Smallville and all of its related elements are copyright © 2001 - 2007 Tollin-Robbins Productions, WB Television and DC Comics. Superman created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster.
She had wondered, vaguely, if this was why Clark had refused to touch her. The attraction that she’d had for Lex had faded into a dull sort of disgust, and had spent the last weeks desperately concocting excuse after excuse for not touching him. Last night, Lex had uttered the very same words that she had said to Clark, long ago.“Lana, we haven’t been together since…”
he had said. “Since the baby,”
she had whispered. “You don’t think that’s a bit strange?”
She shook her head, brought herself back to the present. She was staring at the panel in Lex’s office, behind which the surveillance files for the Luthor mansion were held. Her entire body was visibly quivering, and she pulled the blanket tighter around her. She reached out with a shaking hand and opened the panel, and hoped desperately that Lex had lied to her; that he’d continued to watch her sleep, change and inspect chisels in her bedroom without her consent.
When Lex had reached out to her last night, when he had rested his lips softly on hers, she had felt her stomach churn. It wasn’t quite repugnance that she felt, but it was something close. She remembered how much she had loved Clark, and how she had convinced herself that it was his secret that kept them apart. She had told herself that she could feel how much he wanted her, in every touch, in every glance, but maybe… maybe he was just repulsed by her.
She could feel Lex’s hand on her face, and how its pale companion had run down her neck and caressed her breast through her nightgown. “Lex,”
she had whispered, “not tonight, please.”
His lips, so eager, so willing, had kissed across her collarbone and Lana had wanted, more than anything, just to go to sleep. And then, as a flicker of arousal passed through her, an image, completely unsolicited, had traversed her mind.
She had pushed him away then, not willing to let her fiancé touch her when she was thinking of another man. Now, staring at the blank screens that had appeared from behind the panel, she felt another cramp bloom from between her legs. The pain was exponentially larger than the cramps she had experienced the night before, when Lex had been sleeping next to her, and she rushed to the nearby bathroom, her blanket falling and tripping her up.
When she had vomited the contents of her stomach into the backroom, she continued to dry heave for several minutes. She wanted, more than anything, to start sobbing, to let herself curl up into her mother’s warm, safe arms.
Wandering back to her bedroom, she pulled her cell phone from the tangle of clothes on the floor. Trembling, she dialed Chloe’s number.
“Hey!” Chloe answered, enthusiastically. Lana jumped at the sound, as if she hadn’t expected an answer.
“Chloe,” she said, her voice low, rasping. “How quickly can you get over here?”
“Lana?” Chloe’s voice sounded worried. “What’s wrong?”
“I need your help getting through some of Lex’s security. Can you do it?”
“Lana, are you okay?” Chloe switched the phone from one ear to another, and turned to the other person in the room, shrugging dramatically. Clark could hear Lana’s voice on the other side of the conversation, and her reply, so empty sounding, so hopeless, terrified him.
“I can be there in five minutes,” Chloe said. She looked imploringly at Clark, who nodded.
Lana hung up the phone and slumped to the floor. She stared at her hands, tracing, with her eyes, every line in her palm. She let time disappear, and tried, as hard as she could, to force the images from last night from her mind.
She could still feel his hands, how they had stopped gently patrolling her skin and had become violent, invasive. For now, the only part of him that haunted her was his hands. Letting herself remember anything past the hands was too painful.
Her eyes fell shut and her fists clenched; she let out a desperate sob and brought her fists to her face, covering her eyes with her curled fingers and resting her nose between her wrists. She pushed herself to her feet and stumbled across the room. She made it to her dresser, where, through the oval mirror, her own dark eyes stared back at her, a somber reminder of what she’d become.
Mechanically, she pushed her makeup and perfume from the table. Her smell filled the room like a mist, and penetrated her already pounding head. She put one knee on the table and used its leverage to pull the mirror from its hinges. With a barely contained shriek of rage, she threw the mirror onto the ground.
When Chloe pushed open the door of her room minutes later, that was how she found her, panting, standing barefoot in the middle of the shattered mirror, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if her skinny arms could protect her. Lana could barely take her eyes off the broken glass and how every part of herself stared back up at her through those shards.
“Get him out of here,” she said, her voice much deeper than normal. Chloe looked over at Clark, who was standing just out of sight behind the door. It had been Clark who had run her all the way from Metropolis, and she had assured him that his presence wouldn’t be adverse.
Clark came out from around the door, and his eyes opened wide when he took in the scene; Lana’s bloody feet, her swollen eyes, how she clung to herself. “Lana,” he said, moving forward, wanting, no doubt, to take her in his arms.
