*I never told*.
Lex opens his eyes on the ceiling of the Fortress. He can taste blood in his mouth.
"Please do not move. There was a great deal of damage."
Lex closes his eyes again, licking his lips. They taste dry, and the room reminds him of--
When he tries to move, something's holding him down. His fingers scratch at bare air. Instantly, his mind floods. Shit. Shit. No.
"Lex Luthor." The voice is familiar. "You incurred massive brain hemorrhaging. If you promise you will not move, I will release you."
"Where am I?"
The pause lasts too long. This isn't--Belle Reve. The room's not cold, and the voice is--he knows that voice. "I can't--" Lex sucks his lip between his teeth. Think. Christ, think. "I'm at the Fortress."
It's funny, how he almost thinks he feels the AI relax. "Yes."
His head aches, feeling curiously empty. Lex draws in a slow breath, then another, trying to orient himself. He's in the Fortress. The AI got him out. He's--alone again.
There's a place in his mind that feels torn, and he explores it curiously. An unscabbed wound that flinches when he ventures too close. "I--I wondered--"
"You went into cardiac arrest. I had to remove you earlier than planned."
"I won't--I won't move." He's not sure he can. Everything feels unfamiliar, his body a strange weight that pushes him down. "I don't think I can."
The restraints slide slowly away, and Lex lets his arms relax. Just lay there, breathing, trying to find himself.
"I feel--" He stops, trying to find the right words. "Something's missing."
For a long time, there's only the soft sound of whatever is monitoring him. Curious, Lex turns his head. A thin black band circles his upper arm, and fluid is being distributed into an IV. Very human hospital of the AI. "You should rest."
"Something is wrong." Lex slowly reaches up with his free arm, touching his head. "I feel--"
"You are exhausted." The bleep of the monitors rise in speed. "You upset yourself to no purpose. Nothing is wrong. The damage has been repaired to the utmost of this facility's abilities. Rest is what you need now."
"Damage?" Lex rubs his forehead. Everything feels wrong, and he can't quite touch the reason stretching just beyond him. "I feel wrong." All those lonely tendrils of thought, groping for the place that's gone, sliding around in his head with pain that isn't physical. He can't even try to describe it. "It's like--"
"You merged too much."
Lex nods carefully, trying to make the thoughts close around it, like grass covering a grave. And what a fucking odd metaphor to use. "I--wondered."
"It was difficult to extract you without--damage."
"Why did I go into cardiac arrest?"
The AI hums softly. "The earlier damage to your brain was--not fully healed. I should have anticipated this result. You were more vulnerable to the other presence." The silence that follows makes Lex wonder, but not enough to open his eyes. "When you collapsed, I was forced to remove you very suddenly." Another pause. "There were complications this time. You had not--I was unable to be--careful."
Lex searches slowly. All his own memories of there still exist, but the other Lex, that other life-- "What did it do to him?"
The AI's voice is quiet. "I do not know."
Lex draws in a slow breath. Christ. "He was already damaged. Insane."
"I see."
But he's not here now. The other Lexes are, in some shape or form, like his own memories but not quite, but not that one, just the flat memories of memories, the things that Lex showed him. The ragged edges of the pull are almost visible in his head. "It's like--I feel like I've lost something."
"I was able to extract you whole." The AI pauses again, and Lex is staring to hate those. "Your mind was--entwined with his. He did not want you to leave. It was very difficult to prepare either of you. He fought me."
And lost. Lex bites down, trying to push it aside. He didn't find shit on Xerxes, except that Lionel had controlled him, somehow. And he did--that. "His mind was fucked already. He was--" Crazy. "He wanted me to stay. He said my presence made him better."
"You might have exerted a stabilizing influence on his mind, yes." There's a gentleness in the voice that he's never heard before.
"This--I might have destroyed what was left of him." Lex thinks of Clark, leaning over him, telling him no one should have to kill their own father. And telling Clark-- "He never told. He was better. I lied." Christ. "They tortured him for almost half his life and he never told."
"You should not blame yourself."
Lex almost laughs. "I--don't pour on the bullshit. I won't for long. I never do." Just carry it around with him, that place in his mind where that Lex had clung too hard, needing what he was. His skin still feels so wrong, too tight, too thick. "I feel wrong."
"The damage was extensive. More extensive than anticipated. I do not know what that will mean for further--"
Lex almost sits up. Almost. "What?"
The AI seems to be bracing for something. "I don't know that your mind can survive that damage again. While I can restore brain tissue, I cannot--guarantee--that you won't be. Lost."
"Crazy? That'd be par for the course--"
"No. Your self. Your--being. The man who lives in this skin."
