Trust your gut.

That's what she told everyone but when push came to shove, she never took her own advice. The Blur's voice over the phone when she thought she was going crazy over those vivid dreams. Clark's unnatural understanding of her hero complex. The Blur's gentle hand on her shoulder in that madman's lab. Clark's absentmindedness over the last couple of weeks.

The evidence was all there, and she was ashamed to admit she'd missed all the clues because she was too caught up in being a part of the big picture. She cringes when she looks back at all those times she teased Clark about how he had absolutely nothing in common with the Blur. She's embarrassed when she recalls all those times she told him he wasn't doing anything with his life on that farm, and she feels tears well up in her eyes when she remembers what she told him that night up on the roof of the Daily Planet.

I wish you could understand what it felt like to have this… a calling, a duty to people and the world.

It was she who didn't understand what that calling truly was. She who thought that running after the big story and shedding light on it was a huge triumph to be applauded by everyone. She who thought she was making all the difference in the world because she put her life on the line on a daily basis to get the scoop. She who grossly underestimated the man she loved because she thought he didn't have a good poker face.

In hindsight, she should have known all along. The same qualities she admired in the Blur were alive in Clark everyday but she was too blind to see them for what they truly were. She was so caught up in finding the big story, in chasing the bad guys, in getting involved in absolutely everything big that went on in and around the city that she never stopped to look at what was going on around her. She naturally assumed Clark wasn't motivated; that perhaps he didn't have what it took to be an investigative reporter of her caliber. She knew better now. The big story didn't excite much emotion in him because there was no bigger story than the one he lived everyday.

First it was the kiss. There was no mistaking those lips, that emotion and that feeling in her heart afterwards. She knew then that Clark was the Blur, but then she'd been fooled by him before. It took finding him half dead on the pavement with a sickly dagger sticking out of his gut to realize how wrong she'd been about him all along. She took the dagger out and threw it clear across the street. It might have been seconds, or minutes or hours, but eventually he began to stir and finally met her eyes. There was confusion there. Then came the panic. She couldn't take on so many emotions at once, so she got up and left him there. She ran to the nearest cab and had him drive to the other side of Metropolis. She just didn't know what to feel.

She didn't talk to him when he opened the door to the farmhouse. Lois simply waltzed in, set her bag on the floor in the living room, and went into the kitchen. He followed her, but she never gave him the chance to speak.

Four days of silence.

That's how long it had been since she found him in the middle of the street and she hadn't said a word to him even though she was standing in front of him in his kitchen. She knew that he was aware of the Blur bomb that was suddenly dropped on her, but she wasn't going to speak out first.

They never talked about it, but she stayed in his bed for the first time that first night. She hugged him close, placing her hand on his chest and on his abdomen when she thought he was asleep; staring at him in the night just to make sure he was still breathing.

Neither went to work in the days that followed; she possessively kept him at home for fear that he would leave her and still she didn't say a word to him. When he heard a call for help in the distance, he broke the silence. He kissed her and told her exactly where he was going. She waited for him anxiously on the porch and when he returned, he told her about his day. When he was done, the silence returned.

He respected it; he understood it and he was baffled by it. He figured she would have a million questions about his identity.

On the fifth day of the silence, she awoke to an empty bed. Seeking him out, she spotted him out on the fields, Shelby by his side. She envied Shelby in a way because the dog didn't look desperate in wanting to be close to Clark. Shelby didn't feel the humiliation of wanting to simultaneously kick him and kiss him for the web of lies he'd told her over the years. She was mad, but deep down she understood why he had kept her in the dark for so long. She only wished she knew how to reach out to him without feeling like a total loser.

So she kept her silence.

When he came back into the house, he kissed her forehead and took her small hand into his large one, leading her into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. She stared at him, amazed at his understanding and amazed that he was no longer hiding who he was from her. When he got that look in his eyes again, he told her where he was going and left.

He was gone all day, but she waited patiently because she knew that if she wanted to stay with him she would have to accept his other life. It wasn't a wild notion for her; she admired him more than ever now and would be there for him as long as he wanted her.

When he finally got home later that night, he walked in with ash in his hair and singed clothing. He approached her and kissed her forehead as he'd done every time he'd left as the Blur but he quickly looked away and began to walk up the stairs.

She followed him, noticing the way he rolled his shoulders as if to relieve some tension, something she realized she had never seen him do before. He removed his black t-shirt slowly, methodically, as if by doing so the cloth would touch as little of him as possible. She noticed the sad look in his eyes that wasn't there when he left and she couldn't take it anymore. She reached out to him and put her hand on his chest over his fast beating heart. For the first time ever, she asked how his task went.

