Apologizing in advance for the grammatical mistakes, but I just finished this and I'm a little too lazy to proof read it. I'll upload the edited version later.
Forty-six days. Over six weeks. A month in a half. That's how long it had been since Doomsday. Since the death of Superman.
Crime was on the rise as the nation mourned the death of a hero and the rest of the League tried to fill his shoes, though that was impossible. Try as they might, there was no replacing the ultimate icon of truth and justice. There was one person, however, who did not mourn the death of Superman. No, Lois Lane-Kent had a much greater burden to bear. She had to deal with the fact that her husband, best friend, father to her child, and partner was gone—and she couldn't say a word about it.
The story was that Clark Kent hadn't been found after Doomsday. There were no signs of him in the wreckage, outside of town, or anything. So, Lois had put up flyers with his picture and information to keep up the charade of a worried wife when she knew full well that he wasn't ever coming back. People would still ask about him and it was getting harder and harder for her not to scream out that he was dead. Gone. Instead, she'd keep the tears that came every time at bay and lie about the false hope she still had for his return.
People asked her about Superman, too. Everyone knew that Superman and Lois Lane had a strong connection, and she had to play it off as if she was just as upset as everyone else. She didn't know which was worse. Lying about Clark or lying about Superman. Either way, it hurt just the same. And as much as she hated herself for saying it, and mainly for feeling it, she resented her son right now.
Every time she looked at that little boy, she saw her husband. Jon was three and looked exactly like Clark. Wide blue eyes, thick black hair and a wide smile—they were like twins. They acted like twins too. Jon was always trying to copy Clark's movements, constantly jumping off the couches and stairs trying to "fly like Daddy." Honestly, Lois had been a little jealous at first because it seemed as though Jon liked Clark more than her. It was stupid and she knew it, but it wasn't exactly like she'd had any experience raising kids or good role models to follow. Of course, when Clark pointed out that Jon had her knack for trouble and repeated almost everything that came out of her mouth (a leading cause of his trouble-making), it eased her worries. So did the fact that he had drawn more pictures with Mommy in them than Daddy, but she never told Clark that.
God, she wished she had. She had been wishing that a lot lately. Not for him to still be alive, because she thought about that every day, but to have had more time with him. They had been together for ten years, not including the fond memories she had of them bickering at the early stages of their relationship. Ten years was not enough time to tell him everything she had wanted to tell him. She found herself reflecting on moments where she'd been mad at him over nothing or had been too busy to have date night with him, and she hated herself for it. He had been the perfect man. And now he was gone.
Lois blinked a couple times and her eyes refocused on the screen in front of her. She was scrolling through her emails, deleting most of them just after looking at the subject line. Most were about Superman, asking for interviews with his closest ally. She denied all of them. For one thing, she just couldn't keep up with the lies. They took all the energy out of her and she wasn't sure if she could keep herself composed for an extended period of time anyhow. She also didn't think Superman deserved an exposé after his death. It wasn't respectful and it wasn't what Clark would have wanted.
"Lois? Someone's here to see you," came her cousin's voice from the door. Lois looked up from her computer screen and couldn't contain her smile when Jon came running over. He was just about the only thing that could make her do that these days, despite what his appearance did to her. He was the only part of Clark that she had left and she couldn't be more grateful for their little miracle. She opened her arms up and scooped him up in her lap when he reached her. His small arms wrapped around her neck and she breathed in his calming scent. When she felt him begin to wiggle, she set him on her knee.
"Hi, baby, how was day care today?" she asked him before plopping a kiss down on his cheek. He smiled that famous Kent smile and she just about melted.
"Good! Me and Rob finger-painted," he said as he began unzipping his little Superman backpack. She had seen it while she and Clark were out shopping. He had immediately groaned about it which, naturally, made her buy it. Jon pulled out the pieces of paint-smudged paper and handed them to her. Her breath hitched when she saw the first one.
It was as neat as any three-year-old's painting would be, but the unmistakable crest for the House of El was sloppily painted in all its primary-colored glory. She tried not to make a reaction to it, but she knew Chloe would be able to tell. The next picture was even sweeter. It was of Jon, her, Clark and Martha all standing beside a yellow house that she assumed was the farm. Lois hugged Jon tight to her chest and kissed his head.
