Disclaimer: I do not own Smallville or anything associated with it.

Author's Note: This is just a quick Clois based one-shot that I typed up in an evening after seeing the previews for 'Bride' (season 8 episode 10) so there are a couple of spoilers and it has not been beta-d. This is my first attempt at Smallville fanfiction so I'd really appreciate feedback. =] Quite angst-y so I am thinking about expanding it into a three part series where the second part is done from Clark's POV and then a third one as an epilogue where they are reunited. Maybe. It is not intended as a Clana fic - this chapter is from Lois' POV which, as we are all aware, often jumps to hasty conclusions. Enjoy.

Losing Lois Lane

Waiting in that hospital had been the hardest thing she had ever done.

Tears had not fallen at her mother's funeral, those had been reserved for a purely private time when her younger sister could not see her fall apart and she could still be considered 'Daddy's little soldier'. Tears had not fallen when her sister had been shipped out to be schooled in Europe despite the loneliness that had threatened to engulf her. And yet here they were, unannounced and unwanted, as she waited in the hospital corridor at Star City with nothing to accompany her but her wandering thoughts. And damn her rebellious mind could not help but stray to the moment where she had believed, just for a second, that everything was right with the world; Chloe was happily married, the ceremony had gone off without a hitch and she was there, finally, being held in his arms, in Clark's arms, in a way that was not entirely platonic.

And then everything had been shot to hell, as she had known it inevitably would be. Somewhere in the back of her mind she had known it was too good to be true because nothing in life was ever as simple as the happy ever afters she had read to Lucy when they were young. This was reality; there were certainly damsels in distress but there were no heroes able to save them. Her thoughts were a crazy jumble of emotions and she was vaguely aware that she was rocking back and forth on her heels in a gesture that implied the madness that was currently battling for dominance in her mind. Her eyes stared, unseeingly, at the wall ahead of her, the nervous habit of biting her nails, a habit long banished by the General as being weak, hideously re-surfaced. She wondered where that monster could have taken Chloe, why it wanted her, how they would find her, how they would get her back, what was going to happen to Jimmy and, finally, back to Clark.

The selfishness of her thoughts struck her like a blow to the stomach and she felt bile rise in the back of her throat in disgust at herself. Her cousin had been kidnapped, her cousin-in-law lying in critical condition and all she could wonder about was what meaning had lurked behind that lopsided grin and those smouldering eyes. Had it been her imagination or had he leant towards her as she had gravitated towards him? That moment of horrible indecision where she had been so unsure of herself had almost been worth it. She had tasted his breath on her lips in the ghost of a kiss and then it had all but died upon her mouth as he had rapidly pulled away. What had he been thinking in those few, brief, intimate seconds? It did not matter now because it could not matter now. There were greater things to worry about in the world than what she wanted. Someone had told her that not too long ago and she had bristled at the thought that she was not important enough to fight for and yet, stood in the cold, white hallway, she suddenly, inexplicably understood how that felt and how difficult it was to suppress the urge to wallow in self-pity.

And she had seen them together. Lana and Clark; the perfect, predictable couple. Of course he still loved the petite brunette and, she was shocked to find that, despite the jealousy that raged rampant across her heart, she understood. It had always been this way with them; they would break up and Clark would be broken but she would come back a few months later all apologetic and remorseful and he could not help but forgive her. It was something Lois both admired in Clark and hated the most; his ability to completely trust someone to the point of naivety and see the best in everyone. When Lois heard Lana apologise she heard empty promises of how 'things would be different' and too late declarations that she 'could never love someone as much as she loved him'. When Clark heard Lana apologise he heard sincerity and love and everything he had ever wanted to hear fall from those seductively dangerous lips. Because that's what it was; what he wanted to hear. And didn't Lana just know it? Lois refused to allow any feelings of anger or bitterness be directed at either party involved; she was not that petty. Jealousy? Yes. Of course, who could blame her for that one? And there was a slight hint of bitterness that tasted metallic, like blood, in her mouth that, try as she might, she could not suppress when she thought of everything that could have been.

