Jonathan was out at the hardware shop trying to replace some broken tools when he heard the news. The whole of downtown Smallville was buzzing with it.

Ambulances and police cars and a huge crane were gathered beside the bridge. A car had gone over the edge. A fourteen-year-old boy had almost been hit, and he'd jumped into the river and rescued the driver from the car.

Jonathan dropped everything long before anyone else made the connection that the boy was Clark. He drove straight over to the bridge.

Sure enough, state troopers and medics flooded the area. And a boy in a shock blanket with dark brown hair sat on the back edge of an ambulance, faced away from Jonathan.

Clark.

"Clark!" Jonathan ran over to his son, his heart speeding up with every step. Clark's hair and clothes were soaked, his face paler than usual—not enough for anyone other than his father to notice, but Jonathan knew. He cradled his son's face in his hand and said, "Son, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm okay."

He whirled around to face the nearest state trooper. "Who's the maniac that was driving that car?"

"That would be me."

Jonathan turned to face the man who'd spoken. It was Lex.

It had been years since those long summers the boy used to spend with the Kents. He'd grown well, his face filling out so the baldness didn't stand out. But aside from being soaked and pale and bleeding in a few places, he looked weary, too old for his age. For a brief moment, Jonathan wondered if Clark's suspicions had been correct all those years ago, about Lionel's abuse being more than tough love and occasional neglect. Jonathan had never been able to imagine himself winning an argument with CPS against the likes of Lionel Luthor, and Lex always insisted on keeping his friendship with the Kents a secret from his father, so Jonathan had obligingly stayed out of it. Maybe that had been a mistake.

But if Jonathan were going to feel any sympathy for the boy, it would have to wait. Lex had just flown off a bridge—probably speeding—and almost hit Clark. Jonathan reached forward and grabbed Lex's arm, none too gently. "How did this happen?"

"There was a metal coil in the road. I didn't see it until it was too late."

"You mean you were speeding or distracted. Or both."

Lex sighed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Kent." He shrugged away from Jonathan's grip and glanced over at Clark. "Thanks for saving my life."

"I'm sure you would have done the same thing."

Lex gave Clark a slight smile and turned back to Jonathan. "If there's anything I can do to repay you—"

"Oh, no. You're not getting off that easy." Jonathan took off his jacket and put it around Clark, then reached out again for Lex's arm. "You're coming back to the farm with us."

Lex allowed himself to be led back to the truck, where Jonathan found his extra jacket and draped it over Lex's shoulders before guiding boy boys into the truck. Clark seemed relaxed, for the most part. Lex put on a good show, but he pulled at his collar, clearly sweating.

Back at the farm, Jonathan said, "Clark, go see your mother. She's probably heard the news by now, she'll be worried sick about you." He glared at Lex. "You, come out to the barn with me."

Lex swallowed, and both boys obeyed.

Jonathan had taken Lex out to the barn a few times during his summer with them; the boy knew to expect a thorough chewing out when it came to that. Lex shifted uncomfortably as Jonathan came to stand in front of him.

"How fast were you driving?"

Lex looked away. "Sixty."

"Look at me." Jonathan waited for Lex's eyes to focus on him. "Sixty miles per hour. Can you remind me what's the speed limit on that bridge?"

"I think it's thirty."

"You think."

"It might be twenty-five."

"So you were driving at least double the speed limit. What on earth possessed you to think that was okay? And what distracted you?"

Lex looked down again. "My phone."

New rage filled Jonathan's veins. "You were driving double the speed limit and texting? Tell me you were wearing a seat belt, at least."

"You're upset about Clark."

"Yes, I'm upset about Clark, but—"

"Look, if I'd known he was out there—"

"You'd have what? Valued your own life? Do you have no regard for your own safety?"

Lex blinked.

"You could have died, Lex. Do you have any idea how much that would have hurt Clark? How much it would have hurt Martha and me? You're, what, twenty-one now? You have your whole life ahead of you."

Lex didn't seem to expect to hear that at all. His eyes shone. "I'll do better, Mr. Kent."

Jonathan crossed his arms. "What did I tell you to call me?"

A hint of a smile played with the corners of Lex's lips, though his voice trembled slightly as he said, "Sorry, Uncle Jon."

It warmed Jonathan's heart a little to hear it, but he wasn't anywhere near finished with this kid. "We're not done yet. Not even close. We're going to talk about how you've been ignoring my phone calls."

"Sorry about that. New number, I'll write it down for Aunt Martha later."

"And my letters?"

"I was worried one of my father's spies would intercept my outgoing mail."

"You're a smart kid, Lex, you could have found a way around that."

"You're right, but I've been a bit busy with college. I'm sorry."

"Oh, according to the news, you've been very busy with college."

Lex's voice lowered. "You shouldn't believe everything you read on the news."

"About the cheating on exams?"

"That was never proven."

"Did you do it?"

Lex shifted his weight. "I never had to. My classes were easy."

"Your classes were easy, but you didn't have time to write to us."

Lex's jaw pulsed.

"So . . . I'm assuming all the stories about the drugs and partying and, ah, women . . . it's all true?"

"I'm sorry."