"These are going up on the fridge at home," she said. She looked up at Chloe, who had a sympathetic look in her eyes, and sighed. "Wanna go play with your monster trucks?"
"Yes, please!" he said before scrambling off of her lap and running to the corner of the room. A smile graced her lips again as she watched him toddle over, but then her attention turned back towards Chloe and everything got a little bit darker. Jon was the only light in her life at the moment.
"How are you doing? I know we haven't talked in a couple of days," she asked. Lois pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.
"Chloe, I love you for checking up on me, but I'm the same. I won't tell you I'm okay because I'm not, but I know I have Jon and I have you and Ollie and Martha, so I guess you guys will just have to be enough for me," she said. Chloe winced at her sharp tone and she instantly regretted what she said.
"Sorry, I just… I was just thinking a lot about him before you came in is all," she finally admitted. "I didn't mean that."
"I know, it's okay. And I'm sorry if I'm being overbearing, I just don't know what to do to help you," she said. Lois managed a small smile and reached out to grab her hand. She gave it a small squeeze.
"You have done more than enough for me these past couple weeks. With the funerals, Clark's backstory, all of the help with Jon… you've been more than enough help, Chlo, I just don't think I'm really ready to talk about it yet," she said. "My head is a mess and I'm not letting anyone else up there until I've figured it out."
Chloe sighed, but gave her a look that meant she'd won this round, but it wasn't over yet. Trying to think of something to keep Chloe off her case for a little while longer, she looked over at her computer and thought of something.
"But… if you really want to help me out, do you think Jon could sleep at your place tonight? I have a story I'm working on and could use the silence," she said. She wasn't sure if Chloe would buy the lie, but her eyes lit up as soon as Lois asked. She probably didn't care about the reason, she just wanted to help.
"Of course! You know Ollie and I love having him over. Rob does too, of course. And since it's Saturday, don't worry about picking him up early tomorrow. Just swing by whenever," she said. Lois gave her a quiet thank you and called Jon over to pack up his stuff. He cheered when Lois told him he was sleeping at his Aunt Chloe's, but gave her a hug when she made a fake pouty face. It was too easy to make him feel guilty. Much like his father.
When they left, Lois let out a breath she didn't know she was holding in. Maybe it was because she had been so on edge around Chloe lately. In the beginning, she had given her space, but about two weeks ago Chloe began trying to get her to open up about everything that had happened. She didn't want to be mad at her cousin because she was only trying to help, but her constant attempts to make Lois truly talk about what happened were starting to annoy her. Was she not entitled to a few weeks of silence?
The problem was that the one person she actually wanted to open up to was gone. Clark had been the only person in her life who she had let break down every single wall in front of her heart. He had been the person to pull her back from the worst parts of herself and bring out all of the best. He had made her into a sappy romantic, been a constant shoulder to cry on, and her punching bag when necessary. His strength made her want to be vulnerable.
But now that he was gone, so was that side of her. She turned back to what she knew best- putting up walls. She had done it before Clark had come along, so why couldn't she do it again?
Lois threw herself into her work for the next few hours. It was the end of her first week back, with the Planet having just reopened two weeks ago, and she had taken on a load of assignments to distract her from everything else. Perry hadn't wanted to give them to her, but he never denied a request from Lois Lane, no matter how absurd, and especially not right now. She was grateful for her work. If it wasn't so fast-paced, she'd be going out of her mind.
Though it distracted her, work was just another thing that reminded her of Clark. His name was still etched below hers on their office window, his desk was still untouched because she didn't think she could clean it off just yet, and even a spare pair of glasses were laying on a pile of papers. Seeing them there, Lois picked up the thick frames and slipped them on. What had started as a way to make fun of him and his alter-ego had turned into a sign of affection. She'd wear them when he was gone for days on end or if she knew he was in a particularly scary situation. For whatever reason, they connected her to him.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she thought about that broken connection. She pulled the glasses off and tossed them on her desk before letting the wave of emotions overcome her. It was well past five o'clock, so she wasn't worried about anyone walking in on her as she sobbed into her hands. Cries bubbled up in her chest and she let a few moans escape her mouth. Truthfully, she didn't know how her body kept producing the tears. This had been the case for her every night since Clark died. As the hot tears rolled down her cheeks, her memory recalled the fateful day.
