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Lana's a quiet crier. If she didn't have such good hearing, Chloe's not sure she ever would have realized that Lana was crying just next door. The first night she heard it, she'd stayed in bed for a couple of minutes, not quite sure what the sound was. Lana had only been at her house a couple of nights, so she wasn't yet used to hearing someone other than her father moving around. Briefly, she wondered if maybe Lana snored, and she almost giggled at the thought that Smallville's own fairy tale princess Lana Lang could possibly be less than enchanting in repose. She hadn't giggled, though, because at that moment she'd recognized what she was hearing. A muffled gasp with a serrated edge, followed by an involuntary sniffle, and it hit her. Lana was crying. She remembers how absolutely shocked she was, because even though Lana had just left the woman who'd raised her, it hadn't quite occurred to Chloe that Lana would be so upset. Chloe's no oblivious Clark Kent when it comes to facades, but she quickly realized that with Lana, she hadn't really wanted to look beyond the shiny surface. It's never fun to find out that the antagonist in your own teenaged romantic melodrama is actually a person with feelings, and Chloe had already conceded that point. But facing up to the fact that Lana was someone with whom she could actually sympathize was difficult. Sure, Lana hadn't led an ideal life -- Chloe knows what it's like to lose one parent, and that's painful enough -- but she had this way of making it look charmed. Flawless appearance, practiced smiles, and Chloe had overlooked any imperfections willingly. The possibility that Lana might want that side of her life to be ignored didn't make Chloe feel any better. It also didn't stop her from sliding out of bed and going to Lana's door, knocking lightly before pushing the door open and peeking in. The lamp in the corner had been on, and the stained glass shade had made Lana's tear streaks glisten purple and yellow. Lana had looked surprised, jerking slightly and dropping something on the floor. Chloe had crossed the room quickly to pick it up, placing a restraining hand on Lana's arm when she reached down to retrieve it. It was a picture of Nell with her new boyfriend. "Are you okay?" Chloe had asked, kneeling at Lana's feet like a convert to the church of Lana worship, handing the photo back like an offering, touching it gingerly around the corners. Chloe thinks it was predictive. She's never been able to muster up a healthy dose of resentment for Lana since that night. Now it's all focused on Clark, which isn't really fair, but there it is. "Oh," Lana had nodded, dashing the tears away with the back of a hand. "Yeah, I'll be fine. I'm just, you know, adjusting." "I'm sorry about your aunt," Chloe had said, not quite sure if she had anything helpful to offer. "It's not your fault," Lana had replied, ducking her head. And that's when Chloe had seen the flash of guilt. "Hey, it's not yours, either. Nell still knows you love her, even if you didn't want to leave home with her." "Does she?" Lana drew in a long, unsteady breath, and Chloe knew this had been building up for a while when Lana's words tumbled out in a rush. "Because I just feel so ungrateful. I mean, she's taken care of me ever since the meteor shower, and it seems like I owe her something. I know I'm being a brat by refusing to leave, but Smallville is my home. And the worst part is, I want to blame it on her for making me choose this. It's either her or all the people and places and things I love here, and it feels like I'm failing a huge test by selfishly doing what I want." "Don't you know that your teenage years are all about being selfish?" she'd joked, and it was a testament to Lana's earnestness that she seemed taken aback by the tease. "God, I'm sorry. I'm not great at this comforting stuff, but you could probably already tell that." "No, Chloe. I just...thank you for listening. It's not something advice can really solve, just something I needed to get off my chest. I'll have to work the rest out on my own." It was a dismissal, something Chloe could always recognize, but usually ignored. "Well, I'm glad you don't need advice, because I don't know what to say to help you. Just ask Pete about that time in eighth grade he got grounded for three weeks after taking my advice. I'm much better at listening, though, so if you ever need someone for that, I'm here for you," she'd offered. And she'd meant it. "No, I'll be fine," Lana had repeated. "Don't trouble yourself when I get overemotional and teary." Code-speak for, 'I don't need your pity; I need your friendship.' And Chloe had wanted to protest, tell Lana that she didn't pity her, but wanted to help her. It wouldn't make up for the nights when she'd cried, thinking about a mother who didn't want her, but it would be something. Only, Chloe had a lifetime of experience glossing over her own vulnerabilities while she weaseled out other people's problems. If Lana didn't want it to be, it was none of her business to butt in. Chloe had made enough mistakes that she was willing to respect that right, especially when Lana's eyes practically pled Chloe to forget that night. Chloe hasn't forgotten, but she's learned what Lana wants. She's learned to listen during the night and never mention it during the day. If Lana's eyes are puffy in the mornings, Chloe asks, "Tired?" in a conversational tone while she pours another glass of milk. They go about their lives like those nights don't happen, but they both know what's unspoken, and that feels nearly intimate enough that Chloe almost doesn't mind the feint. Lana still cries at night sometimes, but Chloe stays in her room, pretending not to hear. If Lana noticed that Chloe moved her bed from one side of the room to the other, she doesn't mention it. She may or may not know that Chloe still listens to her cry, trailing her fingers over the wall that separates their beds and wishing that she could touch Lana, instead. Nothing but a wall between them, and it's almost close enough. Now Chloe kind of wishes she'd kept it to herself, because by telling Clark she's not only exposed something Lana wanted kept private, but she's also let Clark into the small space of knowledge that was hers and Lana's alone. There was a certain satisfaction in showing Clark she had something he wanted, though. A hollow sort of victory, like cheating at solitaire even when it doesn't matter if you win because you're the only one playing, but Chloe's learned to take what she can get now that she knows she'll never get what she wants. Besides, there are other things she's learned from living with Lana, things she still has over Clark. She knows that Lana still watches re-runs of Saved by the Bell when she can catch them. She knows that Lana puts off doing her laundry until she doesn't have any clean clothes left. She knows that Lana sets her alarm for odd times like 6:17 or 7:08 instead of 6:15 or 7:10. She knows that Lana sings in the shower sometimes. Knows that Lana never cries on the nights she comes home from seeing Clark. So maybe it shouldn't make Chloe feel any better that she knows things about Lana that Clark doesn't. It does, anyway. END
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