#coda

Clark stands still for a moment, not sure how to respond. Lex had just been through a lot-- Clark had just been through a lot. He blanks a little at the idea of anyone thinking of Lex as a freak, when Lex is so-- much. Bigger than life, cool and collected, someone to aspire towards even if he does have his battles with darkness. It doesn't compute in Clark's head. "You mean-- you think you're one of the meteor power people?" is what tumbles out of his mouth, and he winces at his own tactlessness.

Lex snorts. "If you'd like to put it bluntly, then sure. I'm a 'meteor power person'. Videlicet, a freak." He lifts his glass to take a sip of the drink in his hand that seems everpresent these days.

Clark swallows hard and sits down next to him, interrupting the movement. He keeps his eyes on Lex's face, gaze intense. "Lex, that doesn't make you a freak. Even if it is true."

He scoffs. "Clark, the day of the meteor shower, I didn't just lose my hair. I think it cured my asthma too. I haven't gotten sick a day since. I heal faster than other people, my white blood cell count is through the roof-- I never put it together before, because... well, who keeps track of how fast a bruise heals? But that's how I survived the car crash, it must be. What else would you call that but being a freak? An abberation?"

"If that's really what happened, Lex, then you're not a freak. You're just different. And you once told me that different isn't so bad. People all over are scrambling to be different, it just means you've got something they all want." His tongue darts out to wet his lip, and he leans in closer, hand on the back of the couch behind Lex, begging him silently to listen, to let go of the pain bleeding through the cracks in his words. "Being able to heal from things doesn't make you a freak. It makes you a survivor. It means you'll always get another chance."

Lex meets Clark's eyes, something considering in his gaze. "...Another chance, huh?" He muses quietly. "You really think that, don't you?"

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head and leaning back slightly. "Of course I do, I wouldn't lie about this." He tacks on the last bit so it isn't a lie in and of itself, before the guilt can eat him alive. He sucks in a breath, wondering how much to tell Lex, and Lex waits, watches him weighing his options. "There... Lex, there are other people in Smallville that are... different. Like I told you."

Lex nods, bitterness overtaking his expression. "Ah, yes, no doubt the very people who've turned Smallville into such a dangerous town. The crime per capita in Smallville is astonishing."

Clark shakes his head. "No! ...Well, yes, some of them. But Lex-- don't give me that look, I know you're judging me right now for being a hopelessly naive optimist, but Lex, some of them are just people. They just live their lives, trying not to make waves, being helpful and nice and living life and being normal, even though they're different. None of them are freaks, and you're not a freak either. You're not doomed to suffer forever just because the meteors made you different."

Lex absorbs this for a moment, leaning forward to set his glass on the coffee table. He stays like that, rests elbows on knees, rubs a hand over his mouth. "...Normal lives, huh?"

Clark nods eagerly. He twists so one knee is under him, turning his whole body to face Lex. "Yeah! The mechanic... Van killed him. But he could stretch, like crazy far. Chloe once saw him grab a wrench three feet away. And there must be others, too. If you're one of them... being different doesn't make you wrong, or bad."

Lex nods a little to himself, rolling the information over in his mind. Clark chews on the inside of his cheek, hoping the argument hits home. After a long silence, Clark barrels forward once more, feels awkward just letting it hang.

"And you know, I'd never judge you for it. Even if the whole world was just a bunch of Vans, I'd still know you were good. That the meteors had nothing to do with making you who you are. You're just... you're just you. Lex Luthor is different for a lot of reasons, but it doesn't make him better or worse. And it'll never make him a freak."

Lex turns his head, unshed tears shining in his eyes, a loose smile on his face. "I know you wouldn't, Clark. You're a good guy." He turns away, a little too overwhelmed by emotion to maintain eye contact, but the smile remains. "I was starting to think pretty dark thoughts. But you pulled me back. Thank you, Clark."

Clark's heart squeezes in his chest, and he puts a hand on Lex's shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze. "Hey, of course, Lex. Anytime. Everyone gets dark thoughts, it's all about finding your way back from them."

"A helping hand from a good friend never hurts." Lex replies, patting Clark's hand. "You know, all this time I thought of you as my savior. My second chance at life, the guy who gave me my life back." Clark ducks his head, stuck between flattered and overwhelmed. "But maybe I was wrong. If I really do heal, if that really is why I survived the crash... maybe I gave myself the second chance. Maybe I'm the one who gets to fix my life."