She was standing in her office looking down at the street when Superman landed in the middle of the chaos. He looked tired already. His hair was no longer perfect, his skin and suit were covered in black smudges, and he walked as though he was struggling. But that didn't stop him. No, he walked right towards Doomsday. That's when Lois ran.
As she sprinted down the steps of the Daily Planet, an unsettling feeling brewed in her heart that propelled her towards the fight. When she got to the front doors, she tumbled out the entrance and smacked her head on the glass. Something had shaken the ground so powerfully that it had thrown her off her feet. Looking up at the scene ahead, she understood what it was.
Superman and Doomsday were flying at head on landing alternating blows on each other. Superman would fly him into a building or the ground, but then Doomsday would come right back at him with a kryptonite-packed punch. She wanted to do something to help him, but she knew that if she got involved, he would just get distracted. So all she could do was watch, silently praying that Clark would come out of this alive.
She watched them fight for what felt like years, though in reality, it was probably about ten minutes. His screams physically pained her to hear and watching blood pour from various parts of his body was agonizing. But as both Superman and Doomsday squared off once again, Lois felt some invisible force push her towards the scene. Her feet began to move on their own accord and she had no way of stopping herself.
She was only twenty yards away when she heard it. It was a roar that shook her to the core, but it didn't come from Doomsday. No, Superman had let out a war cry as he blurred at the beast. Despite his speed, she saw what happened next in slow motion. Superman flew directly at the creature, slamming its kryptonite fist into its own chest, and pushing them both into a building. They disappeared in an explosion of smoke and noise, but after a short minute, all was silent.
Finding some strength in her shaking legs, Lois made herself move again. He was alive. He had to be. Superman couldn't die. Clark couldn't die. She would not allow it. As she climbed over some rubble and chunks of concrete, she finally caught a glimpse of Doomsday. She stopped for a second, fearing that he might still be alive, but as she walked closer, she noticed that he was still. She let out a huge sigh of relief, but it turned to worry when she didn't see anyone else.
"Superman?" she called out. She waited thirty seconds before calling his name again. "Superman, are you there?" When he still didn't reply, Lois began to search the rubble.
"Clark?" she whispered, not knowing who may be around. But the combination of adrenaline and fear running through her body made her start to hyperventilate. "Clark! Answer me, Clark!"
A guttural moan from behind her made her whip around. A blue-clad arm reached out from beneath a pile of concrete and she immediately ran to him. Using an amount of strength she didn't know she possessed, she pulled the chunks of concrete off of him and fell to her knees next to his body. His face was covered in soot and dried blood, his suit torn completely down one side, his cape long gone. She cradled his head in her hands and brought her forehead to his.
"Clark, oh my God, I thought I lost you," she whispered. He tried to respond, but instead coughed a healthy amount of blood onto his chest. As her eyes raked his body once more, she found that a large chunk of kryptonite was embedded in the side of his stomach. Gasping, she immediately yanked it out and threw it far away from him. He groaned in pain when she did so, and whimpered as she pressed her hand tightly against the wound.
"Hold on, Smallville," she said. "You're gonna be okay."
"Lois…" he wheezed. His left arm twitched in an effort to move it, but she placed a hand to it.
"Don't try to move or talk, okay? I'm getting you out of here," she said, turning her head to look for any signs of help. Where the hell was the League? Wasn't anyone going to help her?
"Lo… s'okay."
"What?" she said, her eyes snapping back to his paling face only to find violent streaks of green underneath his skin. His eyes still burned with pain and her stomach dropped. When she looked back down at the wound and peeled her hand up, she was not surprised to find small, glowing fragments of kryptonite still stuck in his body.
"No, Clark…" she started. "Help. Help! Somebody help me!"
