Looks at me, being ons a rollz
Dec. 23rd, 2006 11:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
serafina20Two in one day. Because it's the same day here.
"Ohhh how I cried. Never gonna hold the hands of another guy," Mark sang off key as he drove along the road.
Whitney laughed. "The Dixie Chicks. Seriously."
"What? I like them."
"You don't even have the lyrics right. Some fan."
Mark rolled his eyes and flicked the turn signal. "I'm not a rabid fan."
"So, now only rabid fans know song lyrics? 'Cause I only like them in passing, and even I can tell she's not saying 'oh, how I cried,' but 'I cried.' The first word is all drawn out."
"Oh, forgive me. These old ears, you know."
"Yeah, yeah, you're an old man. Whatever."
Mark stopped at a crossing. Leaned over and kissed Whitney. "This song always made me think of you while you were gone."
"Oh Jesus."
He hit the gas. "No, it did. The idea of a soldier writing this girl he barely knew letters. And falling in love with her."
"The solider dies in the song, Mark."
"Yeah, I always really hoped that wouldn't happen to us. And it didn't."
"We need another song. Because this is a fucking depressing one."
"What's your favorite song?"
Whitney licked his lips. He always did that after they kissed, Mark noticed. As if he was savoring the taste or something.
He wondered if Whitney used to do that with Lana. And, God, he really needed to stop doing that. It was not completely paranoid, it was also really creepy. The girl was sixteen and it was just wrong to wonder about his boyfriend's relationship with her.
"You know, I'm not sure. I mean, romantic songs. Never really thought about it."
"Did you and Lana have a song?" What did he *just* say? Christ.
"I guess it was that 'Everything' song by Lifehouse. But just because we danced to it a few times at school dances. And I know she liked it." Whitney shrugged. "Honestly? I've never been romantic enough with anyone to have a song."
Mark pat him on the leg. "That's because you're gay. Why would you be romantic with a girl?" Which begged the question, "What was your and Clark's song?"
"'Time After Time,'" Whitney said without hesitation. "The Eva Cassidy version. Mom had a CD, and I was listening to it the night I first kissed him. But, uh, don't tell Clark, because then Lex'll find out, and he'll kill me."
"I promise," Mark said as he turned up the Kent's driveway. "My lips are..." He broke off as the sound of Lana's hysterical shouts penetrated the interior of the car. "Shit." He cut the engine and jumped out of the car.
Lana and Clark were on the ground by her car. Her face was covered in tears, dirt, and make-up. She shook the unconscious Clark, alternately shaking and tugging at him, trying to move him. "Clark, wake up, please!" she sobbed. "Please, I can't move you, I can't...."
"Lana." Mark dropped to the ground next to them. "What happened?" he asked, lowering his ear to Clark's face. He put two fingers, feeling for a pulse.
"I don't know, he just collapsed. Fell out of the car."
"How long?" He was breathing. Shallowly, but breathing.
Lana wiped her face over her hand, smearing dirt and mascara. "I don't know. A few minutes?"
"Did you call anyone? An ambulance?"
"Chloe told me not to."
He snapped his head up. "What?"
She was trembling. Arms wrapped tightly around herself, snot dripping from her nose. "She said that if Clark ever got sick around me, not to call a doctor. To call Lex first."
"Did you?"
"I forgot."
"Christ." He sat up and pushed hair back from his face, thinking. Clark was sick. He needed medical care. He also needed to be taken inside and out of the cold. He was running a fever, but shivering even in his sleep.
"Whitney," he finally said, coming to a decision. "Call Lex. Tell him Clark is sick and needs a doctor now. Lana, help me get him inside."
"I can't," Lana sobbed while Whitney, leaning heavily against his crutches, pulled out his cell phone. "He's too heavy."
"We have to. You get his legs. I'll get his shoulders." Mark crouched behind Clark's head and slid his hands underneath his arms. Cradling his head and shoulders against his body, Mark said, "On the count of three. Ready? One. Two. Three." He grunted as he rose, lifting Clark with him. "Oh, Christ, he's heavy."
Lana was holding on to Clark's legs, still sniffling. "Yeah. He's heavy."
"Lets go. Just start walking." He readjusted his grip on Clark, then started moving backwards. Then he realized what a stupid idea that was, considering he had to go up steps. "Lana. Come around even with me, all right? We can go sideways."
