Title: Time After Time (http://www. you tube .com/watch?v=GF8FRmnqy18 - a beautiful Clois AMV to Time after Time)
Rating :K+ I think
Disclaimer: sadly i do not own smallville; if i did the AoS wouldnt exist!
Summary:
Well... it's a continuation of the story from Hex, mainly from a clois angle of things. It's mainly about Clark and Lois needing each other and the rest of season 8...

Note: BIG thanks to Sarah for encouragement and advice :D the most awesome Beta ever!! This was my first story ever and she really helped give me confidence to do it:)

It has been published on Kryptonsite so no plagarism, so erm hope you enjoy it :) Please do give feedback/comment.

Lastly - the second chapter is a lot different (it's got Lois in it :P) so if you found this boring, check back to see if you like the second.

Chapter One

The house was quiet when he woke, too quiet. Clark rubbed his eyes, blearily gazing around, wondering why he felt so empty; wasn't it just yesterday he had been saying to Chloe that he was happy working at the Planet with Lois while saving people as the Red-Blue-Blur?

Wait, Chloe? Lois? Chloe as Lois? All the events of the previous day came rushing back with painful clarity - Zatanna, her wishes, Chloe turning into Lois, a Daily Planet rooftop struggle and then seeing Lois… the real, bossy, irritating as hell Lois – he winced as he remembered their last conversation, in fact the entire day seemed to be made of wince inducing moments. Oh God – that comment about the tight shirt? And the siding with Jimmy conversation?

Not only did this review of the day before make him want to thump his head on a table several times very hard, it also made everything that had seemed so natural and easy in his relationship with Lois seemed kind of wrong now he knew that Lois had actually been Chloe. He didn't want to think about why; he didn't want to think about anything to do with Lois, especially not when the word relationship had entered his mind so easily when thinking about him and her. That was right; him and her. Two separate people, leading separate lives.

Except he wasn't leading much of a life; everything was centred around work or business, he hardly ever saw any of his friends for nothing other than each other's company. He sighed; but if he knew one thing, self pity wasn't the way to solve your problems.

Shaking his head, he got up off the bed and walked downstairs. He made breakfast and sat at the kitchen counter, looking mournfully at the stairs, wishing that things had turned out differently.

He desperately wanted to hear stomping steps on the stairs, accompanied by growls for coffee. He wanted to pretend to have drunk all the milk and to deliberately set the stove on fire in order to see her annoyance. He would then have graciously produced an extra plate of bacon and eggs and smiled smugly at her gruff thanks. Sighing once again, he put his fork down and placed his head in his hands, wondering just quite how insane he was becoming.

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Having filled the last few hours with chores around the farm, Clark returned to the house to grab a drink. It had taken him surprisingly long given the fact that it only usually took him five minutes milk all the cows but today he had lingered over his tasks wanting a distraction; he was scared that if he sat still too long he would drive himself crazy, thinking the same thoughts over and over.

Once back in the kitchen, he quickly opened the fridge, grabbed a carton of orange juice and poured himself a tall glass. He carried it with him to the couch and sat down, using the remote to switch on the TV.

"I hate you, all you do is lie to me! You said you loved me but you've only ever
loved yourself!" Marissa was screaming at Ryan, tears running down her face.

He quickly switched it off - as much as he secretly loved watching TV re-runs of the OC, he didn't think he could handle the copious amounts of angst and drama that seemed to be stuffed into each episode. It wasn't that he found it unbelievable; rather, it sometimes seemed to resemble his own life a bit too much.

Why did misunderstandings, confusion and trust issues all seem stupid and trivial when used in relationships on TV and yet appear to dictate most of the relationships in his life.

His secret, he knew all to well, was the main reason; the danger surrounding it wasn't a joke or something he wanted anyone to experience.

Chloe had gone through so much all because of him – just in the last year she had lost her memory, had to help him deal with Davis Bloome and had her wedding ruined. His mother, his father, Pete, even Lex all have suffered as a consequence of his actions. Hell, the whole of Smallville was affected by the meteor showers that he had, indirectly or not, caused.

And Lana. The girl he had wanted to spend his life with, who he had loved so much. She had been abused and manipulated and hurt and even while not even knowing his secret. But she was in the past now, gone for good and invincible.

But there was another, someone who had always been there, and the effects of his secret on them, he never wanted to think of.

Suddenly he realised the route his thoughts were taking, to the place his thoughts always seemed to go and where he had been avoiding all day. But he couldn't avoid it forever and now he was sitting without distraction, the glass of orange juice long forgotten, everything that he had feared thinking flooded his mind.

He hadn't loved Lana as much as he had thought he had. That was the thought that scared him the most; nine long years of trauma and heart break, only to realise that the whole time he had barely realised what love could be. He was so stupid, so blind. He was glad Lana had gone mainly for the reason that now he wouldn't have to share his discovery with her; the pain of realising the pointlessness of their relationship was at least relieved for him in the discovery of another, but for her, his revelation would simply come with an overwhelming feeling of hurt.

Sighing, he thought back to Chloe's wedding, before it had all gone horribly wrong, when he had had his arms around her and she seemed like his. Lois. He finally dared to think her name. They had been building up to that moment for so long and they had needed that period of progression and discovery – or rather he had needed it. Lois never seemed to need anything. As soon as he thought that, he knew it wasn't true; it was so well hidden that he felt only he could see it, but Lois needed other people to love her and support her however independent she seemed. He hoped those people included him but he could never be sure and if he was, he doubted she would ever let him know.

His mind wandered back to the wedding; the dance with the soft music, her hands on his back, the profile of her face as she gazed over his shoulder at the dance floor.

But Lana had returned and Doomsday had kidnapped Chloe and his fleeting and misguided hopes of him and Lois had run away. He shouldn't have left her alone on the dance floor but Lana was a shock; he never expected her back and he had barely thought of her for months.

And afterwards, with Lois gone to Stars City with barely a word, Lana had been there with her smile and soft voice – it had been so easy to ignore the terrifying realisation that had been creeping up on him, coming closer to the surface the more he was around Lois.

Lana knew his secret, she knew the danger and she was prepared to take it. With her, he could pretend that life was about stopping meteor freaks cheating in football or cheerleaders turning their boyfriends into slaves. He knew how they worked – what to say, what to do, how to feel. With Lois, everything about their relationship was being turned on its head, constantly changing and developing. Most of all, he simply didn't know if he could handle feeling that much for someone, especially if that someone was Lois Lane.

He looked outside and noticed it was dark; it was Saturday evening and he had nothing to do. He pushed himself up off the couch, stretching his legs to ease out the unfamiliar stiffness that came from sitting in the same place for hours. He grabbed a pan from a cupboard, filled it with water and used his heat vision to bring it to boil. Spaghetti seemed an easy option tonight and some ready made bolognaise sauce was in the fridge; after all, with just himself for company, why would he make an effort?

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