It was only midnight, but I didn't go home. I just walked. For two hours I walked around downtown, hardly thinking about anything because it hurt so much. I kicked gravel, smiled briefly to passersby, and waited. I was almost envious of my old self – getting things done without the complication of feelings and emotions getting in my way.

I began to worry about my thesis. I hadn't worked on it much since I met Lana. What would I do if suddenly Lana and I were no more? Would I even be able to concentrate in college?

My mind was troubled with unanswered questions and stressful worries, until I finally noticed Lana slip out of the back door of The Pulse.

With the help of a tiny bit of super speed, I was behind her in a flash. "So?"

She turned to me, her face still filled with sadness, but no tears. Her lips pursed together, as she tried desperate to think of a way to start her story. "Clark, I swear, I never meant to hurt you."

I swallowed, preparing myself for what I thought was the worst. "He's your boyfriend, isn't he?"

She looked down, her face cringing to stop any more tears from forming in her eyes.

A small whisper emitted from her lips. "No."

I stared at her in confusion, not sure whether I should be relieved or not.

She took a breath as she began the familiar walk towards her apartment. "When I met him, he was just another guy who enjoyed requesting me. I didn't think anything of him. But the more times he requested me, the more times he attended the club until he was coming almost every night."

I followed next to her, not daring to speak. I had to hear this story.

"After a while, he started to tell me how we were meant for each other – and one day we were going to be married."

My hands automatically clenched into tight, rock-hard fists. All I wanted to do was pound that loser's face in. I couldn't believe this was happening, but I tried to remain calm. "And?"

"And the next day, Dean got a phone call. It was Lionel Luthor, asking to meet with Dean that afternoon." Lana stopped everything – walking and talking. She was turned away from me, eyes darting from lampposts to windows until she finally gained the confidence to look at me again. "Whitney is Lionel Luthor's youngest son."

A large lump rose in my throat. It couldn't be…

"Lionel told Dean that if I didn't marry Whitney, The Pulse would go up in flames and neither Dean nor I would get another decent-paying job for the rest of our lives. And Dean…he tried to fight him at first, but he's Lionel Luthor…he can do pretty much anything." She sighed, rubbing her faces in her hands with dread. "We were scheduled to be married when he got back from his trips in Europe, but now that they've been delayed…it might happen sooner than I thought…I can't help but think that Whitney talked his father into coming back early just so we could make it sooner..."

It felt as though I'd been driving blindfolded, and my eyesight had been restored just seconds before my car collided into a brick wall. Maybe if I'd known about this before I was informally introduced to Whitney I could figure out a way – even if only temporary – that I could stop this, but now…it seemed like there was nothing I could do.

I slowly swallowed the lump that had been in my throat since the news, trying to think of what to say. A lot in my mind was telling me it was hopeless, but I was too stubborn to listen or even acknowledge that was there. "Well…there has to be a way around this. I – "

"No, Clark, please don't waste your time trying to help me. Dean and I have already tried." She sighed, turning away from me. "This is why I never told you – I knew how you would be. I knew you'd want to save me somehow and it just…it won't work."

"You can't say that, Lana. You can't give up." I moved closer to her, twirling her back around to face me, proving that I wasn't going to back down easy. "This is your life. And you shouldn't marry someone you don't love."

She slowly looked up into my eyes meaningfully, but then dropped the gaze with a shrug, backing away from me a bit. "I never said I didn't love him."

My mouth dropped. "Come on, Lana. The guy is taking complete advantage of you. He doesn't love you just as much as you don't love him. The only reason he's with you is because you'd make a perfect trophy wife in the Luthor family."

"You only saw him for two minutes, Clark. Why are you so quick to judge?" With anger, she trudged off towards her apartment on her own. After about four feet, she turned around and added, "You know, maybe we don't really love each other all that much now, but we'll have the rest of our lives to learn how to do that. I'd rather be with him than spend the rest of my life on the streets, pretending like love doesn't exist."

I stared at her with the biggest look of confusion on my face. "When we first met, you told me you weren't allowed to love. So either that was a lie, or what you just spat at me a few seconds ago is."

She bit her lip, still angry, but now looking mildly defeated. "It doesn't matter, Clark. The fact is that I'm getting married and…it's probably best if we just…didn't see each other anymore."

I narrowed my eyes, shaking my head in disbelief. "How can you even suggest that, Lana?"

"I'm serious, Clark. Stay away from me before the Luthors' see you as a threat." She turned back around to leave.

"Just tell me one thing," I exclaimed, causing her to stop in her tracks.

She reluctantly looked back again, trying not to look interested and trying to hide her watery eyes. "What?"

I took a deep breath, preparing to learn the answer to the one question that really bothered me. "When I told you that I loved you on that stage…why did you kiss me back?"