She nodded and moved so she was even with him. Together, they managed to haul Clark into the house and through the kitchen.
"Should we take him upstairs?" Lana panted.
He laughed breathlessly. Shook his head and answered, "No. Living room is fine. On the couch."
"Lex is on his way," Whitney said as Mark and Lana got Clark settled. "His doctor was at the mansion, and she's coming with him."
"That's lucky." Mark pulled a quilt from the back of the couch and draped it over Clark. "Lana, can you get some water for him? Whitney, I need a rag or something. We need to cool him off. He's burning up."
"Lana," Whitney said, moving towards the kitchen.
Lana blinked, then wiped away the last of her tears. Tightening he jaw, she followed Whitney back into the kitchen.
"Okay, Clark," Mark breathed. He pulled the blanket back so he could get to Clark's shirt underneath. "Don't have issues over this, okay? I'm not doing anything, I'm just trying to get a layer off. That's all. Jesus Christ, you're hot." He grasped the hem of Clark's tee and tugged it up. It took a few moments of struggle, but he finally got it over Clark's arms and head.
Clark shivered violently.
"I know you feel cold," he said, tucking the blanket back around Clark. "But that's just because you're too hot. We're going to cool you down. Okay?" He stroked Clark's face, pushing hair from his forehead.
"Here." Lana pressed a cold rag into Mark's hand. "He's so hot."
Mark nodded and wiped Clark's face off before settling the cloth over his neck. "We should probably get ice. I'm not sure. Where the hell is Lex?"
"He'll be here." Whitney handed Mark a glass of water. "Don't worry."
"I don't like not calling an ambulance. This is stupid. He's sick. Really sick. We're endangering his life."
"Trust me," Lana said. "It'd take the paramedics longer to get here. It takes them forever to get out here. Lex is closer."
"Especially with the way he drives," Whitney added.
Mark frowned. Carefully, he tilted Clark's head up and placed the water at his lips. A few drops of water slipped out of his mouth, but Clark swallowed the rest. "It's irresponsible."
"The Kents have always been doctor shy," Lana said. She sat at Clark's feet and rubbed them through the blanket. "He once told me that he's never been to a doctor before."
"Why not?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. He was ten when he told me. He didn't seem to know."
Mark nodded and stroked his fingers through Clark's hair. Clark was so incredibly hot. Dangerously so. "I don't want to wait," he said, coming to an abrupt decision. "I'm calling..."
"Don't, we're here," Lex said at the door. He was pale and breathing heavily, but face set in determination. "Dr. Sutton will see what's wrong."
Dr. Sutton pushed passed Lex and all but ran to Clark's side. She set her bag on the coffee table and pulled it close to him. "What happened?" she asked as she pulled a thermometer and stethoscope from the bag.
"He just collapsed," Lana said. "He seemed tired, but I thought it was because of everything that's happened. But then he just fell out of the car and hit the ground." Tears stood in her eyes again.
Dr. Sutton pushed the thermometer into Clark's ear and pressed a button. A moment later it beeped. "Oh my God," she breathed on reading it.
"Guys, I need you to go," Lex said suddenly. He moved next to Dr. Sutton.
"No," Whitney replied.
"Whitney..."
"No."
"Lex, we need to get him to the hospital right away," Dr. Sutton said. "Actually, no. Lana, go upstairs and run a cool bath for him. Cool, not cold. Mark, Whitney, do you know how to separate eggs?"
"What?" Mark blinked at her.
She looked up. "Egg whites are an effective way to lower body temperature. If you can separate eggs, that'd really be a help. Otherwise, get some ice, wrap it in some towels and bring it in. We can stick it on his neck and at his feet."
"Um, I can separate eggs. Just... give me a few minutes. How high is his temperature?"
"One hundred seven."
Mark felt his jaw drop. "It's..." That was impossible. Clark should be dead. "But he's..."
"It's okay, Mark," Lex said. "Just do the eggs."
"No, it's not okay, Lex. Clark is dying."
"No, he's not."
"One hundred and seven! I am calling the hospital and getting them down here. He can't..."
"Don't!" Lex shouted, panic clear in his voice. He looked down at Clark's flushed face, eyes bright. His brow furrowed and he took one of Clark's hands in his own. "Shit," he swore. "Fuck. Clark, I.... Your father is going to kill me." Then he looked back up at Mark. "Clark's normal body temperature is about one hundred and three. His current temperature is dangerous, yes, but it's not as life threatening as you think."