Clark's heartbeat thuds in his ears. Does he want that? The weight of Lex's obsession is intense, but does he want it pivoted away from him so easily? Just like that? "That's probably the healthier way to look at it," he says faintly.

Lex chuckles. "Mmn, probably. I wasn't wrong, though, we have a destiny. We're linked, you and me, even if I have to save myself." Before Clark can respond to that, Lex says "How about we split the difference? I saved myself on the bridge. But you were the one who helped me see that now, during this very conversation. I'll do the swimming, but you gave me the revelation I need to start kicking my feet."

Clark nods slowly, smile slowly growing across his face. "Yeah, I think I can live with that."

Lex turns suddenly, drawing Clark into a hug. He freezes for a moment, unsure, then awkwardly pats Lex on the back. When that doesn't end the hug, he stays still for a moment longer, then gives in and hugs Lex back for real, a powerful and crushing hug.

"I can heal. I just need to use my chance." Lex murmurs, almost more to himself.

"You're not a freak. And I'll always be in your corner anyway." Clark responds, just as quiet.

Lex nods, then finally releases Clark.

"Maybe I should find other people who are meteor-effected. Try and start a sort of support group." Lex muses.

"I'm not sure you'd be anle to get anyone to agree to that," Clark says nervously. "They probably don't want to end up on a list anywhere."

"We don't know the long-term effects. What we should really have is a group that meets for support, and testing to make sure we aren't-- I don't know..."

"Growing super cancer?" Clark ventures.

"Exactly. Growing super cancer." Lex confirms.

"I, uh, really don't think anyone wants to be experimented on." Clark says, picking at the back of the couch. He forces his hand still before he rips a hole in it.

"It wouldn't be experiments, Clark, it would be medical testing to make sure there aren't extreme negative side effects. Keeping people alive and healthy. Maybe a few tests to find people's limits, too, but just so they don't hurt themselves in the future... and who knows what kind of medical breakthroughs meteor-altered biology could lead to... and what if their meteor mutations hurt them? Finding a way to neutralize it so they're not brought to further harm..." He's mumbling now, clearly sorting through future plans, and panic rises in Clark's throat.

"Lex, you can't experiment on people!" He says in a panic.

"Like I said, it wouldn't be experiments... but I should take things one step at a time. I only just found out that I may-- may-- have been meteor effected. I should get my own life in order before I reach out to anyone."

Clark sighs, feeling weary. Better than nothing, he supposes.

"Thank you again, Clark. For everything." Lex places a hand on his chest, as if feeling his own heartbeat. "I haven't felt this... centered in a long time."

Anyway, Coda is now upon us, and perhaps the best thing one can say is that it’s almost impossible to make either too much or too little out of the record. Whether this was really all that Zeppelin had stored up in the vaults is between you, me, and the accountants, but I would wager a yes vote in the light of the fact that, of the eight tracks here, two are covers and one is literally just John Bonham thrashing away at all those drums of his. And the remaining five clock in at an average of under four and a half minutes, a full 60 seconds less than the time it usually takes just for these guys to boil water (“Communication Breakdown,” “Immigrant Song,” “Tangerine,” “Rock ’n’ Roll,” and "Dancing Days” excluded, of course.)

Which is not to say that Coda is without worth, because it does have its strong points. Especially on side two, where discounting “Bonzo’s Montreux,” and the aforementioned crash course in head banging augmented solely by Page’s “electronic treatments” (utterly aimless percussive noodling on the old synth), there are three songs all recorded in ’78 that make you wish that In Through The Out Door had been the double album instead of Physical Graffiti (that record is pretty much what I thought this one was going to sound like, but without the custard pie “Boogie With Stu” or “Kashmir”). “Wearing And Tearing” is this album’s winner of the Black Dog seal of mayhem award for its barefoot-in-Bizzaroland breakneck riffing and what is undoubtedly the most outre Buddy Holly reference I’ve ever heard, when right near the end, Page tosses into the whirlwind the intro from “I’m Gonna Love You Too.”

“Ozone Baby” sports some authentic radioactive guitar spillage as well as sleight-of-hand dribble ’n’ shoot bass work by John Paul Jones. And “Darlene,” with its piano-shufflin’ ‘50s ease and Plant’s unhippified “I got a pink carnation and a pick-up truck” stance, neatly foreshadows most of what’s going on on Pictures At Eleven.