Title: "Descending" (revised)
Author: Clannadlvr
Fandom: Smallville
Characters: Helen
Rating: PG
Summary: Helen's thoughts after she leaves Lex on the plane…
A/N: A big thanks to the reviewers who noticed the inconsistency between the original version of this ficlet and the show. Yes, Helen jumps- Lex doesn't push her. facepalm It's been a while since I wrote this 20 minute challenge, so I incorrectly wrote the summary line. Canon consistency is a big deal for me, so unless I've specifically gone AU... Thanks again to Thessaly and the others for catching this!
Poetic justice?
Was that why he did it?
Getting back on that plane one more time…champagne in chinking crystal goblets…the islands so close by…
She should have known. He was Lionel's flesh and blood, after all. Who better to pull her strings than the son of the ultimate puppet master himself?
As Helen drifted down slowly toward the choppy water, she tried to tell herself that she was surprised. She tried to tell herself that she'd fallen in love with a good man, a forgiving man. A man who listened to her horror stories of patients who didn't make it. Who smirked at her running commentary on the banality of Smallville and the wonders of creamed corn. Who told her the truth about his transgressions…braving all of her hurt and rage the day before she would have made him the happiest man on earth.
A man who turned the other way while she plotted and planned, who picked out china patterns and his and hers Mercedes while she handed Lionel the means to string her up without even a second thought.
Didn't she deserve this?
He was a good man, after all.
She'd been taught responsibility when she was growing up. A dog at age ten…a part-time job at fourteen…that sensible sedan on her sixteenth birthday…a trip to the Bahamas for making the Dean's list all four years of college.
A trip she'd never taken because her med-school interviews took precedence.
Well, it looked like she was finally getting that one way ticket to sandy beaches and shark infested waters.
The choppy blue-black switched from trot to run below her…she pulled the cord, relishing the jerk upward, the cut of the rope into her arms and legs.
It bit fiercely, only matched by the sting of air in her eyes and sickening coat of ironic fear that turned her insides to lead.
A one way trip to the same hell she'd put him through.
But he was a good man, after all.
At least he'd let her take the parachute.