To his credit, he didn't hesitate or act as if it was the first time she had spoken to him in days. He held her close and told her everything.

He always knew Lois would understand. He never told her his secret because he knew what happened to the people that were privy to that information. He didn't want her to have to keep his secret when it meant that she would have to lie to everyone around her as well.

But when she looked at him with those wide eyes, her face clearly showing her concern after the long day that he'd had, there was no turning away from her at that point. Standing in front of her, shirtless, dirty and with a hopeless desperation in his heart, he opened up to her for the first time about whom he really was.

"I didn't get there in time," he begins, and Lois knows that his heart is breaking at the very admission.

She reaches up to him, cupping his face in the most tender way and as he leans into her touch, he closes his eyes and she realizes for the first time the weight of what Clark has had to live with his entire life.

"There was a wildfire in California and though the local fire department had everything under control for the most part, I had this feeling that something was missing. I checked every square mile of the area, I blew out the flames in the most dangerous parts and still I didn't see anything that I could have missed."

He opens his eyes at this, and Lois' heart breaks in two at the sadness in them. She gives him a shaky smile, holding back her own tears and silently urges him to continue.

After a long pause in which he seems to be replaying the scene in his head, he finally looks away from her and continues.

"When I finally stopped and listened, I heard it. It took everything I had, but I finally heard the faintest of heart beats and I sped toward the sound as fast I as I could. There was a man, a young man no older than me that had taken refuge under a car near one of the abandoned roads. I didn't see him because he was under the frame and it was made of lead."

She doesn't understand the entirety of his statement, but she knows that he's blaming himself for that young man's fate. She takes both of his hands in hers and waits for him to continue.

"I was able to move the car away from him, but it was too late. He had inhaled too much smoke and 90% of his body was already burned. I couldn't save him, Lois. Why didn't I hear him sooner? Why wasn't I there for him when he needed me?"

The utter hopelessness in his voice spurred her on and she knew she had to move quickly and carefully to remove that doubt from his thoughts.

"Clark, stop. I don't know why you didn't hear him or see him, but it wasn't your fault." As soon as she says this, he turns to her with a haunted look in his eyes. She can't stand to see that look on his face, not when he had done so much to save everybody else. "Look, we haven't really talked about this whole superhero thing and there are a lot of things about your abilities that I still don't understand but I do know one thing. You did your best with the situation and you can't blame yourself for this. You're one person, Clark, and nobody can expect you to be everywhere at once."

He's quiet for a long time and she wonders if he's had anyone to talk to in the past that could quiet his fears. In the end, she doesn't think it matters. She knows his secret and he'll never have to go through any of this alone again.

"It was the lead," he begins after a while and she's confused before he continues. "I can see through objects; x-ray vision, micro vision, whatever you want to call it. The frame of the vehicle the man was pinned under was made of lead, and that's the one thing I can't see through."

She lets out a long breath at his admission and her heart beats a little slower. He knows there was nothing he could have done about it, but she knows him and he's not going to forget it all that easily.

"What else can you do?" she asks in hopes that she can distract him from the grief he's bringing to himself. He smiles a sad smile and sits down on the bed before answering.

"I can hear objects from miles away, I run faster than the speed of sound, I'm invulnerable to everything except meteor rocks, I can shoot fire from my eyes, cold air through my breath, I can leap tall buildings in a single bound…"

At her stunned silence, he looks away from her and he hunches his shoulders again. She realizes what her reaction must have looked like to him, and she quickly tries to assure him that she was simply stunned, not turned off by his admission.

She lets go of his hand and unceremoniously climbs onto his lap. Once she's straddling him, she holds his head in her hands and looks deep into his eyes.

"You're amazing," she states and places kisses on his forehead, his cheeks, his jaw, and finally, his lips. He holds onto her a little tighter and sighs.

"I don't want to be amazing, Lois, I just want to be able to help."

She recognizes that tone of voice and she knows that nothing short of her best speech is going to get him out of that solemn mood. When he begins trying to separate himself from her, she stands her ground and kisses his jaw again.

"You help a lot more than you realize, Clark. You're strong, you're thoughtful, you're kind, you're selfless," she explains between kisses. "You save people without being asked and without asking for a thank you afterward. And you want to know what else you are?"

He hesitates for a second before responding. "What else?" he finally asks.

"You're the best person I've ever known." With that statement she captures his lips fully with hers and she feels the tension drain from him instantly.

She missed this; being close to Clark and feeling his warmth on her body. She knows they have a lot to talk about; he's not getting away with simple explanations, but for now she's satisfied that she's helped him through a rough patch in his life. She only hopes that her presence is enough in his life going forward.