My take on how Lena felt after everything that happened in the season finale. To me, Lena wasn't pissed off with Lincoln, just.. uncomfortable, and that's why she didn't look angry with Lincoln, but moved away when he tried to hug her. This story's pretty much about that, and Lincoln trying to fix things. Enjoy!
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, but if I did, there'd definitely be a second season of 'The River'.
"Lena? Can I come in?" Lincoln asked, leaning against her door.
"Lena?", he called out again.
"Yeah, come in."
Lincoln pushed the door open to find Lena sitting on the floor, her back leaning against the bed, surrounded by books. Her face looked tired, and her eyes looked.. dead. "What are you up to?", he asked, sitting down against the wall opposite her with his legs spread out. "Just.. researching." she replied.
"Lena, what's going on? I mean, I don't even remember what happened that night too clearly. I remember calling you special and strong, and uh.. kissing you, and then you and my dad were with me, and.."
Lena closed her eyes, everything Lincoln had said that night coming back to her. "I've been watching you for a long time." "You're so special and so strong. You don't even know how much but I do." "I've wanted this for a long time." Those lines had left her so confused. She didn't know whether it was Lincoln talking to her, the demon talking to her based on feelings Lincoln had, or just the demon, trying to hurt her. And the kiss.. God, she could still feel it against her lips. Nothing had changed from all those years ago, when they'd shared their first kiss. Lincoln, even in demonic form, was still so gentle, so loving, with her.. Was he like that with Jillian? It hurt her to think about it.
"What do you want, Lincoln?", she asked, her eyes still closed.
"My best friend back."
Lena opened her eyes to look at him. "And while we're at it, I want to know why you're pissed off with me, why I'm probably your least favourite person in the world right now." "You're not my least favourite perso -" "Then what's going on, Lena?", he yelled. She flinched. Lincoln took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I miss you, Lena. Please, just tell me why you're mad at me."
"You don't remember what happened when Emmet and I were trying to help you?", Lena asked. Lincoln shook his head.
Lena took a deep breath in. "Emmet was trying to get the demon out of you. He was pouring some stuff on you, and.. it hurt you. You were screaming, and crying, and.." Lena broke off. Thinking about this hurt even more than thinking about the kiss. "You looked at me, asked me to help you. You just kept yelling, and I couldn't stand seeing you in that much pain. So, I walked up to you, and I put my hand over you, trying to stop Emmet. You grabbed my hand.. and shot me upwards, so I was stuck to the ceiling." Lena's voice was cracking. "Oh God, Lena, I'm so sorry." Lincoln scooted closer to her and placed his hand just above her knee. "No, wait, that's not it. When I was up there, you mocked me. You said I looked innocent, but that my thoughts weren't. You spoke about my thoughts when we were alone on the Magus. You sang "Row, row, row your boat" in 9-year-old Lincoln's voice. And.." She had tears streaming down her face, now. "You started ripping my shirt apart, popping buttons off it. I was dangling from the ceiling, my shirt falling off me, the first few buttons off. I was.. exposed. Gravity wasn't exactly helping me, either."
There was a moment of quiet. Lincoln took his hand off her leg. "No wonder you were pissed off", he said, quietly. He felt numb.
"I wasn't pissed off, Lincoln." "Who are you kidding, Lena?"
"Look, Lincoln. Since I was a kid, the only person in the entire world who I trusted was you. You were the only person I felt completely safe with. The ONLY person. I knew that no matter what, no matter how angry or.. or drunk, or whatever you were, you'd never hurt me. You'd never do anything that I didn't want you to do. But yesterday.. even though I know that that wasn't you.. I just.. that image of you ripping my shirt off stuck in my head. And, oh God, I couldn't believe that you'd done that to me. It's like.. that moment changed everything for me. You weren't my safe place anymore.. because.. Lincoln, I felt like shit up there. I felt so.. violated.. and it was you doing it, Linc. And I'm mad at myself for feeling this way because my brain knows it wasn't you.. my body doesn't. I wasn't pissed off with you. I felt betrayed. Wronged. I was scared of you. That's why I walked away when you tried hugging me.. I just couldn't have you touch me. I felt so.. exposed... and open.. and..." Lena's voice finally broke into sobs.
Lincoln hesitated for a couple of seconds, before pulling Lena close to him, and wrapping his arms around her. She stiffened, and he thought she'd pull away - he wouldn't blame her if she did; it was completely okay for her not to want to touch him - but she didn't, and after a while, she even started loosening up.
After her sobs subsided, he unwound his arms from her. "I know it doesn't make it better, but you were right in thinking I'd never hurt you, Lena. That's the last thing I'd do. You have no reason to believe me after what just happened, but.. that wasn't me. The parts that were me were the parts I could remember. You're my best friend. Always. I'd never do something like this to you. I'm so sorry. I can't even begin to imagine how you must've felt. I feel horrible for putting you in that kind of position. I know you're going to need time.. but I hope that you'll forgive me soon, and that things will go back to normal when you do."
Lena nodded. "Lincoln, If you don't mind.. I'm really sleepy.. I've been getting my mind off things by reading these books", she said, her hand gesturing towards the mess on the floor. "Yeah, of course", Lincoln said, getting up. He put a hand out to Lena and pulled her up, too. In silence, he helped her pick up the books and stack them in the corner of the room. She muttered a thank you to him. "Yeah, no problem. See you later, Lena", he said, leaving.
Just as his hand was on the doorknob, Lena called out to him. "Hey, Lincoln. You said that the parts you could remember were the parts that were more you than the demon, right?" "Yeah, they were", Lincoln replied, without turning.
"How come you remembered the kiss?"
There was a pause.