She did it.

After a day and a half of deliberation, she sent another email to Dr. Henson.

It was a polite inquiry for now. Peyton wanted to see how he would react to getting an email from her, not Lex. And, if he still had the files on their sessions to give her, that couldn't hurt. But for some reason it still felt like she was waiting to hear back about a job opportunity. A certain anxiety simmered low in her gut and she purposefully closed her internet browser to stop herself from constantly refreshing her email.

The last thing she needed to do was sit around in anticipation, so she left her office and headed to the kitchen for lunch. She made sure to pass Lex's office before heading that direction and gave him a wave to let him know things were still fine.

Luckily, there hadn't yet been any more vases or billiard balls, but they still hadn't caught anyone either.

There were a couple people in the kitchen when she walked in. Peyton waved politely to Mrs. Palmer then her daughter, Amy. Amy pressed her lips together and refused to acknowledge her; Peyton felt the cold shoulder from across the room.

Maybe something had happened when Peyton wasn't herself. It wasn't too outrageous to think Amy could have taken Peyton's 'forgetfulness' as an insult during some interaction back in Metropolis.

"I'm just getting a bite to eat," Peyton explained.

Mrs. Palmer nodded.

"Of course, Mrs. Luthor. We're finishing up the linens."

As if to prove her point, Mrs. Palmer folded a hand towel then murmured to Amy that she was going to get the last basket of clean laundry and left the room. Peyton used digging through the fridge as an excuse not to have to feign friendliness with Amy. She could feel the heat of the girl's glare on her back even as she tried to ignore her.

There were leftovers, so Peyton dished some on a plate and slid it in the microwave. From the corner of her eye she could see Amy clenching a hand towel in her fist and gritting her teeth, and Peyton decided it was best to try and clear the air instead of living in perpetual awkwardness. As her plate slowly spun in a circle, she turned and directly faced Amy.

"Are you okay, Amy?"

Amy scowled and her lips pressed more firmly together.

"Am I okay," she repeated in disdain. For a moment it looked like she was going to burst and hurl whatever grievances she had at Peyton. But instead her eyes turned red and she curled into herself as tears started to fall.

"He doesn't really love you," she said in nearly a whisper. "How could he?"

Peyton gaped.

"Excuse me?"

Amy dropped the towel and turned away with a stifled cry. Peyton reached toward her,

but Amy rushed from the kitchen before Peyton could figure out what was going on.

"You don't even share a room."

The statement froze Peyton in place as she watched the girl go. It was all about Lex? Amy couldn't stand her because she was married to Lex? The girl couldn't be older than fifteen.

But, to be fair, that probably didn't matter to a hormonal, love-struck teenager. The microwave dinged and Peyton let it sit a moment as she pressed against her sinuses and absorbed the interaction. It didn't seem like she had a chance of winning Amy over if she was purely jealous. Jealous in the ridiculous way only a teenager could be.

Peyton grabbed her plate and a fork and deftly left the kitchen before Mrs. Palmer returned with the towels. She would admit it was a bit cowardly, but she didn't want to have to explain what happened to Amy's mother.

Really, she was saving them all from embarrassment.

She took a bite of food even as she made her way back to her office and noted it wasn't quite as good as Randall's cooking. A sensation tugged at her chest as she thought of him. He'd always been kind to her, even when she bothered him in his kitchen. And he was patient when he tried to teach her how to bake different desserts. The memories made her fond and Peyton realized she missed him, in a weird way. He felt more familiar to her than he had any right to.

Peyton nudged open her office door and took another bite as she thought about Randall's bread pudding. Maybe she could get her parents to send her some.

[]

The murmur of voices drew Peyton's attention away from her research. She minimized the window where she was trying to track down the suspicious payments and closed her laptop. So far her search was hitting the same roadblocks over and over. It was difficult to dig deeper when she technically shouldn't be snooping around the accounting department's files in the first place.

But a potential visitor would be a welcome distraction from her frustrations as long as it wasn't Lionel.

Luck was with her as she followed the voices to Lex's office. Clark sat across from Lex on the couches and they laughed at something one of them said. Both of them looked at her as she entered the room and Peyton waved as she sat in the seat next to Clark. She stretched her legs and slumped back against the chair.

"What are you two up to? I feel like I'm missing out."

"Maybe you wouldn't be if you didn't hole yourself away in your office," Clark teased.

