours."

Lex's really hadn't been bothering him. "What's on your mind?"

"Might be a little while before I see you again, so . . . I wanted to talk to you." Dean sat on the edge of Lex's bed.

"About?"

It was quiet for a moment, then Dean said, "That stuff you said about your baby brother."

This was the last thing Lex wanted to talk about. "Look, Dean, I was just trying to get the ghost away from you. Thought you might have a better solution than me, and if I bought you some time—"

"So it wasn't true?"

Lex didn't say anything.

"Just saying, Luthor. Everything you were describing . . . it all sounds like an accident. You should forgive yourself."

Lex looked up at him, eyebrows raised. "And you should forgive yourself. For not always being able to protect Sam."

Dean gave him a look.

Lex shrugged. If Dean was going to propose stupid, impossible things, Lex owed it to him to suggest the same.

Dean cleared his throat and made another stupid suggestion: "You should talk to someone about your father."

Lex scoffed. "What, like a shrink?"

"No. Like the police."

When Lex was younger, he'd thought about it. Some days, he wished he'd made the call, though he doubted it would have helped, given his father's influence. Now, of course, there didn't seem to be any point. "I'm nineteen."

"So he's stopped hitting you?" Dean asked.

"You're twenty. He stopped hitting you?"

Dean looked away. "Told you that's different, Luthor."

"Make you a deal. You blow the whistle on your father, I'll tell on mine." Lex knew that would end the conversation.

"Screw you." Dean stood up and left the room.

Lex smiled a little to himself.

As far as Clark was concerned, the plane ride back to Kansas was a lot less terrifying than the plane ride to the island had been. The four of them played video games on the entertainment system. Clark had given up letting everyone else win; he allowed his reflexes to take over, and he wiped the floor with them all.

Sam and Dean's car was still parked by the jet's landing pad, exactly where they'd left it. Sam and Dean each gave Clark a quick hug, and Sam hugged Lex, but Dean just gave Lex a handshake before they took off. Lex and Clark stood waiting for Clark's parents to arrive.

It felt like Clark had been away from home for a very, very long time, but it also felt like the trip had gone by in the blink of an eye. He stood close by Lex, knowing this was the last he'd see of him for awhile. But when he saw his mom behind the wheel of his dad's truck, pulling up and smiling when she saw him, he knew he was ready to go home.

She barely waited for the engine to turn off before she jumped out and ran toward Clark, throwing her arms around him. "We missed you so much."

"I missed you, too, Mom." He didn't even feel embarrassed letting her hug him in front of Lex. He knew Lex was the last person who would judge him.

His mom ran a hand through his hair. "How are the nightmares? Still having them?"

It took Clark a second to figure out what she was talking about. "Nope. Not since that day I called you about them."

"Good." She kissed him on the cheek and turned to Lex. "It's good to see you, Lex. Thank you so much for taking him."

"It was my pleasure, Aunt Martha."

"You're a good kid, you know that?"

Clark wasn't sure why, but Lex didn't respond to that. Clark's mom stepped forward and held Lex in a tight hug, which he returned, then she squeezed his arm gently after letting go.

"Sure I can't give you a ride anywhere?" she asked.

"I've got to get back on the jet to get to school."

"Classes in the morning?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, then. Have a safe flight."

"Thanks, Aunt Martha. Drive safely."

Clark gave Lex one last hug, holding on a little longer this time since it would be the last time for awhile, then he climbed into the car with his mom. She drove away, and Clark watched Lex through the window, waving at him until he was so far away that Clark couldn't make out his face. Lex never stopped watching them go.

Sam's heart pounded as Dean pulled up to the motel where their dad was staying. It was late at night; their dad might already be a little drunk, depending on how his own hunt was going. If he was drinking, hopefully he'd be far gone enough not to question the clear evidence that Sam and Dean hadn't been hunting. It was one thing to believe the trip was worth the consequences; it was another to face them.

Their father was awake, sitting in front of a pile of papers and old books, a bottle of beer in hand. "Late night," he remarked as they entered the motel room.

"Yeah," Dean said.

"Nice tan, Sam."

Sam looked up at his father's eyes, which were narrowed in suspicion. "I—yeah, we were outside a lot . . ."

"Actually, Dad, I have a confession to make," Dean said.

Their father put down the paper that was in his hand and turned his chair to face Dean. Sam felt like his stomach was dropping onto the floor.

"We wrapped up the hunt a couple of days ago. It was rough on Sam, turns out shapeshifters can become ghosts—I'll give a full report later—but, uh, we took a detour and hit up a beach instead of heading straight back to you."

Dad nodded slowly. "And the reason why you took off to fool around without asking my permission?"

"I knew you'd say no. Sir."

"When you take the Impala and head out on a hunt, that's exactly where I expect you'll be. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir."

"Is there anything else I should know?"

"Uh . . ." Dean rubbed the back of his shoulder. "There was a tattoo parlor out at the beach area, and, uh . . ."

To Sam's surprise, their dad just chuckled at that one. "Never thought you were the type."

"Me neither," Dean muttered.

Their dad straightened up in his seat, his expression becoming serious again. "You're both going to be up at 0500. Extra mile added onto your PT for tomorrow morning."

"Yes, sir," they both said, and they held their breath for the rest.

Their dad turned back to his research. "Get some sleep, both of you."

Sam let his breath out as they each dragged their suitcases to their beds. "Not bad," Dean said. "Coulda been worse."

Sam nodded, but Dean was understating it by quite a bit. It wasn't just not bad, it was nothing. They were basically getting off free.

Sam couldn't sleep that night. He was grinning too hard.