Title: The Call
Author: Diana_Troy
Summary: Lana gets a phone call from someone.
Distribution: Christie and Sheena and anyone else who wants it, just drop a line.
AN: Just a little something that popped out of me at 4am way back in June… haven't had time to brush it up till now. Keep in mind the 4am'ness of it all, k? Takes place after Exodus.
It's closing time when I get the call.
…
"Lex- what's up?" I cringe at my informality, but he answers nonetheless.
"My plane crashed," he pauses, but I don't react.
"Helen's dead." I gasp at the news, at his indifference… whatever.
"Tell no one." He stops after that and in the silence I decide I want to laugh at the detached tone in his voice. Not because I don't believe what he's just said, but because only Lex Luthor could make news as devastating as that sound like your regular "Hi, how are you? Really? I'm swell."
I've begun to hear a buzz in my right ear, when he clears his throat and asks how I am. I pause briefly to wonder if now would be the right time to unload, and then laugh -because there could never be a right time- and take on his totally detached voice.
"Clark's left town; Chloe's furious with me; and I've taken up permanent residence in the backroom of the Talon."
Unlike him, I plow right through, which probably shows my age and desperation but at this point I don't care.
There's a pause on the other end.
Then static, and then…
a laugh. And I laugh, too...
...at the total and complete constancy in it all
Love and then loss. Something I've come to accept as the sad but true reality that is the not only the Langs, but the Luthors, as well.
A never ending cycle that fate seems to enjoy throwing us in over and over again till our color fades and our bodies wear from the misuse.
It's enough to make a person insane- or at least incredibly devoid of emotion.
With that thought, I smile into the phone.
"Hey Lex.." I bait him, drawing out his name and then pausing to make sure he's still on the line.
He is.
"Looks like we've been abandoned."
There's a pause, again, and I can literally *feel* his smirk from the other end of the line.
"Story of our lives, Miss Lang, story of our lives."
The line cuts.
I wait a beat before hanging up… wanting to hold onto that feeling of glorious indifference for just a moment longer. It takes me a moment to wonder why.
Nothing has been resolved, nothing has been made better.
But for once in my life I don't feel so incredibly alone
And I like the feeling.