Lex smirked at Clark's jab and Peyton rolled her eyes.

"I'm still working to prove myself as responsible," she defended. "And anyway, I have some research that's… important."

Lex's expression shifted to be more serious.

"Did you find anything interesting?" He asked. Peyton shook her head.

"No. Not yet. I might try going at it from a different angle soon."

"Anything we can help you with?" Clark offered. "It can help to have fresh eyes looking at a problem."

Peyton smiled as she canted her head.

"Thank you, but I'm okay. It's company related concerns that are pretty boring. There may be something else you can help me out with, though. Do you know Amy Palmer?"

Clark tilted his head in confusion at the odd question.

"I know of her and her brother," he said. "They're new and I haven't spoken to them much. Why?"

Lex looked interested in why she brought up the girl as well and Peyton tried to decide on a delicate way to phrase her statement.

"I was just curious if it looked like she was fitting in well. Maybe making friends."

"Have you noticed a problem with her," Lex questioned. He sounded genuinely concerned and Peyton flashed a brief smile that changed into a grimace.

"I don't know if 'a problem' is the right way to put it. We had a couple of… awkward interactions and when I tried to talk to her she got…upset."

Lex frowned and looked towards the door to his office like he was thinking of getting up.

"What possible reason could she have to be upset with you?"

Peyton licked her lips in hesitation and both men leaned forward in anticipation. She grimaced yet again.

"In the most delicate way possible, because we got married."

Lex's brows rose in surprise and Clark's eyes widened in secondhand embarrassment. A beat of silence passed and Lex shook his head.

"So she has a little teenage crush," he said. "It's nothing. That doesn't give her the right to be rude to you."

Peyton held up a hand as if to ward off any action.

"I'm fine," she insisted. "I'm more concerned for her. She was almost distraught and I was just hoping you knew of any friends that could encourage her, Clark. Or, you know, take her mind off things."

"What?" Clark said, nervously smiling. "You want me to try and set her up with someone? I'm not sure if she'll lower her standards from corporate heir to high school nobody."

Peyton rolled her eyes and nudged Clark's leg with her foot.

"I'm not asking you to set her up."

"Maybe I will," Lex cut in. He leaned forward over his desk and looked at Peyton with exaggerated disappointment. "You find out another woman is gunning for your husband's affection, and not even a drop of jealousy?"

Clark laughed and Peyton clicked her tongue as her face grew warm; Lex's disappointment morphed into amusement as he watched her reaction. He really did have a bad habit of taking advantage of other people being around to tease her.

"If I have to be jealous of a fifteen year old, we have much bigger issues," she said blandly.

She dismissed Lex as she stood with a sigh and stretched her back. If he was going to make comments she couldn't fully sass back at, then she would pull an age-old wife tradition and ignore him.

"Well, I better get back to my research," she announced. Clark looked surprised at her leaving and Lex stood to come around the coffee table to approach her.

"Don't tell me we chased you off."

"As if you could," Peyton shot back with a challenging smile. "I wanted to visit the library before dinner and see if I can find anything to help direct where I'm looking."

"You'd tell me if she actually said something that upset you," Lex pressed. Peyton's smile softened.

"I promise, I'm fine. There's bigger things to dwell on than what a hormonal girl said." She paused, then amended. "But thank you for checking."

He held her around the waist to tug her closer and shock rippled through Peyton's limbs at the act. Lex quickly pressed a kiss to her temple and fireworks exploded from the spot and cascaded down the side of her face into her rib cage.

"I'll find you to help after Clark and I are done," he said.

The adrenaline from his chaste kiss was almost on par with what she felt during their practice before the wedding. She should have been angry. She should scowl at him and accuse him of taking advantage of having company. But she couldn't muster up the outrage, and that worried her more practical side.

She liked the kiss.

The gesture felt sweet and domestic and familiar. He felt all too familiar and safe. It was an issue she wasn't sure how to address, especially since her realizations were all so new.

Finally she unstuck her tongue from the roof of her mouth.

"Alright," she managed. "Don't rush because of me."

She didn't return the kiss. She couldn't. (She thought about it.) But it would be cruel after she just messaged Dr. Henson. Instead she locked their fingers and squeezed his hand before they parted and she left the room.

Her family was so far away, and yet home still somehow felt so close.

Peyton decided to focus on the research instead.

