Lex almost left the loft a half a dozen times. It was cold, and he was sore. Everywhere.

He knew this whole thing was his own fault. If he was going to be out partying all night, every night during finals week, he should have had the decency to miss a few questions on his exams, on principle. But the questions were insultingly easy. How was he supposed to know he'd be suspected of cheating?

Of course, no one could prove anything, because there was nothing to prove. Even if there was a point in cheating, he wouldn't have done it. The Kents would have been devastated if they ever found out. He wasn't that person.

But that didn't matter. The accusations had been raised, and an accusation was as good as a scandal. During Lex's teen years, his father had made it clear on several occasions how he felt about scandals. Lex had thought he was immune to that particular form of discipline now, since he was twenty years old and plenty strong enough to overpower his old man. But his father had merely called upon the help of a couple of guards to strip away Lex's shirt and hold him in position while his father took off his belt, so that he could carve those searing stripes into Lex's back, the same way he'd been doing since Lex was nine years old.

Lex had no right to dump any of this on Clark. Lex was twenty. Clark was a kid. But Lex wanted so badly to see the boy who called him a brother, and the temptation had won him over. So here he was.

He waited in the loft for over an hour before Clark came home. Clark had grown a lot in the year since Lex had seen him. At thirteen, he was almost as tall as Lex was.

His eyes widened when he saw Lex. "Hey! What are you doing here?"

"What, I can't hop on a plane and fly 1200 miles to see my favorite brother?"

"Well, yeah, but . . . I mean, is everything okay?"

"I'm fine," Lex said, but the effect might have been lost when he limped over to where Clark was standing.

"What happened?"

"Having a rough day. And, ah . . . I missed you."

"Oh, Lex!" Clark stepped forward and gave Lex what he'd come for—he pulled him into a strong embrace. A little too strong, actually, but Lex made sure to hide his wince before Clark let go. "My parents will be happy to see you."

"No, no. I can't stay long. Just wanted to see you for a bit."

Clark's smile fell. "Something happened. With your dad?"

"Ah, just . . . grades."

"You failed a class?"

"Something like that."

"You should get a tutor. You can afford it, right?"

Lex chuckled. "That's a good idea."

Clark grinned. "Do you want to play basketball? I can lend you some clothes."

"Ah, maybe next time." The mess of stripes on Lex's back still throbbed, and he was exhausted from struggling to get away from the guards. He gently lowered himself to sit on the couch, and Clark sat across from him.

"Want to play a board game?"

Lex didn't have the mental capacity to handicap himself for whatever game they played to give Clark a chance at winning. "I don't have a lot of time. Maybe we could just catch for a little bit? Tell me how things are on the farm, how school's going, whether you've worked up the nerve to talk to Lana . . ."

Clark's cheeks turned pink, but he scooted up to the edge of his seat and started talking.

Later, Lex couldn't have recalled many of the details about what Clark said. Clark talked for awhile about the horses and the cows, he told Lex about a science project he'd enjoyed and a history test he'd aced, and then he rambled for a long time about Lana and how she was dating some football player from the high school now—he sounded shady to Lex, but it wasn't any of his business unless the kid became a threat to Clark in some way.

The truth was, it didn't matter what Clark said. His voice washed over Lex like a healing balm, and while his physical injuries still burned, the emotional pain—the helplessness, the hopelessness, the self-worthlessness—melted away, until he almost couldn't remember why he'd been so upset.

It took about a half an hour for Clark to run out of stories. He sat back against his chair, sighing. "My parents are going to call me in for breakfast soon. Sure you don't want to join us?"

Lex shook his head. As much as he missed Aunt Martha's mom-hugs, Clark's parents would definitely suspect something was wrong, and they wouldn't let it go as easily as Clark did. He couldn't endanger them by tempting them to call the police. "I've got to get moving, Clark. But it was good to see you."

"Good to see you too." They both stood, and Clark pulled Lex into a last hug—a much gentler one this time—and Lex couldn't understand how in the world he'd gotten so lucky, or what he could have possibly done to deserve this kindness.

Lex forced himself to let go. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

Clark nodded. "You, too. Hope to see you soon."

Lex had fought tears on the way to the farm. He fought tears as he drove away, too.