It did not matter any longer.

She shook her head of ponderings over the Lana/Clark relationship and focused on listening for the call of the nurse for when she could get in and see Jimmy in his new room at Star City. If her mind had not already been made up to keep vigil by her cousin-in-law's bed before, seeing Clark and Lana in the hospital had convinced her of her decision. She was not going to sit around and idly mope whilst she watched them rekindle their romance over a lost friend. She was going to do something at least somewhat remotely useful and play doctor which entailed sitting by Jimmy's bedside so he would not wake up alone and that was pretty much it. Okay so it wasn't a completely selfless act; she needed time away from Smallville, the place and the person, but when had she ever professed to being a saint? She couldn't even list one saintly quality about herself when she thought hard enough about it. She was bossy, rude, arrogant, nosy and jumped to conclusions. When she had seen Lana back at the barn she had not guessed or assumed but had known that Clark would instantly leave her side to stand beside the woman who truly held his heart. And when he had asked how she was in that clinical hospital corridor, it was all she could do not to rail against him, fists flailing and feet kicking, screaming that nothing was fine and she wasn't sure it ever would be but instead had offered information about Jimmy if only to get the spotlight away from her and the fact that she was not coping, was, in fact, barely keeping her head above the sea of insanity that threatened at any given moment to drown her completely. She hated the look in his eyes when she had said that Jimmy was not out of the woods; the look that steeled himself against the worst case scenario and she hated that she had brought that darkness to his eyes with one sentence.

Even when Clark had hugged her, she had automatically jumped to the assumption that it was a goodbye embrace because his eyes had held pity in them as he looked at her; the broken wreck that she was. Her arms had remained limp at her sides and she could not for the life of her find the energy to return his comforting gesture. It was in a moment of complete and utter weakness that she found her body melting against his strong frame and she knew, irrefutably and irrationally, that she had lingered a moment too long in his embrace. Drawing away had almost caused her physical pain and she relished, sadistically, in the fact that she left him speechless as she walked away from him. Her resolve and her pride had weakened enough in those few moments in his arms to allow one last glance at the man she was leaving and she had suffered the stark realisation that that may be the last time she saw him for several months, maybe even longer. She doubted he was hurting as much as she was at that prospect. Her head slowly turned to her left as a nurse approached her calling her name and watching her carefully with pitying, branding eyes. She followed the nurse down the corridor to find Jimmy tucked up in a hospital bed like a broken rag doll clinging onto the very edge of life with both hands and she dreaded the day he would awake only to find that his bride was missing. Not dead, Lois reminded herself firmly, missing. As she sunk into the chair beside his bed she felt her eyes well up once more, tears following the well-worn tracks down her cheeks, and she was struck by a sadness so profound that it consumed her entire soul.

It was three days later that she could be found sitting in the chair that had become her permanent resting place despite the hospital's strict visiting hours. Her face was drawn and pinched in her complete disregard for her own health whilst she watched over Jimmy; her only companion the sound of his heart beat beeping green on a computer screen. Her phone began ringing cutting through the raging silence. Hardly acknowledging the sound due to lack of sleep, it was only when the shrill noise pierced her subconscious on the second ring that she reached into the bag at the foot of her chair. Clark's name flashed on the caller ID. Debating for only a moment as to whether she should answer or not, she stared at the phone.

Lois 'Mad Dog' Lane would not think twice before flipping open the phone and demanding to know what had happened, where Chloe was, why the hell he had taken this long to find her and was he just sitting on his Smallville sweet cheeks?

Three rings.

Lois 'Daddy's little soldier' Lane would have accepted the phone call with a roll of the eyes, made a snide comment about Lana and warned him not to leave any video cameras around.

Four rings.

Lois 'big cuz' Lane would have been out there searching for Chloe herself instead of hiding in a hospital behind the mask of a concerned family member turned Florence Nightingale.

Five rings.

She let the call go to voicemail.

And she wondered when she had become Lois 'the coward' Lane.

~*~ End ~*~