His large hand found one of hers and managed to move it to his face. She looked around desperately for any sign of assistance once more before she turned back to him, fearing the worst now.
"St-stop. It's okay," Clark stuttered. His stomach was still bleeding freely, but she feared putting pressure on the kryptonite. Instead, she maneuvered herself so she could somewhat cradle him in her arms.
"No! No, I am not giving up on you! You can't die," she yelled, her voice finally breaking on her last words. Clark took in a choked breath and shut his eyes briefly before giving her a look she'd seen before. It wasn't one she'd seen often, but one she would never forget. Defeat. The finality was there in his fading blue eyes and she found herself beginning to break.
"I love you," he said. This was not happening. This was not happening. She shook her head furiously, but another cough from him caused her to clutch him to her chest. "I love you."
"I love you, oh I love you," she whispered. "Please don't leave me."
"Never."
That was the last word that came out of his mouth. She had no idea how long she sat there crying over his body before Oliver forcibly removed her from the scene. It was as if that moment was on constant replay in her head and no matter what she did, it just kept filling her thoughts. His pale, bloody body and empty eyes. The sound of his struggling breathing and voice. It was unbearable.
But she had convinced herself weeks ago that she wouldn't let herself remember him that way because he wouldn't want that. He'd want her to remember him as her Smallville, not Superman or clumsy Clark Kent. So, she allowed herself to cry for a few more minutes before she finally calmed herself down. After wiping the mascara from under her eyes, she stood and packed up her bag. She flipped off the office light and locked up before heading to her car.
On the drive home, she thought about going through some of his things tonight. She didn't want to get rid of anything yet- she didn't think she could, but she wanted to immerse herself in the good memories she had of him. That last one wasn't how she wanted to remember him. When she got home to their empty apartment, she immediately changed into one of his old flannel shirts. It was probably twelve years old, but that's what made it so comfortable.
She sat on the floor in their living room with a bottle of wine and two boxes in front of her. One of them contained his many Kryptonian artifacts and books while the other held many of the knick-knacks and random items he had collected over the years. She pulled a few pictures out of the box that she knew Jon had made him. Most of them were of the three of them, but some were just of Jon and Clark or Superman flying. The next thing she reached for was a picture frame. It was of Clark, Chloe, and Pete Ross. She had only met him once or twice, but he had been Clark's other best friend while growing up.
His father's old jacket was the next thing she pulled out. It was heavy and a little dusty, but she slipped it on anyhow. Both Kent men that had worn this jacket had claimed a part of her heart and wearing it made her feel close to them. Maybe she'd give it to Jon one day when he was older. She rummaged around in that box some more before her eyes turned toward the other box. Peeking over the top, she immediately began to tremble.
The gold and silver bracelet he had gifted her, the bracelet for Naman's one true love, was sitting on top of the items in the box. She tentatively reached out and picked it up. It was cool in her hand and she ran her thumb over the aquamarine stone in the middle. She remembered when he had given it to her. It was a year or two after their engagement. He had admitted that he had forgotten about it and that's why he had never given it to her before. She had put it back in the box though because putting it on seemed to transport her to the Fortress.
She reached for what she liked to call her 'Unabridged User's Guide to All Things Kryptonian'. Smiling as her fingers touched the old leather, she opened it for the first time in years. She didn't need it anymore, having learned anything and everything there was to know about Kal-El of Krypton, but she used to peek at it every once in a while when she needed a refresher. It also reminded her of the first time they made love. He had given this book to her, telling her she was his one and only.
"God, I miss you," she whispered. Holding the book close to her chest, she shut her eyes and let a single tear roll down her cheek. Refusing to dissipate into a puddle of tears again, she wiped her face with her sleeve and put the wine glass to her lips.
Three glasses and an hour later, she felt sleep beginning to claim her. Sleepily, she rose and deposited her glass in the dishwasher. She would clean the boxes up in the morning. Right now, she just needed to sleep. She locked the front door and turned all the lights off before finally making it to her bedroom. As she shut the door and turned towards the balcony, she froze.
It's not possible.