[]

There were a few different ways someone could go about shuffling funds without drawing eyes from anyone not paying attention. Peyton swapped accounting books and software program manuals as she tried to figure out how to try to pull that string. The money went somewhere and someone had to be receiving it. And, given it was being digitally transferred there had to be a trail of some kind.

She took a few notes on codes to attempt to dig through. But she wasn't a programmer by any means, and she needed to make sure if she tried to investigate it wouldn't tip anyone off.

The door to the library creaked open and Peyton looked up with a bemused grin.

"Did Clark go home already? I told you, you didn't have to rush."

Silence was her only response, and Peyton's smile fell away.

"Lex?"

Peyton stood and rounded the study table to get a better look at the door. It was closed. She took a few steps closer but there was no one else near the fireplace or in the sitting chairs. Her palms grew clammy even as she mentally berated herself. She must have imagined she heard the door. Security was still doing regular rounds around the manor, and nothing strange had happened since the incident in Lex's office.

Ghosts weren't real.

She was fine. She was safe.

Peyton ran her hand through her hair and shook her head as she sat back down at her table.

She needed to focus. She needed to make lists.

In regards to getting back home, she could check off emailing Dr. Henson as a small step forward. Until she received a response from him, or in the off chance he ignored her for longer than a week, she'd wait to move on to someone else.

There was also the mark on her head. It may not be related to her situation at all, but she couldn't completely dismiss it yet. But that wasn't as high on her list at the moment. Not unless it proved itself more connected.

Then there was this possible embezzlement case and the manor being not-quite haunted. And being married. Lex was an issue. It chaffed her to admit it even to herself, but those traitorous feelings weren't going back in their assigned box.

Peyton used a new page in her notebook to jot down her bullet lists, leaving the Lex Issue off of it, and sighed as the number of sub-bullets grew. It really was-

A loud thump nearby sent Peyton leaping from her chair with a startled gasp. It was close, a couple bookshelves over, and it sounded like someone had knocked a book to the floor.

"Hello?" She called out as she edged away from where the noise came from. "Is someone else in here?"

Silence reigned again. The floor creaked, or settled, and her pulse fluttered in her wrists as her hair stood up on the back of her neck. Maybe it was just anxiety. Maybe everything was starting to take its toll on her. But they hadn't seen the attacker in Lex's office either. Everything in her screamed at her to run.

A hint of roses wafted through the room; Peyton turned to the library door and screamed when something gripped her by her hair and yanked her back. The force sent her stumbling backwards and she instinctively reached back for whatever had her and sank her nails into what felt like flesh. A cry rang out and the grip on her hair lessened enough that she was able to scramble away and make it to the door.

Peyton twisted the doorknob and threw the door open as the force grabbed the back of her blouse and tackled her to the ground. She was able to throw her hands in front of her in time to stop her face from snapping against the floor. Her chest was so tight she could hardly breathe, let alone scream as she struggled under an invisible weight, kicking and clawing at something she couldn't see.

It felt like fingers wrapped around her throat and she lost her ability to breathe altogether. Peyton spasmed and dug her nails into the force again. It felt like hands, like arms. The weight on her legs was heavy enough that bucking her hips did little to knock it off and black creeped along the edges of her vision. Peyton gurgled as she tried to take a breath and followed the arms of her invisible attacker up. The force shifted slightly; Peyton could only reach so far. She hoped it was far enough.

Peyton stabbed her thumbs into the place she thought the attacker's eyes would be and was rewarded with a scream and the release of pressure around her neck. She sucked in a loud, ragged breath and kicked the air in front of her as she pulled herself away on her elbows until she could make it to her feet, shaky as they were.

Peyton finally had enough air to scream.

"LEX."

The threat was still there; she couldn't see it, but it was there. She stumbled and staggered down the hall in an attempt to flee. She hadn't looked around much on this floor, but there had to be another staircase down on the other end, one not being blocked by an invisible attacker.

"Someone help me! Please!"

A crash echoed behind her and Peyton choked back a sob as she reached for a door. She'd have to lock herself in somewhere and pray the attacker couldn't get through solid walls. Peyton rattled the handle desperately, looking back for any sign of movement; the door she tried was already locked. Another sob escaped her.

She rushed further down the hall but the invisible force knocked into her and she fell into a decorative pillar housing an antique vase. The vase crashed to the ground and splintered into a thousand ceramic pieces, Peyton followed in kind. Her head cracked against the polished wood floor hard enough that it dazed her. Dazed her enough that she couldn't fight back. The attacker hissed in a sudden pain, but fingers still clamped around her throat with bruising force.