Jonathan let go of his last bit of hope that it was all a lie. Disappointment weighed on him. "Why do it, Lex?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters very much to me, if you're going to continue to be friends with my son."

Lex's eyes widened on the spot. "You wouldn't . . . Look, I'm sorry, Uncle Jon, I'm really sorry."

Jonathan shouldn't have even threatened trying to stand in the way of their friendship. He knew exactly how it would go over if he forbade Clark from spending time with Lex, even if he did feel like it was the right thing to do—and he really didn't, anyway. "I understand you've just moved to Smallville."

"My father's exiled me here. Again." He sighed. "I was looking forward to having Clark come visit, but . . . if you'd rather he didn't . . ."

"Clark can visit you. But if he ever starts, I dunno, dealing drugs or sleeping around, or if comes home with the slightest hint of alcohol on his breath—"

"If he picks up any obnoxious teenage habits, it won't be from me. You have my word."

Jonathan nodded. "So why did you do it, Lex? The women and drugs and drinking? You were a good kid."

Lex flinched slightly, probably at the past tense of the compliment. "I don't know, Uncle Jon. I guess just . . . trying to get under my father's skin."

"Is that what the speeding is about, too?"

Lex didn't say anything.

In an instant, all of the anger that had filled Jonathan before was replaced by the worry that had caused it. "You're going to get yourself killed, son."

"I'm sorry."

Jonathan clenched his jaw, torn between scolding harder and easing off. The dejected look on Lex's face won. He took the step that separated them and pulled him into a firm hug. "It's good to have you around." He let go and looked Lex right in the eyes. "We can keep a better eye on you this way, right?"

Lex's muscles seemed to have loosened, and he chuckled. "Yes, sir."

"You learn your lesson today?"

He straightened up a little. "Yeah. No more brainless stunts to try to get my father's attention."

Jonathan nodded. "Just don't forget, you're not too old to be grounded to the farm for a week."

"Sounds awfully nice."

"I'm sure it does." Jonathan squeezed the boy's shoulder gently. "I hear you've got a new job."

"Yeah. I'm heading up the Smallville fertilizer plant now. It hasn't turned a profit in years. I was going to sink it, but . . ."

"You could make a difference instead."

"I'll make you proud. I'll prove myself to you."

"I have no doubt of that." Jonathan smiled.

Lex didn't smile back, and his eyes wandered away.

"Hey. You doing alright?"

"Of course. Why?"

"Ah, I don't know. You just had a near death experience. Most people find that to be a little jarring."

"Oh." Lex let his breath out and paced a couple of steps.

Jonathan frowned. "What's on your mind?"

"It's . . . nothing. It must be nothing."

"Doesn't look like nothing. Talk to me."

"It doesn't make any sense."

Jonathan sat down on a hay bale and gestured for Lex to sit down beside him.

Lex sat and paused a moment before saying, "When I went over the bridge in my car . . . I could have sworn I hit Clark."

Jonathan's heart sank.

"I know it doesn't make sense. He'd be dead. But that's what I saw."

The last thing Jonathan wanted to do was to make Lex feel like he was going crazy, but he couldn't reveal Clark's secret, even to a close friend. Especially to one who had proven himself to be so unstable and self destructive—it wasn't fair to Lex or to Clark. But it wasn't fair to leave Lex with these questions, either. "Our minds sometimes play tricks on us during near-death experiences. Maybe . . . you felt guilty for coming so close to hurting him."

"You think my mind is punishing me?"

Jonathan shrugged.

"Maybe." Lex shook his head. "But it was so vivid. I've . . ." He took a deep breath. "I've had hallucinations before. I know what they're like, for me anyway. They seem real at the time, but then when you look back, it's like you were dreaming. This isn't like that."

Jonathan clenched his teeth. He didn't know how to answer these questions.

"There's something else."

"What?"

"Did you see my car?"

"I—I saw the crane pulling it out of the water. What's this got to do with—"

"The hood was peeled back."

The full story was coming together in Jonathan's mind. He'd have to talk to Clark and double check that he really was okay. Right now, though, he trusted Martha to take care of his son. "Yeah, the car was pretty badly damaged."

"No, no, it was . . . the whole hood was peeled back. Like a can of sardines."

"So, what do you think happened? You hit Clark and he rose from the dead to rip open your car with his bare hands and grab you?"

"I don't know what to believe, Uncle Jon. I know that sounds crazy, but somehow I can't quite just accept that I almost hit Clark and he jumped in to save me and we both survived with barely a scratch. You saw how damaged the car was—how did Clark even get the door open?"

"What are you suggesting?"

"I don't know. What would you think, if you were in my place?" His eyes pierced Jonathan's. "Is there anything about Clark I should know?"

Jonathan stood from the hay bale, rubbing the back of his neck. There was no way he was going to convince the kid that nothing was going on. But he also couldn't confess the truth. He just couldn't. "I think you're still reeling from the near death experience, son."

Lex's face fell. "Maybe."

Guilt weighed on Jonathan. "Why don't you come inside for a bit? I'm sure Martha's baking up something nice for Clark, and she'll want to see that you're safe, too."

Lex nodded and followed him out of the barn, but Jonathan could tell he hadn't dropped the issue. Far from it. Jonathan had a sinking feeling that this was only the beginning.