He was there. Standing in the threshold of their balcony, looking as if he was trying to catch his breath, was Superman. Clark. She couldn't move a single muscle. There was too much going on, too much to process for her head to be thinking clearly. Was it the wine? Had she become that much of a lightweight that she was hallucinating her dead husband? No, she didn't think that was possible.
But there he was, wearing the same black Superman suit that he had been buried in. His blue eyes were wildly searching hers, but she still could not comprehend what was happening. It seemed her body did though, because when he took a step forward into the bedroom, her legs moved backwards. Her knees buckled as her back hit the dresser behind her, but his arms caught her before she could fall.
"Lois," he breathed. Her insides melted upon hearing his voice. That voice she had imagined every day since she lost him. But that was just it. She had lost him. Her entire body trembled as she pushed at his biceps. This wasn't Clark. It couldn't be.
"Who are you?" she asked. Confusion flashed across the imposter's features, but only briefly. He went to touch her arms again, and she let him because she wasn't entirely sure that she wasn't dreaming right now.
"Lo, it's me," he said. A sob escaped her mouth upon hearing the familiar nickname, but she shook her head. This wasn't happening. This wasn't real. This wasn't Clark.
"I don't believe you," she managed. His mouth pressed in a tight line at first, but then he brought his eyes completely level with hers. Familiar blue eyes swirled in front of her that screamed he was telling the truth.
"Yes, you do. You know me," he breathed. The dams inside of her were close to breaking now because he was right. If he wasn't him, she would've known the minute he walked in the room.
"Clark?" she choked out. A look of relief passed on his face and he reached up to caress her cheek.
"I told you I wouldn't leave you."
She collapsed into his chest, clinging to every inch of him she possibly could. Her arms and legs wrapped around him and she buried her face into his shoulder before the waterworks started. It was the smell that did it. When he was standing there in front of her, it was easy to think it could be a dream. Even when he caught her before she fell. But when his scent hit her, everything became way too real.
"Shh, baby, I'm here. I'm here," he whispered. Though his reassurance helped, it only made her cry harder. She felt his hands in her hair, brushing his fingers through her brown locks in an attempt to soothe her, but to no avail. She said nothing as he did this. He whispered more words of assurance as she tried to quell her cries and eventually was able to look at him when he moved them to the edge of the bed. She was sitting in his lap with her arms and legs tightly wrapped around his steel body when her eyes finally met his baby blues.
"Clark," she said again, trying to make sense of everything. Her mind was not able to process everything that was happening. He touched her cheek lightly and smiled.
"It's me," he said.
"Clark… you were gone," she whispered hoarsely. "You died."
"I did," he said. "I woke up in the Fortress and Jor-El told me-"
"I don't care," she as she reached up at his face. "Right now, I don't care." His eyes softened at this and he bent his mouth to hers. The second their lips met, Lois felt a wave of pure joy flow through her body. It was like the first time she had really kissed him. Her fingertips and toes curled at the electric pulses he sent throughout her body. Slowly releasing his bottom lip from between her own, she pulled away and traced his cheekbone with her thumb.
"You're real, aren't you?" she whispered. In any other circumstance, she knew he probably would have laughed at her, but she saw no humor in his eyes when he answered.
"I'm real. I'm not going anywhere."
Embracing him again, she buried her face in the crook of his neck and allowed the rest of the tears she had been holding in escape her. Her fingers knotted themselves in his hair before sliding down his neck to his shoulders. God, he felt so good. Every breath she took was full of his scent, which is eventually what worked to calm her down. Feeling him shift slightly beneath her, she unwrapped her legs so that they were on either side of his strong thighs. She wiped her face across his shoulder in an attempt to clear her eyes and sniffled as she looked back up at him.
All she could do was stare. He said nothing, probably knowing that she needed this moment to truly grasp the reality of the situation. Her fingertips traced up his broad shoulders along the curves of his neck until she reached his chiseled jaw. Every contour and dip of his face was mapped under her fingers until she reached his hair again. The thick, black locks were so incredibly soft as she threaded her fingers through it and down to his ears. Pulling his face towards her, she kissed him again, slowly and as gently as possible. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up with the intimacy of the moment and she let out a shaky breath before pressing her forehead to his.