“Get him out!” she yelled, suddenly. He jumped back, as if she had struck him. He watched her, for a moment longer, distressed by how her shoulders heaved; frightened by the hollow look in her eyes.
He left the room.
“Give me a call when you need to leave,” he muttered to Chloe.
Imagining any man’s arms around her right now was terrifying to her; even if they were Clark’s arms. Fighting back tears, she let herself remember how warm he had always been.
“Lana,” Chloe said softly, approaching her carefully through the glass. “What happened?”
Lana’s eyes snapped up from where they had been fixed, and she seemed to have gained some sort of control over herself. “I need your help,” she said stoically. Without pause, she walked through the glass and out of the bedroom, leaving a trail of bloody foot prints. When she reached the door, where Chloe was standing, she stumbled, and when Chloe reached out to catch her she flinched away, letting herself fall onto the floor.
“Don’t touch me,” she whispered. “I’m sorry… just… please don’t.”
Chloe’s eyes widened, but she nodded. “Okay,” she said. “Its okay, Lana, just let me know what you need me to do.”
On the way back to Lex’s office, Lana lent down and picked up the blanket that she had dropped, and wrapped it tightly around her shoulders.
“I need,” Lana whispered, “I need, I think, to go to the police.”
Chloe’s breath caught in her throat. “What did he do to you, Lana?” she asked firmly.
Lana turned toward her and, for the first time since Chloe had arrived, their eyes met. Lana’s eyes were large, frightened. Her brow furrowed slightly and she looked back down at her hands. “He hurt me,” she said, sounding shocked. “God…” she muttered. When she looked back up at Chloe, she looked disgusted.
“I just need the tapes,” she said. “Can you get past Lex’s security? He caught me snooping before and encrypted it or something. I just need the tapes for my room, for last night. Then… then I can go to the police or to the hospital…”
Chloe wanted to be able to bring Lana close, to hold the frightened child that looked up at her, but Lana had been adamant about not being touched. She wondered how Lex had hurt her; asides from the bloodied up feet and the haunted look in her eyes, she looked unscathed.
Of course, she thought, there were some places that weren’t visible on the mostly clothed girl.
“Lana,” she said softly. “Let me call Clark. He can take you to the hospital, and I can get the tapes and bring them by. If you’re hurt… I mean, you should at least get your feet looked at.”
A small hand moved forward and grabbed tightly onto Chloe’s arm. “No matter what,” Lana said firmly, “Clark doesn’t hear about any of this. Promise me that you won’t tell him.”
So Chloe sat herself down in front of the panel, and within minutes had cracked through the security. The screens flickered to life, revealing several different rooms in the Luthor mansion. Chloe brought up an index, and opened the files with “Bedroom” labels. A few different rooms opened up, but they were all live feed, meaning that they were all currently empty.
Lana’s room, though, was easily picked out from the lineup—the tousled sheets on the bed and the broken glass on the floor were obvious enough indicators.
She turned around to check on Lana, who was sitting on the floor, curled up against the side of Lex’s desk. “Do you have it?” she asked.
“Yes,” Chloe replied. Lana pushed herself to her feet.
“You can save it to a disk or something?” she asked.
“Yes,” Chloe repeated.
“Just go back,” Lana muttered. “Find where it begins.”It?
Chloe wondered. She realized, suddenly, how nervous she was. She was starting to suspect that what had happened was worse than simple domestic violence, and wasn’t sure that she wanted to see her friend in a position like that.
But she knew that nothing short of hard evidence would be able to convict a Luthor of anything, so, for her friend, she scrolled backward.
When she realized what she was seeing, she instinctively covered her eyes, the same way that she had when she was a child and was watching a scary movie. The sounds though, they could still be heard, and they were worse… so much worse. “Lex, please,”
they heard Lana whimper. “Please get off of me…”
Chloe scrolled further back, and Lana’s words were angry at this point, she was yelling, and Lex was responding to her in a horribly apathetic way. “You’re my wife,”
he muttered, only just loud enough for the camera to pick up. “Why won’t you touch me?”
From behind her, Lana let out a sob. “Please, Lex, no…” she whispered, as if she had forgotten where, and when, she was. Chloe scrolled much further forward this time, to when the room was empty and safe, and saved the entirety of the rest of the tape onto a USB key.
When she turned around, it was to see Lana struggling to her feet. She was shaking violently and was pale, too pale, like she hadn’t eaten for days. Chloe picked the blanket up off the ground and wrapped it around her. With a sob of resignation, Lana let Chloe hold her close, and together, they stumbled out of the room.