ok, the long awaited sequel to the Lilies Saga. like i said in the last few chapters of For Her, there were several hidden easter eggs in all three of the first fics (Lilies, Something For Lois and For Her) that alluded to this sequel. did you figure them all out? some are revealed in this very first chapter of the sequel. but keep in mind that everything i write has meaning. even the titles of the fics. sometimes they have multiple meanings.

oh, and if you haven't read any of those first 3 fics, then you will probably be lost in this sequel

so there are hidden easter eggs in the sequel that will allude to future chapters and even the third installment in the trilogy. there are also things that give nods to scenes, lines, etc. in the first three fics. can you catch them all?

this story is presented in Lois' POV. i wanted to write it first because it's going to tell the story the way i want it to right now. there will more than likely be a Clark POV, too. but we'll see how this one goes first

so here we go. know that feedback of any kind is always loved and appreciated.

Author: Alison

Disclaimer: Characters belong to DC, WB, AlMiles, etc., etc., etc. I only own the story and a Keith Urban Monkeyville Passport. It's a KU thing, you wouldn't understand. Even my cat has no clue.

Chapter 1

She slowly pulled the aluminum foil off the plate of deviled eggs. Most of the food was now out of the refrigerator. There just didn't seem to be any more room. Besides, maybe they'd be hungry by the time they got back.

She'd left her car at the old farmhouse and rode with her cousin. But Chloe didn't want to stay afterwards. She was too exhausted, mentally and physically. She also had to drive all the way back to Metropolis before morning. Her classes weren't getting any easier and she was still working as hard as ever at the Daily Planet. So, she'd dropped her off and left.

She walked to the drawer to find a knife to cut Mrs. Johnson's double chocolate fudge cake. The older woman had dropped it off just as Chloe was pulling into the driveway. She seemed upset and didn't want to stay and talk. Neither girl blamed her.

It'd been a long day and an even longer week. She honestly didn't know how she kept herself going. Of course, she was having a hard time understanding why it was affecting her the way it was.

But all of that would have to be sorted out later. She had to keep herself busy. She had to concentrate on the task at hand. That is what her father taught her, after all.

And she did try. But she also caught herself thinking about the past few weeks.

It'd only been a few weeks. So, why did it now feel like an eternity?

He'd bought a memorial to honor her mother. He'd shown her that someone other than family actually cared. He'd shown her that he cared.

And, on some level, she'd probably known that from the very start. She always knew she could trust him. But this was personal. She'd opened up to him and told him things that no one else knew. And look what came of it.

They'd each seen a completely different side to the other. She'd now realized he wasn't just aloof and predictable. No. She saw he had his moments. And she was grateful to witness them.

But lately, things hadn't been as…wonderful. He'd closed himself off from everyone, including her. They couldn't talk. She couldn't reach him. After everything he did for her…she couldn't reach him.

She didn't want to impose. She just wanted to help. They'd been there for her, and she wanted to repay them the best way she knew how. So, she offered her assistance in any way. It was welcomed, but it was one of those things where everyone said, "I just wish it was under better circumstances."

But that never made any sense. If the current circumstances had never come to pass, there would be no need to say anything in the first place. It was just something you had to deal with. She knew that better than anyone.

As she cut the cake, she glanced out the kitchen window at the snow still coming down. They'd already had about four inches and the weatherman said to expect more later that night.

Part of her wanted them to come home so she could make sure they ate something and were settled in for the evening before she headed back to the Talon. She hated driving in the snow.

She sliced the last piece, then scooted the cake over and grabbed the plastic box of sandwiches, taking off the lid. She wasn't sure who was coming. She thought it might just be them, but she couldn't be certain. She had to be ready for anything.

He'd completely taken her by surprise that night. Part of her still couldn't get over it. But he seemed so…caring. He was so willing to sit there and listen to her babble on about her family.

At the time he'd completely thrown her for a loop. Why did he care? He'd done so much for her since then…in more ways than she ever imagined.

She'd struggled to get out of bed the last couple of days. Everything seemed to hit her hard again. It wasn't like during that week of the anniversary, but it was pretty close. And that bothered her.

For some reason this family had crept into her heart. She cared about them and, as had been proven over the last few weeks, they cared for her as well.

But the last few days were unexpected. And he withdrew from her the moment it happened. He withdrew from everyone. He became cold and hollow. The complete opposite of the person she'd come to see only a few short weeks ago.

She'd never admit it out loud, but she missed him. She missed the banter and the general playfulness they had. She was starting to just miss…him.

He'd gradually become her best friend, especially over the last few weeks. They trusted each other, confided in each other. They both knew the other would always be there.

But now, he wasn't. She knew he was hurting. She knew he was sad and depressed.

It was only a week ago they'd laughed so hard watching a movie in her apartment that milk actually shot out his nose and across the room. She still had trouble figuring out how it flew so far.

But they'd laughed. They'd enjoyed each other's company. They just loved being there. Together.

It didn't have to be romantic. It didn't need ulterior motives. They just wanted to be near each other. She knew that and could tell he did, too.