The numbers flashed through Mark's head. He stared at Lex, trying to make sense of the words he'd just heard. "It's... What? How is that possible?"
"It just is, I can't explain right now and... What are you doing?" Lex exclaimed.
Dr. Sutton had a rubber tube around Clark's upper arm. She was tapping a vein in his elbow, needle in hand. "I need a blood sample."
"You can't...." But Lex's words died when Dr. Sutton slid the needle into Clark's skin.
"Lex," Mark said, but Whitney broke him off, saying, "Babe. The eggs. Please."
"Right." He rubbed his head and nodded. "I'll just... get right on that." He went into the kitchen, to the refrigerator. As he did, he heard Whitney talking.
"She should be able to do that, huh?" he said. "I mean, I've never seen Clark cut or bleeding or anything. I figured the meteors...."
"It's not the meteors," Lex said. "Not exactly." Lex gasped and whispered, "I've never been afraid of losing him. Not like this. He doesn't get sick. He doesn't..."
"Calm down, Lex, or I'll give you a sedative," Dr. Sutton said.
He took the eggs out, and a couple bowls before returning to the living room.
Lex looked like he was about to cry. His eyes were on the vial of blood in Dr. Sutton's hand, eyes bright, chin trembling.
"It's just blood, Lex," he said. He set everything on the table behind Dr. Sutton, Lex, and Whitney and cracked the first egg.
"No, it's not just blood!" he shouted, hysterical. "It's *Clark's* blood. *Clark's*! You can't just stick a fucking needle in Clark's arm, not unless he's really sick. You can't just draw blood and.... Shit!" He rose to his feet and stormed across the room. Before anyone could stop him, Lex punched the wall.
There was a loud *crack*.
"Lex!" Dr. Sutton shouted.
Lex was leaning against the wall. "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck," he swore, cradling his hand.
"Lex! You get your ass up here right now!" Lana shouted down the stairs.
"Lana..."
"Get up here!"
He winced, hunched his shoulders, and made for the stairs. "Dr. Sutton, you can't let anyone else look at that blood," he said when he reached the foot. "Not Helen, not an assistant in the lab, not another doctor. *No one*."
"Lex..."
"If you care about Clark," he said, sob in his voice. "If you want to keep him safe, you won't let anyone else see it. Because if you do, Clark's going to be taken away, and they'll figure out how to cut him open, and they'll experiment on him and we'll never see him again. You have to promise."
Dr. Sutton, like all of them, looked at Lex wide-eyed. "I promise," she said.
"I..."
"Lex!"
His mouth snapped shut and he disappeared up the stairs.
Dr. Sutton stared after him for a long moment. Then she looked at the vial of blood in her hands. "Mark, the eggs," she said.
"Right." He shook himself and went back to his task.
"Oh, Clark," Dr. Sutton whispered. She brushed hair back from his face, then cupped his cheek in her palm. "What are you, honey? What's in this blood that has Lex so scared?"
Mark couldn't help but wonder that, too.
"Ohhh how I cried. Never gonna hold the hands of another guy," Mark sang off key as he drove along the road.
Whitney laughed. "The Dixie Chicks. Seriously."
"What? I like them."
"You don't even have the lyrics right. Some fan."
Mark rolled his eyes and flicked the turn signal. "I'm not a rabid fan."
"So, now only rabid fans know song lyrics? 'Cause I only like them in passing, and even I can tell she's not saying 'oh, how I cried,' but 'I cried.' The first word is all drawn out."
"Oh, forgive me. These old ears, you know."
"Yeah, yeah, you're an old man. Whatever."
Mark stopped at a crossing. Leaned over and kissed Whitney. "This song always made me think of you while you were gone."
"Oh Jesus."
He hit the gas. "No, it did. The idea of a soldier writing this girl he barely knew letters. And falling in love with her."
"The solider dies in the song, Mark."
"Yeah, I always really hoped that wouldn't happen to us. And it didn't."
"We need another song. Because this is a fucking depressing one."
"What's your favorite song?"
Whitney licked his lips. He always did that after they kissed, Mark noticed. As if he was savoring the taste or something.