Darkness grew around the edges of her vision, and with her last meager breath, Peyton dug her nails into the floor. She smelled linseed oil and blood.

[]

Annalise scoffed and Peyton didn't react to it. They were both lying on the floor, on Annalise's bedroom floor, and there was a pile of magazines and snacks in front of them. Peyton's arms were stretched before her, her nails painted a medley of wild colors. She had no feelings toward them one way or another. They simply were. Just like Anna's scoff.

But Peyton recognized the situation as a sleepover. Something she'd done for fun with her own friends. She decided she was probably having fun here too. Or ought to have been.

"You don't know?" Annalise pressed. "If I had gotten that kind of grade on the essay portion, I'd have died. So you forgot to spell out your opinion on union organization methods following the industrial revolution; who cares? You still wrote down the right dates. It's stupid. Mr. Jackson is stupid."

Peyton remembered they had a test. She remembered she was there in class when Mr. Jackson lectured them on all the specifics. But the things like unions and factories just were. She didn't think about them after Mr. Jackson was done talking. She didn't feel about them.

Peytondid. She knew she did. Safety laws were good. Better pay for hard labor was good. But she hadn't realized that then. She could only look back and know it now.

Pre-teen Peyton didn't know how to respond. She knew Mr. Jackson.

"Mr. Jackson gives tests," she said flatly. Annalise rolled her eyes.

"So many." She griped. "I guess you can try to make it up with the next one."

"The next one," Peyton repeated.

Annalise groaned and rolled over onto her back as she flipped through a magazine. Peyton remained where she was. Quiet and waiting. She should have said something. Anything.

"At least your parents didn't ground you for it," Annalise said. "It would suck if you had to miss out on Brittany's birthday party. I've heard her mom puts gift cards in the goody bags."

"I'm always on the ground," Peyton said. And only now did the comment make her cringe.

"Oh, hardy-har," Annalise drolled with little enthusiasm. "You're lucky I'm not my mom. You know what she'd say to that lame attempt at sarcasm? She'd say, 'Peyton, bite your tongue'. But honestly that wasn't even a clever enough quip to warrant it."

Peyton bit down on her tongue. Hard. Her teeth dug into the muscle and her body reflexively made a pathetic noise. It felt.

Pain, Peyton knew. Biting your own tongue was painful. She could recall the sharp sting and throbbing ache for what it was.

Blood dripped from her mouth and dribbled onto the shiny, polished wood floor. A whimper leaked out of her throat and Annalise spun back onto her stomach in alarm. Her eyes widened as she noted the blood.

"What the hell are you doing? Stop that!"

Peyton released her tongue and didn't feel one way or another about it. She should have.

"You said," she managed around the blood in her mouth.

"Are you insane?" Annalise cried. "That's not even funny, Peyton. Mom!"

She scrambled to her feet and ran from the room, calling for her mom and for help. Peyton pushed herself to sit up on crossed legs. She didn't know if she was supposed to follow or not. She waited.

The smell of linseed oil and blood rose up in the air around her.

[]

A horrible, gasping cough racked Peyton's body and ripped through her tender throat. She lurched forward and nearly dry heaved from coughing so hard. Arms encircled her, a warm body pressed against hers, but it didn't constrict the way her attacker's did.

"Easy! Breathe."

Lex's tone was laced with a tightly controlled fear but Peyton still went slack as she

registered it was him. His hold tightened as he held her up and closer against his chest.

"Hey, hey; come on. Peyton, you still with me?"

She finally opened her eyes and waited for her vision to clear from the blur of shapes it was. Lex came into focus, his eyes wide and fearful as he stared down at her. Peyton stared back at him a moment and blinked. His jaw clenched.

"Ow," she croaked pitifully.

Lex suddenly sagged back against his heels and she shifted with the movement. Peyton reached up to tentatively feel her neck; it felt hot to the touch and even just skimming her fingers across her skin brought flashes of pain. She rolled her tongue in her mouth. It was fine.

"An ambulance is on its way." Clark's voice came somewhere outside her vision. Lex nodded tersely in Clark's direction and turned his attention back to her. His expression softened and he held a hand delicately against her face.

"Don't speak if it's too painful," he said. "Did you see who did this to you?"