"How?" she breathed.
"The Fortress. I woke up in a regenerative chamber and came here as soon as my powers came back," he said. His voice in her ear made her shiver which caused her arms to instinctively wrap around him again. All she could think was that this better not be a dream. Pulling her head away from his, she stared into his eyes again.
"You have no idea how much I missed you," she whispered. Her throat was closing up again despite her mental protests, but she couldn't help it. The feeling of him beneath her as his hands stroked her back was giving her a sensory overload. Tears welled up in her eyes again, but as she attempted to blink them away, his lips came forward and kissed each eyelid delicately.
"You don't have to anymore. I'm home."
Nodding because she didn't trust herself to speak without blubbering again, she pressed her lips against his again. Winding her arms around his neck, she tried to get her body as close to him as possible. Knowing what she was trying to do, Clark helped her by tightening his grip on her. One arm held her firmly against his chest while the other found its way back into her hair. When she parted her lips and felt the tip of his tongue trace the fullness of her bottom lip, she shuddered. Moaning, she granted him complete access and lost herself in his familiar taste.
She felt him lean back on the bed so that she was completely on top of him and she pressed herself against as much of his body as she could. She did so to reassure her of his fullness and life, but did not realize how much her own body had missed him. A year ago, four weeks without sex would have probably killed her, but the pain of losing Clark had simply torn away any other emotion she had besides the sadness. If she was sex deprived, she didn't notice it until now. Her hands pulled at the collar of his suit, but it didn't give way.
"How the hell do you get this thing off again?" she murmured against his lips. He pulled away from her mouth suddenly and looked at her.
"Lois, are you sure-"
Just her look cut him off completely. It wasn't angry, wasn't sad or annoyed, but something entirely different. In fact, her gaze was so intense on him that he wordlessly and gently extracted himself from her so that he could blur into just his underwear. With his now naked chest in front of her, Lois's look softened, but only for a moment. She silently raked her eyes down his shoulders, chest and stomach. Swallowing, she placed one of her hands against his chest and almost jumped at how hot he was. She had forgotten about that.
Sliding her leg over his, she rolled him back over and pressed a kiss over his heart before sliding her lips back to his. She felt his hands on her waist, slowly sliding down to her thighs and under her shirt. She shivered at his touch, his hands grazing up and down the sides of her stomach. Feeling the need for more contact, she sat up and began unbuttoning the flannel. She kept her eyes locked on his the entire time and his gaze didn't stray until she pulled the fabric off of her shoulders. But before he could get a good look, she had already bent back down to him. Her breasts pressed up against his bare chest and she sighed.
"I need you," she whispered.
"You have me."
Nipping at his bottom lip, she pushed her tongue into his mouth, which he accepted eagerly. God, he tasted good. She would never get enough of this. Ever. His hips bucked up and the evidence of his arousal pressed against her core. Not bothering to suppress her moan, she ground her hips into his and let out a yelp when his mouth tore away from hers to instead latch onto her left nipple. Threading her fingers through his hair, she sighed in content.
"Oh, Clark," she whispered. His lips trailed light kisses across her chest until he reached her other breast and gave it the same attention as the last. As much as she enjoyed what his mouth what doing to her, she needed more. She needed all of him. Bringing her hands to his cheeks, she pulled his face up so that it was level with hers. He kissed her again, immediately slipping his tongue in her mouth. He dominated her and she loved it. Clark was the only man who she had ever wanted to be in control of her.
No longer able to control herself, she pulled away reluctantly from him, moving towards the pillows before finally laying down on her back. He crawled between her legs and moved so that he was able to continue his assault on her mouth. As he did, Lois moved her hands down the planes of his stomach, leisurely exploring the crevices of his toned muscles before they reached the waistband of his boxers and pushed the material down as far as she could until Clark finally removed the pesky garment himself. She felt his fingers on her first, gently circling the small bundle of nerves between her legs still covered by her cotton pajama shorts, but she was in no need of anymore foreplay.