She sighed as she leaned against the sink and folded her arms. All of the food was ready, including the ham she'd put in the oven a couple of hours earlier. There was nothing else to do. It would be dark soon and they still weren't home. She had a feeling they were still out there. After all, she would be, too.

The tires barely made any noise on the snow covered gravel, but she definitely heard the two car doors close. They were home.

The kitchen door opened and the older woman walked in, her black coat lightly dusted with the fresh snow. Her auburn hair hung in her sullen face as she kept her eyes to the floor.

"Mrs. Kent, let me take your coat."

She walked to her and, grabbing the coat from her shoulders, lightly tugged it off her small frame.

She didn't know what to say. What do you say in times like these? Normal conversation just doesn't feel right. But there's no handbook for these awkward situations. You just have to do the best you know how.

Mrs. Kent stood there. She never moved.

Say something.

"There's plenty of food if you're hungry. You probably haven't eaten all day. There's everything from ham and vegetables to cake and brownies."

Nothing. Not a word. Here comes that uncomfortable silence she loathes so much.

She sighed as she walked to the living room and hung the woman's coat on the hall tree. She had to get her to say something.

"Where's Clark?"

She didn't mean to ask it. She didn't know why she asked about him. She just did.

And part of her was glad.

The woman glanced up and their eyes met. She'd clearly been crying. Her pale skin and light blue eyes couldn't hide that.

"I think he went up to his loft."

Oh great, that place. She hadn't been up there since that night. The night they hugged for longer than two seconds. Just the thought of climbing those steps and being up there with him again…well. To say it made her slightly nervous was an understatement.

But that was also considering the events of the past few days. She didn't know how much worse he'd be. Or if he'd want to talk. Even to her.

"Oh, okay." That came out a little more disappointed than she meant, but she was sure it wasn't caught. "Well, would you like anything to eat? There's tons of food here and I think there's even more in the freezer that could be thawed. You know, people will bring anything by, even--"

"Lois." Mrs. Kent held up her hand. "Thank you for all you've done, but I think I'm just gonna go to bed. I've got a headache and I'm just not hungry."

She slowly nodded her head and gave a weak smile. What else could she do?

"Okay. I'll just put some of it away. Should I go see if Clark wants anything?"

Mrs. Kent slowly walked to the stairs and turned as she reached the first step, placing her hand on the railing.

"If you want. He hasn't said a word since this morning. So, I doubt you'll get anything out of him."

She turned and headed up the stairs. Lois' heart sank as she watched her turn the corner at the top of the landing.

What more could she do?

She turned and looked out the door. The snow was still falling hard, but she knew she had to go see him. After all, maybe he'd be hungry.

She grabbed her coat off the hall tree in the living room and threw it on. Opening the door, she braced herself for the cold air. She closed the door gently behind her and carefully made her way down the steps of the old farmhouse. It was barely daylight as the snow fell silently around her. She pulled her coat tight around her small body as she stopped to look at the old blue tractor sitting near the barn.

It was only a couple of weeks ago she'd pulled into the driveway and watched as the two of them shared a laugh while repairing the persistently rundown piece of equipment. She had to swallow hard to keep the tears from forming at the memory.

She shook her head and walked into the barn. He was up there. The light was on. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before making her way up the old wooden steps.

She stopped at the top of the stairs and watched him. He had his back to her as he sat hunched over in the old desk chair.

Should she say something? Should she just walk over to him?

Whatever she did, she knew not to be snide. She couldn't be her usual self. Not now. That's not what he needed.

No. What he needed was someone. Someone who understood what he's going through. Someone who's been there.

She walked behind him and over to the sofa and sat, her arms folded across her chest, trying in vain to keep herself warm. She didn't know how he ever kept from freezing to death in the drafty old barn during the dead of winter.

It's when she leaned forward to speak that she saw it. He held it tight in his hands. The old picture frame had seen better days, but the photograph inside was what was truly important.

"It helps." Nothing. Not even a flinch. Try again. "Pictures help in more ways than most people realize." Still nothing. "They bring the past alive and remind us that no one is ever really gone. As long as we have the memories, they'll always be with us."

His eyes moved, but nothing else. They darted for a brief moment in her direction, but never made contact with hers. He kept his head down and focused on the picture.

"Thanks."

Thanks? She delivered one of the most comforting lines ever and all she got was a 'thanks'?

She had to get him to say something else.

"There's food in the kitchen if you're hung--"

"I'm not."

Well, that was a little rude. She's only trying to help.

But…she knows what he's going through. She was only six when she experienced it. It's the kind of situation that makes you grow up faster than you should.

What else could she do for him?

She took a deep breath and looked down as she tried to figure out the best way to talk to him. To reach him. To comfort him.

Looking up to him, she softened her voice.

"Clark…" Another deep breath. "You know I'm here for you, right? I mean…if you just want to talk. Or if you just want to sit and look at the pictures…"

He seemed to love pouring over all of her old photos. She thought maybe it'd be a comfort to him now, too.

But he was still withdrawn. He wasn't letting her in. And she couldn't figure out why. They'd been so open before. What changed?

"He wasn't supposed to die, Lois."