He wondered if Whitney used to do that with Lana. And, God, he really needed to stop doing that. It was not completely paranoid, it was also really creepy. The girl was sixteen and it was just wrong to wonder about his boyfriend's relationship with her.
"You know, I'm not sure. I mean, romantic songs. Never really thought about it."
"Did you and Lana have a song?" What did he *just* say? Christ.
"I guess it was that 'Everything' song by Lifehouse. But just because we danced to it a few times at school dances. And I know she liked it." Whitney shrugged. "Honestly? I've never been romantic enough with anyone to have a song."
Mark pat him on the leg. "That's because you're gay. Why would you be romantic with a girl?" Which begged the question, "What was your and Clark's song?"
"'Time After Time,'" Whitney said without hesitation. "The Eva Cassidy version. Mom had a CD, and I was listening to it the night I first kissed him. But, uh, don't tell Clark, because then Lex'll find out, and he'll kill me."
"I promise," Mark said as he turned up the Kent's driveway. "My lips are..." He broke off as the sound of Lana's hysterical shouts penetrated the interior of the car. "Shit." He cut the engine and jumped out of the car.
Lana and Clark were on the ground by her car. Her face was covered in tears, dirt, and make-up. She shook the unconscious Clark, alternately shaking and tugging at him, trying to move him. "Clark, wake up, please!" she sobbed. "Please, I can't move you, I can't...."
"Lana." Mark dropped to the ground next to them. "What happened?" he asked, lowering his ear to Clark's face. He put two fingers, feeling for a pulse.
"I don't know, he just collapsed. Fell out of the car."
"How long?" He was breathing. Shallowly, but breathing.
Lana wiped her face over her hand, smearing dirt and mascara. "I don't know. A few minutes?"
"Did you call anyone? An ambulance?"
"Chloe told me not to."
He snapped his head up. "What?"
She was trembling. Arms wrapped tightly around herself, snot dripping from her nose. "She said that if Clark ever got sick around me, not to call a doctor. To call Lex first."
"Did you?"
"I forgot."
"Christ." He sat up and pushed hair back from his face, thinking. Clark was sick. He needed medical care. He also needed to be taken inside and out of the cold. He was running a fever, but shivering even in his sleep.
"Whitney," he finally said, coming to a decision. "Call Lex. Tell him Clark is sick and needs a doctor now. Lana, help me get him inside."
"I can't," Lana sobbed while Whitney, leaning heavily against his crutches, pulled out his cell phone. "He's too heavy."
"We have to. You get his legs. I'll get his shoulders." Mark crouched behind Clark's head and slid his hands underneath his arms. Cradling his head and shoulders against his body, Mark said, "On the count of three. Ready? One. Two. Three." He grunted as he rose, lifting Clark with him. "Oh, Christ, he's heavy."
Lana was holding on to Clark's legs, still sniffling. "Yeah. He's heavy."
"Lets go. Just start walking." He readjusted his grip on Clark, then started moving backwards. Then he realized what a stupid idea that was, considering he had to go up steps. "Lana. Come around even with me, all right? We can go sideways."
She nodded and moved so she was even with him. Together, they managed to haul Clark into the house and through the kitchen.
"Should we take him upstairs?" Lana panted.
He laughed breathlessly. Shook his head and answered, "No. Living room is fine. On the couch."
"Lex is on his way," Whitney said as Mark and Lana got Clark settled. "His doctor was at the mansion, and she's coming with him."
"That's lucky." Mark pulled a quilt from the back of the couch and draped it over Clark. "Lana, can you get some water for him? Whitney, I need a rag or something. We need to cool him off. He's burning up."
"Lana," Whitney said, moving towards the kitchen.
Lana blinked, then wiped away the last of her tears. Tightening he jaw, she followed Whitney back into the kitchen.
"Okay, Clark," Mark breathed. He pulled the blanket back so he could get to Clark's shirt underneath. "Don't have issues over this, okay? I'm not doing anything, I'm just trying to get a layer off. That's all. Jesus Christ, you're hot." He grasped the hem of Clark's tee and tugged it up. It took a few moments of struggle, but he finally got it over Clark's arms and head.
Clark shivered violently.
"I know you feel cold," he said, tucking the blanket back around Clark. "But that's just because you're too hot. We're going to cool you down. Okay?" He stroked Clark's face, pushing hair from his forehead.
"Here." Lana pressed a cold rag into Mark's hand. "He's so hot."
