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When Clark thinks about what happened that day in Lionel's office, he can't suppress a full-body shudder. He remembers x-raying the wall and realizing that Lucas was planning to kill Lex. Then, crawling desperately through the vent system, wanting nothing more than to tear the door open and physically stop Lucas, hurt him. But he knew in that self-preserving corner of his mind that he couldn't do that, because Lex would know. Lionel would know. That creep Lucas would know. Looking down through the grate, seeing the way Lucas tried to force Lionel's hand--force him to kill Lex--Clark had felt understandably panicked, but mostly, he'd felt triumphant. He hadn't liked Lucas from the minute he'd seen him, gliding up Clark's driveway, looking for all the world like he belonged in Lex's passenger seat. He didn't belong there, though. Not even if he was the little brother, back from the dead. Clark should have been happy for Lex, who had been alone for so long. Only, Clark hadn't been happy at all. Lex didn't need a little brother, not anymore. And he especially didn't need anyone else in his life who would make him keep secrets from Clark, like not telling Clark that he'd been searching for Lucas for months. Probably since Rachel Dunlevy's disastrous arrival in Smallville. So instead of being happy, Clark had been upset, uneasy. He'd felt like he needed to protect Lex from his own brother. Finding out that Lucas had stabbed Lex in the back by teaming up with Lionel had validated Clark's immediate dislike; he'd been right not to trust Lucas. That moment in the office, seeing Lucas goad Lionel, with Lex restrained and helpless, Clark hadn't been scared. He'd felt strangely calm, vaguely placated. He'd been right about Lucas all along. He was only going to hurt Lex. He had never deserved Clark's respect or regard. Clark hadn't hesitated to use his heat vision on Lucas. He'd been satisfied when the gun dropped to the floor with a muted clatter. Seeing Lionel turn his gun on Lucas and fire two shots shouldn't have been unexpected, and Clark had had ample opportunity to stop it. But he hadn't. He hadn't even tried. He's horrified when he thinks about it now. He tells himself that he wants to help people, but in that situation, he'd helped only the person he cares about: Lex. The worst thing, and the part that truly horrifies him, is that he doesn't feel guilty about letting Lionel get those shots off. He doesn't feel guilty that he would have let Lucas die. He hadn't known that the guns were loaded with blanks, and yet he hadn't done a thing to stop Lionel from shooting because he hadn't wanted to save Lucas. He should be ashamed. He knows he should. But he isn't. He'd watched Lucas release Lex, seen them walk out of Lionel's office together, and he'd wished the guns hadn't been loaded with blanks. And that scares him. END
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