Peyton shook her head minutely and Lex's expression darkened in disappointment. She tried to swallow in order to speak but it felt like razors. Lex shook his head.

"Don't," he insisted. "Don't push yourself."

She wanted to sit up; she wanted to be able to see around the hall even if there was no attacker to see. With a bit of struggle, she managed to move as Lex accommodated her shifting and helped without jostling her.

Broken ceramic pieces littered the floor along with a few bloody footprints. Clark crouched a couple feet away, his expression openly concerned as he watched her. He tried to offer her an encouraging smile.

"I'm glad you're okay," he said simply.

"I owe you a life debt twice over, Clark," Lex said. Even with her sitting up, he held her close. It was like he couldn't make himself detangle from her, and Peyton sank into the warmth. The safety.

"I wish I would have gotten here sooner," Clark said with an air of shame.

"We're lucky you heard her scream at all. If you hadn't needed to leave early-"

Lex cut himself off, as if the thought was too traumatic to voice, and Peyton stroked the arm that he'd wrapped over her chest in comfort.

She could have died.

She could have been murdered.

It made her already inflamed throat swell in emotion. Peyton winced as she switched in her attempt to comfort Lex to grasping at him; her heart raced. Her eyes flashed with heat but she fought back the urge to cry. Not right now. She couldn't do that now. Peyton reached for her neck again and Lex stayed her hand.

"Wait until the medics get here," he murmured. "You're safe now."

Clark cast his eyes away nervously and he swiveled on the balls of his feet as he examined the broken vase pieces, his gaze lingered over the blood on the floor. He reached for a particular piece of pottery, and Peyton's attention diverted to Lex as he brushed back her hair.

Sirens sounded soon after, and Peyton complied silently as the medics put her on the gurney and got her into the ambulance because it hurt too much to protest. She watched the manor grow smaller as they headed to Smallville General and wondered if her attacker was still inside.

[]

The doctor confirmed that Peyton didn't have another concussion. She did have a few minor cuts from the broken pottery, but mostly it was bruising and trauma of her neck. Violent purple fingerprints were stamped onto her skin and the doctor told them the attack was stopped before more serious damage could be done. Speaking and swallowing were painful as it was, Peyton didn't want to know what more serious damage felt like.

It was exhausting enough surviving an attack, but Peyton pressed through being admitted, the treatments to ease pain, and a police report.

No, she hadn't seen her attacker.

No, they hadn't said anything to her.

Yes, she'd fought back.

They swabbed under her fingernails just in case, though the police tech said it didn't look like there were the amount of skin cells trapped there that should be for how badly she claimed she clawed whoever it was. It didn't look like it, but her fingernails still felt gunky. She knew the person would have marks if they were human. If they were real.

They certainly felt real.

Lex met her at the hospital and hovered by her side during the entire ordeal, and she was immensely grateful for his presence, though she could tell a large part of him was fuming. His face was grim as the doctor finished up instructions for her care and what symptoms to watch out for in the following twenty-four to forty-eight hours. He scowled as he listened to a voicemail on his phone; Peyton moved her legs off the hospital bed to sit on the edge and reached out her hand towards him after he snapped the phone closed angrily. Lex inhaled deeply and exhaled before he held her hand.

"Not your fault," Peyton told him. The painkillers made speaking easier, but her voice still sounded raw. "It's hard to stop someone-" she paused to swallow with a wince, "someone you can't see."

He worked his jaw at the reminder.

"Actually invisible?" He reconfirmed. Peyton hadn't said that to the police or the doctor, but she knew Lex would believe her after experiencing Tina Greer.

Peyton nodded and Lex mimicked the gesture as he looked away in thought.

"I'll call your mom," he said. "You can stay with your parents in Metropolis until we find whoever did this."

Peyton pulled on his hand as she balked.

"What? No! What if they go after you next?"

"You're the only one that's been targeted so far," he argued in return. "I can't let you go back to the manor when I can't guarantee your protection."

"I'm not leaving Smallville," she croaked. "I already- already ran to my parents' once."

"Peyton you almost died," he snapped. For the first time that she could remember, he sounded frustrated at her.

"I can stay at a hotel."

She didn't want to go back home with an attempted killer on the loose. Nearly being strangled to death was one of the most horrific experiences she'd had in life so far, and that was saying something. But she wouldn't be able to sleep knowing Lex, possibly everyone who worked in the mansion, could be in danger. She didn't want to be sent away.