Lex's mouth twists. "You mean a *soul*? I never pegged you as the romantic type."
"That is a word humans use to describe it. The collection of experiences and thought-patterns that are yours alone. I cannot restore that if it is lost. This time, it was not easy to--assure that." Another of those fucking pauses. "Until you awoke, I was not sure if that had survived this time."
Slowly, it comes to him. What the AI is trying so carefully to say, then trying not to say at all. "This feeling--my mind feels like something was--"
"The merge was incomplete. The other Lex was a part of you, as the others were not. He wanted to keep you, this unique combination of memories and thought patterns. And he almost succeeded. What that is--is the place he was, that he made for himself in you. I was forced to--remove him so I could remove you."
Lex breathes sllowly, trying not to move his head. That place moves with him, and it aches in a way he thinks he'll never lose. "Will it always be there?"
"I do not know."
Lex concentrates on his body. It's his--he knows it. "And me? Did you have to pull--was I too far in him, or was he too far in me?" He's having trouble wrapping around the concept, but somehow, he thinks he understands. "It--it was not just him, was it? It was--I was part of him, too."
"I explained the dangers of this. Of letting the other self touch you too much."
Yeah. Lex remembers. "I didn't mean to." He hadn't. He'd needed that Lex, and his own sanity was the only way he could use him. "I--he was--" So broken. Lex blinks hard. "There wasn't any other way. He couldn't even function. It was all instinct and--" Lex stops. "My father did that to him. His father. The same thing. They did that to us."
The AI doesn't say anything.
"He locked us in there because of what we knew. He left us there to rot, to--he did things to us. I don't know what. I don't want to know what." Christ. That place. "He made our whole world one lie. There was--he was broken." And when I left--when I left-- "Will he be okay?"
"I cannot predict. If he is cared for, he may recover. He will--have some of your memories. The things he touched in your mind, as you have his. He did not possess the same degree of neural damage you have, so the physical aspect is probably negligible."
"But this--" Lex touches his head lightly, brushing the skin with the tips of his fingers. It feels new.
"He will feel that too. That--loss."
Lex rolls onto his side, careful of the IV. "I need to rest. Can you--" He doesn't want to think anymore. If he dreams, he doesn't want to remember them, either.
"A sedative can be administered." Lex feels the brush of something against his inner arm, a drone pulling away just as he lets his eyes flicker open. Closing them, the rush is like the AI pulling him out, but this time with no pain.
Nothing at all, really. Just warmth, and softness, and emptiness. He wonders if he'll ever stop feeling it.
*****
A few hours of wandering around the Fortress leaves him a little more familiar with his body. It's his--slipping around him like an old glove, well-worn and fitted to him--but that feeling remains, lingering on the edges of his mind.
He needs something to *do*.
"You should rest."
And the AI doing its best impression of a mother hen isn't helping. Lex almost growls, taking a seat at the main screen, just to get it to shut up. "I'm fine."
"You are recovering." The AI isn't above casual brutality. "Your brain is still fragile. The work done to repair the damage is not yet complete."
"When can I go again?" That last universe; Christ, the mission went to hell in a hand basket. Nothing new to add, and it had been so close--Lionel *controlled* the fucker. Shit. Shit, shit, *shit*.
The AI hums, in that way that makes Lex nervous. "I don't think it would be advisable at this time."
Lex turns in the chair, staring up at the screen. "What do you mean?"
"After your last experience, I am uncertain if it is logical to continue." Lex barely has time to grasp the words before the AI continues. "The damage was far more extensive than even I anticipated."
"But that thing's still out there."
The AI can't argue that. Lex waits, trying to force down impatience. "When I considered this course of action, I did not anticipate that your body may not be able to handle the stress."
"I'm dead anyway." Lex taps on the table with the tips of his fingers. Somehow, it grounds him. It's different, but then, everything's different, even if he doesn't know how. "We're all dead."
"Further research--"
"We don't have time for further research." This almost feels rote. "How far has the reassembling come?"
The AI is silent for a few seconds. "It will be functional in less than ten days."
Lex rubs his forehead, urging away the ache. "Is there anything you can do to--make it less dangerous? I have to go. We both know that."
The AI makes a hum that's amusingly close to a sigh. "I can repair destroyed and damaged neurons. Your own healing can accomplish much on its own. The damage is in the merging of the two psyches. If you can avoid absorption of the other--"
"He didn't want to let me go. He was--different. He could just--take over."
"That was from the weakening from the second jump." The AI pauses mid-hum. "You cannot allow that much again--"
"I didn't allow it this time!" Maybe the insanity, the winding twists of that Lex's mind. Maybe the drugs, or the seizures, or everything in between. Lex closes his eyes. "How long until it would be safe enough for me to go?"