Mark nodded and wiped Clark's face off before settling the cloth over his neck. "We should probably get ice. I'm not sure. Where the hell is Lex?"
"He'll be here." Whitney handed Mark a glass of water. "Don't worry."
"I don't like not calling an ambulance. This is stupid. He's sick. Really sick. We're endangering his life."
"Trust me," Lana said. "It'd take the paramedics longer to get here. It takes them forever to get out here. Lex is closer."
"Especially with the way he drives," Whitney added.
Mark frowned. Carefully, he tilted Clark's head up and placed the water at his lips. A few drops of water slipped out of his mouth, but Clark swallowed the rest. "It's irresponsible."
"The Kents have always been doctor shy," Lana said. She sat at Clark's feet and rubbed them through the blanket. "He once told me that he's never been to a doctor before."
"Why not?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. He was ten when he told me. He didn't seem to know."
Mark nodded and stroked his fingers through Clark's hair. Clark was so incredibly hot. Dangerously so. "I don't want to wait," he said, coming to an abrupt decision. "I'm calling..."
"Don't, we're here," Lex said at the door. He was pale and breathing heavily, but face set in determination. "Dr. Sutton will see what's wrong."
Dr. Sutton pushed passed Lex and all but ran to Clark's side. She set her bag on the coffee table and pulled it close to him. "What happened?" she asked as she pulled a thermometer and stethoscope from the bag.
"He just collapsed," Lana said. "He seemed tired, but I thought it was because of everything that's happened. But then he just fell out of the car and hit the ground." Tears stood in her eyes again.
Dr. Sutton pushed the thermometer into Clark's ear and pressed a button. A moment later it beeped. "Oh my God," she breathed on reading it.
"Guys, I need you to go," Lex said suddenly. He moved next to Dr. Sutton.
"No," Whitney replied.
"Whitney..."
"No."
"Lex, we need to get him to the hospital right away," Dr. Sutton said. "Actually, no. Lana, go upstairs and run a cool bath for him. Cool, not cold. Mark, Whitney, do you know how to separate eggs?"
"What?" Mark blinked at her.
She looked up. "Egg whites are an effective way to lower body temperature. If you can separate eggs, that'd really be a help. Otherwise, get some ice, wrap it in some towels and bring it in. We can stick it on his neck and at his feet."
"Um, I can separate eggs. Just... give me a few minutes. How high is his temperature?"
"One hundred seven."
Mark felt his jaw drop. "It's..." That was impossible. Clark should be dead. "But he's..."
"It's okay, Mark," Lex said. "Just do the eggs."
"No, it's not okay, Lex. Clark is dying."
"No, he's not."
"One hundred and seven! I am calling the hospital and getting them down here. He can't..."
"Don't!" Lex shouted, panic clear in his voice. He looked down at Clark's flushed face, eyes bright. His brow furrowed and he took one of Clark's hands in his own. "Shit," he swore. "Fuck. Clark, I.... Your father is going to kill me." Then he looked back up at Mark. "Clark's normal body temperature is about one hundred and three. His current temperature is dangerous, yes, but it's not as life threatening as you think."
The numbers flashed through Mark's head. He stared at Lex, trying to make sense of the words he'd just heard. "It's... What? How is that possible?"
"It just is, I can't explain right now and... What are you doing?" Lex exclaimed.
Dr. Sutton had a rubber tube around Clark's upper arm. She was tapping a vein in his elbow, needle in hand. "I need a blood sample."
"You can't...." But Lex's words died when Dr. Sutton slid the needle into Clark's skin.
"Lex," Mark said, but Whitney broke him off, saying, "Babe. The eggs. Please."
"Right." He rubbed his head and nodded. "I'll just... get right on that." He went into the kitchen, to the refrigerator. As he did, he heard Whitney talking.
"She should be able to do that, huh?" he said. "I mean, I've never seen Clark cut or bleeding or anything. I figured the meteors...."
"It's not the meteors," Lex said. "Not exactly." Lex gasped and whispered, "I've never been afraid of losing him. Not like this. He doesn't get sick. He doesn't..."
"Calm down, Lex, or I'll give you a sedative," Dr. Sutton said.
He took the eggs out, and a couple bowls before returning to the living room.
Lex looked like he was about to cry. His eyes were on the vial of blood in Dr. Sutton's hand, eyes bright, chin trembling.
