Soundtrack: Savior - Rise Against

THE TOUCH OF THE DARKNESS

'It's been three months, Lana,' Quinn stated, glancing anxiously over at her, scared, always scared, that he might've crossed a line. Lana didn't respond him. She was staring off into the horizon of the dome, beyond the water.

They were standing on the balcony of her hotel room, Lana smoking a cigaret while Quinn had helped himself to a glass of water.

'Whatever happened in there... We've all given you the chance to get passed that.

'Why haven't you come here in so long?' she asked him suddenly, her voice a hoarse whisper, barely heard over the sound of the waves against the reef down bellow them.

Quinn looked at her questioningly, thinking the answer was obvious. 'You've made it quite obvious to the rest of us that you clearly prefer being on your own.' he said, suddenly feeling less secure, stumbling over his words in a rush to get his point out. 'We all thought it was the best to let you heal in the way that you'd prefer.'

'So why do you still show up here?' she pushed it. 'No one's forcing you to keep coming.'

'The FAYZ works, when we all do our job. You're the only healer, Lana, we can't replace you, even if that's what we wanted. We gave you time to heal, but to some it is starting to seem like you're just taking your time doing nothing up here.'

'But you don't believe that, do you.'

'No.' he said, a sudden urge to be brave appearing in his mind. 'At first, I wasn't sure what I believed. However I knew for a fact that the way your eyes will look so hollow, so haunted, that was pure. I don't think I've ever seen so much agony in a person, Lana. I've seen Sam in pain, but with you, that's different.'

'You still haven't answered my question,' she stated coldly, not the slightest moved by his attempt at emphazising with her. 'The previous one, I mean. About why you always show up here.'

'I care about you,' he stated simply, his words framed with the utter devestation of knowing that whatever he said or did, she'd reject him.

When she said nothing, he dared himself to glance down at her, watching the girl as her eyes were still locked with the nothingness of the sea.

'I don't know what happened to you. I just know that it was bad. I know it messed you up. I know that to some degree you're all of a sudden incapable of functioning in a society, but I don't care about that.' he stated, having no idea where he got this sudden urge from, yet being thankful that he did, because it did seem to break through to her on some level. He sighed in exasperation as he saw her stir, being brought back to reality by his words. 'I just care about you. And I want to help.'

For however long, she just stood there, eyes on the horizon as the sun was closing in on the ocean. She placed the cigarett against her lips and inhaled deeply, not letting any of the smoke escape her lips as she exhaled again. He was sure she'd choke on the smoke, or at least react to it somehow, but not even her eyes seemed to reveal any difference. Then she opened her mouth and relieved him with her words: 'You're right.'

'I... I'm what?' Worst. Comeback. Ever. Then again, Quinn hadn't really expected this reaction, so he just stood there, blinking down at her and waiting suspense-fully for an explanation as for how on earth she had come to the conclusion of being right.

'You're right,' she magically repeated, tossing her only half finished cigarette over the balcony. Her eyes suddenly turned cold and with a glare she continued. 'you don't know what happened.'

Before he even got the chance to come up with a reply, she turned entered the hotel room again, showing the glass wall so hard into place that the glass itself started to vibrate. He opened the door after her and followed in her footsteps. He'd expected her to throw a fit of anger, yell at him or something close enough to it, throw him off guard with some violent move he wouldn't have seen coming.

However he found her on the bed, her shoulders hunched over and her neck bent downwards, her small frame looking so vulnerable. Every time Quinn came to visit, he'd always hope that that day would be different. That that day would be the day she'd let her wall down, open up, talk to him. He'd spent so much time thinking of how he'd get there, that the thought of what he'd say when she was willing to talk had never really struck him.

Hesitantly he walked over to where she was sitting. He sat down further up on the bed, leaving about a foot of space in between them to avoid any mixed feelings or assumptions. He put aside his glass of water on the bedside table before he reached out and grabbed her hand - a bold move on his part - holding it in between both of his own.

'Tell me.' he said. He spoke softly, his voice not the normal nervous, unease of a young, unconfident boy. He sounded determined, yet he did not speak a command. The two words were a simple request, no, an opportunity for her to open. Just this once. To speak her heart out and lay out the horrors in her head, exposing them once and for all.

Quinn could almost make out the wheels in her head spinning, making out the situation, yet he figured that beside her hard focused mind, she somehow wasn't processing what was really going on. She had yet to pull her hand away, or get up off the bed, or yell at him, or tell him to leave, or let her actions speak for her through violent streaks.

Yet she didn't. She stayed there, simply staring into space, thoughts flashing through her mind. Potential memories that may or may not be appropriate for her to tell him. The conceivable responds she might get. The scenarios, every single one that he might lead up to if only she told him.

He sat there patiently, his hands still holding hers, watching her warily. Not a word was spoken, barely a sound made as they sat around, both on edge, loosing their minds due to the intolerable suspense.

Lana turned towards him, her eyes locking with his own. As he stared into her eyes, an old quote came to mind, one he read in some book at school the year before When you look into the void. The void looks back at you. making him feel weird as Lanas eyes did in fact remind him of two soulless vacuums.

Somewhere in between the quickly passing moments, Lana had thrown herself onto Quinn. After so many weeks of him trying to reach out, and her constant denial, he had lost all hope. His mind was elsewhere as her hands reached out to slip around his neck. She leaned towards him, the light tug on the back of his head leaving a simple implement for him to do the same. And so without a single though entering his mind; he obliged.

And their lips met.