"Never. But the optimal would be within the next six hours."
Lex stiffens. That's--not nearly as long as he expected.. "How long was I out?"
"It took three days to stabilize you and repair the damage."
Three days. Lex blinks, trying to put the information in context. Three days. *Three days*. "I almost died."
"Death was never a concern. What would have been left would have lived and breathed. You would not have been there to experience it, however."
Lex closes his eyes. "Your bedside manner sucks."
"I do not want you to take needless risks. You are correct; during the time you were unconscious, I researched other possibilities. There were none."
"Except for time."
"Yes. Except for time."
Lex nods, pushing himself up. "I should eat something. Call me in six hours." He stumbles--still adjusting to a healthy body and stronger muscles. "I--can I be alone?"
"If that is what you wish."
Lex nods and walks out.
*****
At some point during his time away, the AI had been busy. The small room he's been using had a rug by the bed, the blanket in dark purple simulated wool blend, soft to the touch. He hadn't brought much with him, and the AI still used Clark Kent as a model for modern fashion, but the clothes in the closet fit better than his most talented tailor could provide. Lex ate and showered, mind blank, dressing slowly in the small room. At some point, the temperature had risen; his skin didn't goosebump despite being wet. Soft, almost-leather boots wait in the closet, but he doesn't bother with those.
It's easier just to stretch slowly on the covers, eyes closed.
"I thought he betrayed me," Lex tells the air. He's not stupid. The AI is monitoring every breath. "Just answer. I know you're watching. What did you think I'd do, hang myself in the bathroom? I'm not him. Any of them." All of them.
"I was leaving you your privacy. Monitoring your vital signs is necessary."
"He was crazy, that other one. That Lex." Lex draws in a breath. "I never remembered Belle Reve, not really. Not like that." Lex pauses, licking his lips. "I never told Dad what I was. When I was younger--when you're a kid, you don't notice stuff like that. ODs that never end up any closer to a death certificate than an overnight in a hospital ward. Being able to walk away from--" Christ, from so much. "I knew--something. He never did. He thought--I don't know what he thought. He guessed, but he was never--sure."
"Your father was ruthless."
"My father had cancer once." Lex's hand goes automatically to his side, tracing the invisible scars of pointless operations. "He was dying. I know he'd do that. He tried it before with this rock.... But that place--he kept me there. A living, breathing--" Lex's breath stops. "He *kept* me there. To use. An organ bank. A living miracle. His own private fountain of immortality." His fingers refuse to unclench. "That wasn't a father. That wasn't even human."
"He was--Kal spoke of him."
Lex laughs softly. "Clark thought he could save him, too. Once."
Yeah, he gets the feeling the AI's lost on that one too. Lex shuts his eyes. "I--you know what I've done. What I'd still do. I know he did it, because I would have done it. That Lex didn't get it, but I do. He said he saw me, but he didn't see anything at all. Dad and I had a lot in common. Neither of us, in the end, were ever as human as Clark."
"Do you believe that?"
"You should *know* that." Turning his head, Lex wishes the computer had a corporeal form. The amusement in the simulated voice grates over his nerves. "I've seen your databanks. You know everything. Even Clark knew, eventually. That you can't just--that some people you can't save." From other things? Yes. From themselves? Never.
"You're still alive, Lex Luthor."
In the strictest sense of the word. "Yeah." Lex opens his eyes on the ceiling. "Why didn't you tell him to kill me?"
"Kal refused to take a life. He was--strangely adamant on that point." The AI sounds confused, but Lex isn't. When you see so much death, like Clark did, watched it around you every day, bathed in it, you only had two choices in the end. You stopped caring or you didn't. Clark didn't grow harder as he grew up, and that might have been his greatest weakness. "Your death, however, would have created a void that could have caused--significant problems for Kal and the remainder of the Justice League. It seemed wiser to terminate that line of consideration."
"Better the organized devil you know than the one that might cause chaos?"
"Despite your moral depravity, you were a gifted businessman and researcher. The risks, in the end, outweighed the potential gain." Lex almost grins. Moral depravity. Heh. "You would have been an extraordinary scientist."
"Being at the top of the Bell Curve doesn't change the ambition. I wasn't meant for that." Though one Lex was. Lex shies away from the thought, pushing down the associated memories. "When that thing is dead, you know nothing changes. They were right--this world, it's mine. It can be. No Superman, no Justice League to organize against me. All of it, everything in it."
"If that is what you want, I have no doubt you'll succeed."
And damned if it doesn't sound amused. Lex lets his thoughts drift. "How much longer?"
"Five hours, ten minutes."
Lex nods, letting himself relax into the bed. "Wake me up when it's time."