"Please," she whispered as her own hand reached down to capture his. He looked down at her tenderly and pressed a soft kiss to her mouth before complying. He trailed a few butterfly kisses down her chest and stomach as his finger hooked around the waistband of her shorts. Lifting her hips in assistance, he tugged them off and they were immediately lost in the darkness of the room. His eyes had never left hers the entire time and she whimpered as he moved back over her. As he situated himself at her entrance, Lois hiked her legs up around his waist and shuddered as he pressed the length of his body against her. A large hand caressed her cheek, beckoning her to look directly into the eyes of the man she never thought she'd see again. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him back to her lips and gasped as he slid fully into her.
This was home. This was where she wanted to be and how she wanted to feel for the rest of her life. This was everything. He didn't move at first and she was thankful for that, not only for the practical reason that it had been a while, but rather for the fact that she never wanted this moment to end. Her eyes had closed involuntarily at the contact, but her name on his lips caused them to flutter open. Seeing those blue eyes gazing down at her again caused a quivering breath to come out of her and she nodded at him. As he began to slowly slide in and out of her, she let out a small gasp.
"Oh, Smallville," she whispered. "Clark."
"I'm here. I'm yours."
Her lips sought his once more and his rhythm picked up. It wasn't long until the familiar build began and she found herself moving her hips up towards him. The connection between the two of them, not only physically, but emotionally, was indescribable. She wanted him inside of her body, her heart, her soul. She needed this man to consume her. How she had gone as long as she had without him was an insane thought at this moment, but she pushed it away as she heard him say her name again.
"Lois," he breathed. "God, Lo."
The familiar nickname had an unexpected effect on her and tears pricked at her eyes again. Clutching at his muscular shoulders, she buried her head in his neck and left open-mouthed kisses on his hot skin. Teeth scraped against him as he hit a particularly sensitive spot and she let out a little cry. Listening to the sounds of his breathing and feeling the strong pulsating inside of her, she knew it wouldn't be long for either of them. As she wound her arms around his neck again, she leaned her head back against the pillow and looked straight up at him. His eyes immediately connected with hers and she felt her chest constrict.
"I love you. I love you," she repeated, unable to form a reason why she hadn't said it already. Leaning down again, he fused his lips to hers as he continued to thrust into her. As his speed increased, his lips did not leave hers. They were connected from head to toe, their breaths mingling together as one. But as the pressure between her legs and the tightening coil in her abdomen became too much to handle, she cried into his mouth and stiffened at the powerful sensation that exploded throughout her body. She briefly felt Clark's body tense as well, but she was too caught up in her own euphoria to really notice. Every square inch of her tingled with pleasure and she found herself almost gasping for air.
However, as she came down from her own high, she felt the comforting weight of his body on top of her own. He was breathing deeply, sucking in breaths next to her ear and a brief thought crossed her mind about whether his body was still recovering from coming back. When he tried to move himself from her, she tightened her grip around him, keeping him anchored to her.
"Don't," she whispered. "Stay right there."
She felt him nod into her shoulder, understanding without explanation, and then place a kiss in the same spot. The solid weight over her was keeping her tethered to the moment they had just shared and she wasn't ready to let go just yet. Still, she felt him keeping most of his weight up on his forearms and the mattress began to vibrate next to her after a few moments. Lessening her hold on him, Clark rolled off of her on to his side, but brought her with him. Kicking up the comforter with his foot, he managed to pull it over their equally weak bodies while still keeping her pressed against him. Finally satisfied with the bed arrangements, he moved onto his back and pulled most of her weight on top of him.
His heartbeat was strong underneath her ear as she listened for the intensity of it to slow down. Not usually one for long silences, Lois couldn't think of any words in that moment that were good enough to disrupt the steady beating of his heart. She felt the pressure of his mouth on her head and nuzzled into his chest. Moving her head from his chest up to the crook of his neck, she sighed in content and kissed the curve of his shoulder.
"I love you," he whispered. "So much."
The hand she had over his heart trailed up around his neck as she used it to leverage herself higher up his body. Kissing along his neck, up to his cheek and just below his ear, she turned his face towards her in order to place a soft kiss on his lips.
"I love you, too," she whispered. "More than you'll ever know. I love you."