The first though that reached Quinns mind? She should really cut down on the cigarettes. As realization seemed to finally dawn on him, that was the first thought that seemed to reach him, though it was clearly overpowered within seconds as he soon began to enjoy the feeling of her lips against his own.

She acted shyly, not daring to go any further, letting Quinn take the lead for once. He leant backwards in the bed, her following close behind, keeping her lips on his as the scene got more heated.

Somewhere in between the sucking at each others skin and heavy gasps for air, they had rolled over onto the far corner of the bed, Quinn slamming his elbow into the nightstand in the process. For a second they both stopped and stared at each other, Quinn starting to feel slightly too exposed as Lana laid beneath him, staring into his eyes yet again.

However she didn't pull back, she laughed. She laughed at his clumsy, awkward attitude and before he was able to comprehend the absurd scene unfolding before him, she had yet again closed the distance between the two of them, grinding her body against his as their heated kisses continued.

They rolled over once again, Lana on top of Quinn as she pulled off his shirt. He felt himself growing nervous at where things were headed, but there was no time for commenting on it, because as he helped her with getting his shirt off, his arm slammed into the table anew, this time slamming into his glass of water as well.

The glass wobbled, fell over onto its side - spilling was was left of the liquid - and rolled across the cabinet, slipping over the edge and colliding with the floor. It didn't happen in slow motion, it simply occurred very slowly, yet they were both too absent-minded for either of them to react before the glass had fractured.

While bumping into the glass had drawn no attention, the sound of it shattering certainly did. Quinn was still more interested in the girl on top of him, yet Lana drew away immediately, sitting up and looking around to see what had caused the sudden disruption.

Her eyes went from Quinn, to the table, to the floor, and then back at Quinn, before she stared at the floor again, keeping her eyes there as she whispered 'get out.'

Quinn sat up in the bed in response to her command, yet he made no efforts at leaving.

She didn't comment on it any further, she just staid with her back turned at him as her gaze rested upon the shattered glass. However the atmosphere surrounding her - her excessive inhalations, her clenched jaw, her tense body - hinted that she did in fact know that he was still there. And she didn't like it.

Time passed once again. This time though, every minute that passed without a word felt unbearable to him. He sat up straighter, awkwardly moving closer to her and placing his hand on her shoulder. A stupid move.

He expected - no, he hoped - that the outcome would be somewhat positive. That just like at the mineshaft, so many months back, she'd break down, reach out to him, maybe even open up. Yet she just sat there, continuously staring at the ground, and he just sat there, continuously keeping his hand on her shoulder.

And then he felt it. On the right side of his head, right above his temple; cruelty, pain, sorrow, anguish, just a taste of the hundreds of feelings washing over him as the cold metal was held up against his head.

It had been on the bed table, the gun. He had placed the water glass right next to it. How couldn't he have noticed?

Everyone above the age of eight carried a weapon around in the FAYZ. Accustomed to it the way teens used to be to phones. It felt natural seeing the gun lying there. Even in the house of a mentally unstable girl, the signals of danger did not seem to show up in front of him.

'Lana...' he whispered, surprisingly calm, as if he accepted the situation completely. He knew he was an idiot. He had betrayed his best friend for the sake of not being beat up himself. He had started fishing for the sake of private wealth, yet had earned the status of a savior in the town. He had visited a dangerously sensitive girl for months, checking up on how she was doing, then taking advantage of her the first chance he got.

He was selfish. And he accepted that.

'Leave.' She spat at him, looking at him now as she stood and crossed the room to stand a couple of feet in front of him. The gun was directed at the middle of his forehead now.

He got up, staring her straight into the eyes. She held a threatening glare, the colorful orbs of her eyes igniting into certain emotions. He could easily make out the anger in them. Anger at him?

'I'll get you another glass, Lana. I'll clea-'

'It's not about the goddamned glass!' she yelled, her eyes welling up in tears. He wanted to ask her what she meant, but she continued on, every word spilling more misery then the previous one. 'You think you can help me. You can't. This has nothing to do with you, neither will it. Just get out!'

He made no move to leave. His feet as good as glued to the floor.

'I'm gonna...' she continued, her chest heaving now, as she breathlessly tried to complete her sentence. 'I want you out of here. Now. Or else I'll-'

The explosion was sudden. A mere impulse, a spontaneous move Lana didn't plan. She hadn't really kept much attention to the gun as she spoke. Its direction had been off, causing the bullet to grace the side of his leg, yet continuing, empaling the bed behind him instead.

The sudden burning, the blast of adrenaline and blood and pain. The pain was unbearable, and before he knew what was going on, he was on one knee, yelling out in mere agony. And then he was on his feet again, making a beeline at the door as a bullet to the head no longer seemed like the most inviting path.

As he exited the hotel room, he cast one last glance at the dangerous girl collapsing on the floor, Patrick by her side. She was whimpering, clutching her head until her knuckles had turned white. As the door shut behind him he could barely make out her shaking voice weeping. 'Get out of my head.'

So this is basically how I've always imagined the scene when Lana brought it up for Sam in LIES. Or, I've never imagined it being quite that intimate, but I do remember having read one fanfiction before that was very similar to the way I've imagined it, and I want to keep some distance from that story for them not to be compared. Hope it wasn't too out of place, I kind of feel like it worked, now that I've written and edited it.

Thanks again to FAYZlover101 for yet another sweet review, I really appreciate it every single time! However I was kind of hoping to see some of you others reviewing? Even the smallest comment makes my day, just so you know! ;)