Chapter 3: Guilt
Disclaimer: Don't own Smallville, so, um...yeah...
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There she was, standing there. He didn't know why, but she was indeed there.
"Lana," he said. "What are you doing there?"
He could feel himself walking right into the cycle. He would ask a question, he would prod her, she would retaliate. Both would be hurt.
"I came to ask you a favor," she said quietly. She was beautiful.
Maybe the cycle was, indeed, broken.
It went without saying that he was devoted to her, anything she wanted, all she had to do was ask. She knew that and he knew that he was hopeless. There was no hope for him; he was in too deep.
Moving closer to him, she almost whispered. "I need you to look into something."
She dug into her purse and pulled out a folder handing it to him. He looked inside of it. "Lana, I don't understand."
"You don't have to," was her soft reply.
That was when he awoke with a start. He looked around his room wildly. It was a dream. Sitting up, he rubbed his tired eyes. It was early, earlier than he usually went to sleep, but the events of the night compelled him to sleep, sleep rather than be awake, thinking about them, as thinking didn't always do him much good.
He couldn't stop thinking about them.
"Hello, Lex," was how she had greeted him, but from there, from there it went to a place he never imagined it would go. He was confused and bewildered and it was over almost as soon as it had begun.
He laid back down, determined not to let what happened consume his entire night, though he knew perfectly well that that would be in vain; yet there he lie in bed, awake, trying his hardest to be asleep.
Lying down in bed, she pulled up the covers close to her neck, shivering from the cold air which surrounded her. Sighing, she attempted to get some shut-eye, but she couldn't. Thoughts of the night's earlier events clouded her mind, troubling her conscience.
They held her in thrall.
Ethics had been debated since time began and all of those debates were of no consequence now. Now, right and wrong were muddled and mixed and certain actions couldn't be undone.
She wasn't sure if she wanted them to be.
Memories of simpler times, of nights by the fire now came to mind. If she could, she would wish them back and uncomplicate things.
If only that were possible, but as it were, it wasn't, and so she must resolve to live with the consequences her actions have condemned her to–whatever they may be.
Why she had gone to see him, she wasn't even sure. Why was it that even though her trust in him had evaporated he was gaining it back? It was very simple: the more he was around her, the more he proved to her he deserved a second chance.
She was drawn to him.
Ever since she'd known him, he had always been there for her, always advised her and always had her best interest at heart. That was why she was able to turn to him so easy. Though, why had she done it? Why?
That was simple as well: she needed someone to talk to, someone who would understand. It went without saying that he understood her completely.
She turned over in her bed, pulling up the covers even closer to her. A long solitary drive back to her dorm room hadn't even been enough to ease her mind, to clear her thoughts. It seemed that the more she questioned everything the more answers and questions there were to be had, thus proving her suspicion that thinking wasn't always good.
She turned over yet again and this time, she was drifting off into the land of sleep where things were a lot less complicated. At least in her dreams everything made sense.
Guilt can tear at your soul.