"It's just blood, Lex," he said. He set everything on the table behind Dr. Sutton, Lex, and Whitney and cracked the first egg.
"No, it's not just blood!" he shouted, hysterical. "It's *Clark's* blood. *Clark's*! You can't just stick a fucking needle in Clark's arm, not unless he's really sick. You can't just draw blood and.... Shit!" He rose to his feet and stormed across the room. Before anyone could stop him, Lex punched the wall.
There was a loud *crack*.
"Lex!" Dr. Sutton shouted.
Lex was leaning against the wall. "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck," he swore, cradling his hand.
"Lex! You get your ass up here right now!" Lana shouted down the stairs.
"Lana..."
"Get up here!"
He winced, hunched his shoulders, and made for the stairs. "Dr. Sutton, you can't let anyone else look at that blood," he said when he reached the foot. "Not Helen, not an assistant in the lab, not another doctor. *No one*."
"Lex..."
"If you care about Clark," he said, sob in his voice. "If you want to keep him safe, you won't let anyone else see it. Because if you do, Clark's going to be taken away, and they'll figure out how to cut him open, and they'll experiment on him and we'll never see him again. You have to promise."
Dr. Sutton, like all of them, looked at Lex wide-eyed. "I promise," she said.
"I..."
"Lex!"
His mouth snapped shut and he disappeared up the stairs.
Dr. Sutton stared after him for a long moment. Then she looked at the vial of blood in her hands. "Mark, the eggs," she said.
"Right." He shook himself and went back to his task.
"Oh, Clark," Dr. Sutton whispered. She brushed hair back from his face, then cupped his cheek in her palm. "What are you, honey? What's in this blood that has Lex so scared?"
Mark couldn't help but wonder that, too.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2006-12-24 08:05 am (UTC)Poor Lex... someone really needs to help him keep it together. *hugs Lex*
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Date: 2006-12-24 05:30 pm (UTC)Thank you so much for the feedback. I know I've been really bad at responding lately, but I really do appreciate it. Thanks!
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Date: 2006-12-24 08:16 am (UTC)This was an incredible update. The ordinary day conversation with Mark and Whitney doing a 180 into bite your nails terror for Lex. Wow!
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Date: 2006-12-24 05:32 pm (UTC)Thank you so much for the feedback. Even though I haven't been responding like I should, I really do appreciate it. Thanks!
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Date: 2006-12-24 01:38 pm (UTC)Great parts!
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Date: 2006-12-24 05:32 pm (UTC)Thank you so much!!
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Date: 2006-12-24 03:07 pm (UTC)Oh, they're going to need an explanation. Oh. Yes. I think I feel like Lex right now. Can't breathe. Can't breathe.
Heeeee! Absolutely fabulous parts. I *love* when you're on a roll. *g* Also, Mark singing to the song and then Whitney saying that the soldier died in the song and they need a new one? PERFECT. I love it. Heee! :D
*squishes you tight*
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Date: 2006-12-24 05:34 pm (UTC)Yeah, I know. I'm interested to see what happens myself. How I write myself out of this one, I mean. Because... this isn't how I was intending to do this part, yet it seems the most natural. i'm almost thinking they're going to have to tell them, but at the same time, it might be too soon. I'll see where the story takes me. The story is usually right.
Also, Mark singing to the song and then Whitney saying that the soldier died in the song and they need a new one? PERFECT. I love it. Heee! :D
Every time I hear that song, I think of them, but the ending is all wrong. Luckily we did find another song for them. Unfortunately, I don't think it was officially released until the year after Season 2, so they're stuck for now. :)
Thank you!
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Date: 2008-10-10 11:42 am (UTC)have i told you yet or lately how amazing i find it that you make me actually LIKE characters that, in the show, can even make me actively nauseous with their frustrating ability to take the focus off of what's REALLY going on. in COTW, they ADD to the story. shocking idea. and one of the braver trails to take for a ficwriter, especially a CLex writer. brava!
yes, you're one of the braver writers in that, instead of deleting these characters ASAP, you instead somehow find motivations for the behaviour of people like Lana so that they actually make SENSE. I mean, people that i would rather ffwd (to avoid said frustrated nausea) than admit exist otherwise, and further, you make me actually...well...CARE.
and that, my dear, is nothing short of miraculous.