She stared at me plainly, already giving me the answer I needed, but her words added to the received feeling. "Because…because no one's ever told me that they loved…me before. It's usually 'I love you, Electra' or 'I love you, Baby'…" Her mind dazed off for a moment, as though as was trying to really grasp on how it felt to be loved, but she tugged herself out of that moment as she continued, "…it was just a change…it caught me it off guard is all." I saw the faint trail of a tear reflect on her cheek from the lamppost's light. "I'm really sorry that I lead you on, Clark."

She quickly made her way across the street.

"You can't tell me you didn't feel anything from that kiss, Lana! LANA!"

But her small frame was already out of hearing distance.

My heart was bruised. Just bruised though. Not broken. Hearts only break when the one you love completely ignores or forgets how much you mean to them.

And I knew, without a doubt, that Lana hadn't done either. She was just confused. Underneath the surface, her love for me was there. It was so easy to see that I had no doubt in my mind that Lana would never love Whitney. Her heart already belonged to me.

But the bruise still hurt. It hurt a lot that she was willing to throw away what we could have had because she was scared of the Luthors. All the words she said to me – especially the part where she thought we shouldn't see each other again – didn't go unnoticed by my ears. Maybe it was courageous that she was going to give up her happiness in order to save her uncle's future, but I couldn't stand back and let it happen.

Lana was right. I did feel it was my duty to save her. From the first moment I saw her I felt as though I had to save her. It had been my goal from the beginning.

By the time I'd gotten home that night, I had the rough draft of a plan forming in my head. It had some holes and some big leaps that would require me to cross my fingers to ensure that they would go through successfully, but it would work. It had to work. I couldn't bare the thought of a life without Lana. It wasn't even an option.

And while I was smoothing out the fuzzy parts of my strategy, Lana had found her way home as well. Not planning, but thinking. Confused, crying, and thinking.

She sat, one leg tucked under her on the couch as she ran a hand through her lengthy curtain of hair. Her eyes were wet and stingy, but she was too preoccupied in her own mind to do anything about it.

A quick tap came at her door. She looked up in surprise, squeezing her fingers under her eyes to soak up the tears as she asked, "Who is it?"

"Dean."

A sigh of relief came from her lungs, as she gave up trying to act as though she hadn't been crying. "Come in."

Dean slowly slipped into the small apartment, a friendly smile shining on his face. "Hey, Hun. You did amazing tonight. You and Clark…you're just – "

"Dean, Whitney's back."

He suddenly stopped his praises and looked down at the ground sadly. "I know."

Lana joined him in examining her shaggy rug, not sure of what to say next. But, she figured now was a good a time as any. "I…I told Clark about him."

Dean's eyes shot back to hers in a shock that almost borderlined on anger. "What?"

"Whitney got all on him about the kiss on the stage and later Clark wanted to know why and I just…I didn't know what to say – "

"You should have lied – told him the boy was drunk. Something! Anything but the truth! Why would you do that?" Dean asked, bringing to panic a little.

"Dean, you have to understand…Clark's…Clark's not like any other guy I've ever met. He's genuine and smart and sweet and just…" She picked at her nails as a distraction to the heavy conversation she was involved in. "…I trust him."

He looked away from her, rubbing the vein that had just popped from his forehead. He wandered over to the mirror by the door and watched at Lana's reflection over his shoulder dejectedly. "I knew this would happen if I wasn't too careful."

She stared back at his face in the mirror with curiosity. "What would happen?"

"If you crossed enough guy's paths…you'd find one that tugged at your heartstrings." He turned away from the reflective surface in shame. "I always thought that it would be something to be celebrated, but…it's just made things too complicated."

"It's not your fault…" Lana assured from her place on the couch.

He sat down next to her with a nod. "And it isn't your fault either. So it doesn't seem fair that we should both suffer for what's happened to us."

She took her uncle's hand in her own with encouragement, but wasn't exactly sure what to say.

"So how did Clark take the news?"

The tears threatened to trinkle down her eyes, so she began blinking profusely, trying to keep her cool. "Not very well. I told him to stop seeing me."

Dean nodded once again, keeping his focus on their hands. "I see."

"It hurt so much to push him away, Dean." She buried herself in her uncles chest, letting the crying ensue. "S-so…m-m-much." Sniff. "….He told me he loved me…me…Lana Lang…and I realized…I love him, too. I really…really do..."

Dean's eyes squeezed closed as he tried to fight his own inner tear demon. To him, it had always felt like it was his fault she was bound to Whitney. If he'd never let her work at the club, she wouldn't be in this position. She would be living a semi-normal life and would learn that love didn't always have to be unreachable. What had simply started as a job in a club turned into a flood of guilt deep inside his heart. "I know. I'm sorry, Sweetie. I'm so…so sorry."

He had no other words of comfort for his niece. Nothing he could say would fill the gap in her heart or the similar sized one in his.

It was all up to me.