Lex Luthor

He'd done it.

Only a few hours before, Lex had walked out on the best thing he'd ever found in his life. But he didn't have a choice. If the previous week had shown him anything, it was how unstable he was and how close his darkness was to the surface. He couldn't deny it anymore. And seeing his future...It was for the best. Anatoly would never understand, but Lex would rather die then hurt him again. And he would, it was gurantee. He was a Luthor afterall.

He had spent a good portion of those hours since dawn sitting in the kitchen staring into a cup of coffee. No one had bothered him, but he was projecting his Luthor shell to the max. The cold, ruthless shell that threatened the lose of a finger for whoever dared come near. But soon, just the proximity of people got on his nerves and he escaped the compound to roam the beach.

It was another hour or two, Lex couldn't tell, before he found himself outside Helen's hut, his bag over his shoulder and computer case in hand. He frowned slightly...but he didn't stop himself when he gave into the urge to knock.