Her head returned to the spot just below his chin and she closed her eyes. The scent of him was still so fresh and strong that she couldn't help but nuzzle into the warm skin. With his hand alternating between languidly stroking her back and running through her hair, she didn't think anything could possibly be better than this. This… this was heaven. Time passed slowly, or maybe not at all, but it seemed like they laid there for eternity before he spoke again.
"Lo?"
"Mmm?"
"Where's Jon?" he asked softly. Her fingers stopped drawing imaginary circles on his chest as the words hit her. Jon. Chloe. Martha. All of them.God, she hadn't even thought about anyone else!
"At Chloe and Ollie's," she replied. He didn't answer immediately and she shut her eyes. The memories of the past couple of weeks came rushing back and she couldn't force them out of her head as much as she tried.
"Why?" he asked.
"I, um… I needed a night alone," she said. Maneuvering her body to his side, she rested her head on his bicep so that she could face him. Blue eyes questioned her silently and she touched his cheek. The smooth lines of his jaw were all she could focus on as she tried to formulate a response to his unspoken question. Closing her eyes, afraid of crying again, she moved her hand just far back enough to finger the tendrils of hair on the nape of his neck.
"I wasn't strong."
Feeling his arm begin to curl her into him, she allowed herself to be cuddled to his side. There, in the cage of his arms, she was safe. All of her faults and weaknesses over the past month could not touch her in his embrace. Burying her face into his chest, she continued.
"I was so weak, Clark. I couldn't do it without you. I was so alone," she murmured.
"Shh… it's okay. It's okay."
"It's not," she said into his chest. "I had Jon and Chloe and your mom, but I just felt so… lost. So empty. I wasn't me."
"That's over now. I'm back. I'm not going anywhere, I told you," he said. A flashback of that last promise made her shudder, but he pulled her closer, if that was possible. Nodding into him, she stayed silent in his warm embrace until she was sure she could talk again without breaking out into tears for what felt like the thousandth time. She relaxed in his grip and he did the same, but kept his arms around her. Looking up into his eyes, she sighed.
"I don't want this to be a dream," she said. Gentle fingers ghosted across her cheek and brushed a piece of hair away from her face, replacing the empty space with a light kiss.
"It won't be. I promise. I'll be here when you wake up."
"I still don't want to go to sleep yet."
"Okay."
They stayed that way, hazel eyes looking into blue, for a long while. She knew that he probably had a million and one questions about what was going on, but she couldn't bring herself to answer all he needed to know yet. So, she started simple.
"Everyone's missed you. We had a funeral. Two, actually."
"I know."
She frowned in confusion, but his thumb smoothed away the creases on her forehead. His broad chest expanded with the deep breath he sucked into his lungs before he spoke.
"I was awake in the Fortress for a few days. I was still too weak to move and didn't have my powers back, so I couldn't leave. Jor-El told me most of what was going on," he explained. "Doomsday is gone. For good."
"Okay," she said simply. After a beat, she took a deep breath as well. "Is there anything you want to know?"
"Nothing that can't wait until tomorrow," he said with a shake of his head.
"Do you want to go get Jon?"
"Yes," he said softly. "But he's asleep. So is everyone else. No use waking anyone up right now."
"Clark…" she started, but he stopped her with a light kiss on the forehead.
"You need me right now. We'll see our son in the morning," he said. Her heart swelled at his tender words and the way his eyes conveyed just what she needed to know—that he understood and harbored no resentments towards her selfishness. Lightly touching her lips to his, she sighed and found her favorite position on his chest again.
"Thank you."
"Shh. Go to sleep, Lo."
"You'll be here when I wake up?"
"I promise."
"Okay," she said. Closing her eyes, she pressed a final kiss to his bare chest before adjusting to find a comfortable spot. As she felt his breathing start to even out, she whispered his name.
"Smallville?"
"Yes?"
"I love you."
"I love you, too."
"See you in the morning."
"Yes, you will."
With the love of her life resting safely beside her, she couldn't think of a single worry in the world. The story of Superman's return, Clark Kent's reemergence from the ashes, figuring out how to tell his family and friends he was alive… none of it mattered. He was back. Forever.