He's thought of it too many times, too much. Over thinking things had often been a problem for Clark. So one night he just met her in the middle of Grant's Field. The sky was blue black and the stars popped through and the wind was soft and high in the trees.

"Do you trust me?"

Lana wore a red skirt that swirled around her knees. "Of course." She tucked long black hair behind her ear.

"Are you sure?"

"Clark-"

"I just want you to trust me. I don't want you to ask any questions, or say anything. Something's going to happen, and I just want you to trust me and not say anything."

"Is this bad?" She looked unsure.

"No. You know I would never do anything to hurt you, don't you? That I would rather die then hurt you."

"Yes."

"And you trust me."

"Yes, Clark, I trust you."

"Okay. Are you ready?"

And he took her off the ground.

"Clark!" she breathed, voice breaking in panic, and the fear and doubt and guilt rose up and his heart clenched with uncertainty but he answered her in a strong voice.

"Yes?"

She looked into his eyes and said nothing. She put her arms around him farther and her head against his chest and he carried her higher and higher, until they could feel the wind that blew in the treetops and her hair fell onto her face.

"Are you afraid?" he asked gently.

She kept her eyes clenched shut and her arms around him tightly.

"No." she said strongly. "No."