"Everyone in town will know you're there," he rebutted, "and we have no idea who did thi-"

He abruptly stopped talking at a knock and they turned to look as the door to the room eased further open. Martha Kent peered into the room with a chagrined expression.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Mrs. Kent," Lex said with a level of surprise.

Martha held a bouquet of wildflowers in one hand the other ghosted over her own throat in sympathy as she looked at Peyton.

"Clark told us what happened; I'm so glad you're alright."

"Thanks to your son again," Peyton managed to say.

Martha pressed her lips together and eased further into the room, she offered the bundle of flowers which Lex accepted in Peyton's stead.

"I couldn't help but overhear part of your conversation," Martha said. "If you're really set on not going to Metropolis, you're welcome to stay at the farm for a couple days."

It was a surprising offer given that they'd never more than stopped by for a brief visit. And, of course, because Jonathan hated Luthors.

"We couldn't put your family in that position," Lex said. Peyton silently agreed.

"I know how it is to be newly married," Martha said with a soft smile. "And it's probably the last place anyone would think you would be. Then if something did happen, God forbid, at least you'd be close."

Peyton looked at Lex to gauge his reaction and could tell he was torn with the way his gaze was distant, as if trying to anticipate every possible outcome. She turned back to Martha.

"I wouldn't want to upset your husband."

"Jonathan will be fine. He can stand to be out of his comfort zone a bit more often."

"Then I gratefully accept," Peyton said with a rasp.

Lex dragged his hand over his jaw in a display of surrender.

"We can compensate you for-"

Martha shot him a stern look before he could finish his sentence.

"I'll hear none of that. It's not about a transaction or being even. It's just the decent thing to do."

"Thank you, Mrs. Kent," he said.

Martha adjusted her purse on her shoulder then gave them one last smile.

"I'll leave you two, then, and get the guest room ready. I really am glad you're safe, Peyton. I hope they're able to catch whoever is responsible soon."

Martha left with a goodbye and Lex passed Peyton the bouquet with an introspective expression on his face. She ran her finger over the small, delicate petals in so many colors and shapes. They were all so unique and yet together they still managed to look right. She noted how different they looked from the rows of robust roses at home. From the nearly glowing green flower still on her desk. Wildflowers fit the Kents.

"If I were a gambling man, I'd put money on you winning over Jonathan by the time you're able to come home," Lex said.

He looked over at her and his eyes went to her bruises again like it was hard for him to look elsewhere. And every time, she watched the muscles in his face and shoulders freeze. Peyton used smelling the flowers as a way to hide the sight for at least a moment.

" 'll try to put in a good word for you," she told him.

Lex sighed and rubbed the back of his neck before glancing back toward the door.

"You should rest here while I have a bag packed for you. I'll tell the staff you're going to your parents', just in case there are any loose lips or eavesdroppers."

There was a part of Peyton that wanted to be obstinate and insist she could do it herself, as long as she wasn't alone. But it was a part that felt obligated more than sincere. She should be able to do it, but the idea of going back so soon, with her attacker still at large, did send her gut churning.

She nodded and swallowed again as her throat scratched.

"My laptop too."

"Of course. Text me anything else you think you'll need. I'll be back soon."

He moved to leave, looking mission focused, and Peyton impulsively called him back. When he took the couple steps toward her she reached up and pressed a kiss to his temple. Quick, chaste. Before she could talk herself out of it.

"Thank you," she said, "for not fighting my decision to stay."

Lex stared at her; his visage lightened momentarily and it nearly felt like, once again, he was holding himself back from something. He grabbed her free hand and pressed a kiss of his own to her knuckles. Right next to her wedding ring.

"I promise you, I'll find who did this to you and they'll see justice."

"As long as it's justice."

Lex pulled back slightly with a stiff expression.

"I may be my father's son, but I'm not my father."

Peyton placed her hand on his chest in an attempt to soothe what she hadn't meant to sting.

"No, you're not. But anyone would be upset if they almost lost someone-" she stopped and swallowed with a wince. Swallowed back the words she almost used so casually. Words that weren't true. Probably. Not right now.

"Someone they care about," she said. She ran her tongue over the back of her teeth and lowered her hand. "I would be."

He watched her and his eyes said too much. For being a Luthor, he showed far too much of his hand.

Dum spiro spero.