by Tha Wrecka
He hadn't meant for it to happen but she'd been beautiful, in a victimish sort of way, dirty and spotted in blood. She'd been so relieved that he'd saved her and desperate, so desperate and clingy that he let her.
"Thank you," she muttered one more time before she kissed him.
Her lips were dirty and her nails sharp as she held him in place. Her lips opened and he could taste blood in her mouth.
She muttered 'thank you' again before she drifted out of consciousness.
She only stayed in the hospital long enough for one visit. He kissed her on the forehead and told her to get better. She smiled up at him, wanly, dark circles around her eyes.
He felt guilty as he left.
It was too easy to let it all happen. Terribly easy to avoid Chloe and Pete, to lie to his parents.
Lana came over to talk and they sat in the darkest part of the barn. They talked about the tornado, it's destruction, the ruin of the truck in glorious detail and the exact nature of her injuries.
She talked about her parents, again. She was calm, but her eyes were bright. He might have called her obsessed, had he not wanted her to continue. She was creepy when she spoke of them, like Lex got when he talked about his father, like Chloe got when she talked about The Truth.
He let her kiss him again, blind fumbles in the dark. Her hands were awkward, patting his face slightly. Hesitant touches, he allowed her to take what she needed.
"Nobody knows me like you do," she said, leaving.
He certainly knew her pain.
They made trips to the graveyard, hand in hand. She led him through the rows of headstones, telling him who died when and how. He asked for extra details about those who died in the meteor shower, or later, because of it.
They talked to her dead parents, carried out full conversations, seated on the dirt in the dark. She laughed a lot, and the sound was like a death rattle.
Their first time was in the graveyard, awkward and cold against the angel. He let her take charge, moving up and down on him in the pale moonlight. She was cold and wet inside and her skin looked grey. Her tiny gasps sounded broken, painful.
It had been strangely satisfying to know she'd bled.
Their second time had been in her room, while Nell was out. He'd let her wear the necklace and the green rock had hung between her breasts, taunting him with her parent's death. He'd moaned and thrashed about on the bed, equal parts pain and pleasure.
He passed out when he climaxed and when he came to Lana wasn't wearing the necklace any more.
She patted his head, like a girl with a doll, and said, "I didn't think that happened outside romance novels."
He knew then that he had to tell her.
It hadn't turned out like he'd planned.
As he bumbled through the explanations, stuttered though 'alien' and 'strange powers' she grew readily more distressed. Her eyes narrowed in anger and her fists clenched.
"How could you?" she spat out.
"I'm sorry, Lana, I..."
"All this time you've been lying to me, Clark," she said.
"I never wanted to. I had to keep it secret, don't you see?"
"You kept this from me. You knew how much my parents meant to me and you didn't think to tell me this!"
"Lana, please," he begged.
"Never speak to me again," she yelled, and dramatically ran out of his life.
Clark knew this was how it should be, that he should be made to suffer. As he watched her cry through his telescope, Clark reminded himself of all the pain he had caused Lana, kept reminding himself of how much pain he had caused her with his continued existence. He reminded himself until the thought began to lose it's potency.
Lex, he thought with the determination only the truly haunted have, is just as broken. Lex will let him touch his pain. Lex will let him wallow.
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