For: Written for Achtungbecca on DI :) for the Summer Ficstravaganza.
Prompt: Season 9 Lois' Apartment: Hall
Summary: It is the summer after the end of [a hypothetical] season 9 and Clark has been for gone several months. Where is he? How is Lois coping? And most importantly – when is he coming back?
Backing music: http://www. youtube .com/view_play_list?p=6B70B11F1CC053B7 (take out spaces before and after youtube)
Notes: Beta'd by Sarah/Sarahbookjunkie at various online places :) - she's fantabulous, look her up! This fic says that Clark and Lois were dating mid-season 9 - at the time of writing I never thought that would happen... buuut it fits into season 9 better than I thought :P
Please review! Mega-long, just to warn you ;)
Come Back To Me
The door eased quietly open, and Lois stepped into the hall of her empty flat. It was, for once, clean and tidy with the floor actually visible and the coffee table uncluttered with the usual papers and mugs that littered its surface. It unsettled her to see it like this; she had worked so hard to make it feel just a little bit like home, to use her mess to cover that fact that it was quite clearly not.
But it had been several months now since she had attempted to make anywhere feel like somewhere she could be comfortable and safe; she didn't know when she would feel like that again; how could she when he was gone?
The air was reasonably cool given the sweltering temperatures outside, but she didn't really notice. She felt dazed, and light headed; the light from the window reaching her eyes in a stream of stars, with the dust swirling dizzily in front of her. She rubbed her forehead and took another step into the flat, forgetting to close the door behind her and letting her bag drop carelessly to the floor.
To her left she knew lay the kitchen with its cool tap water and smooth surfaces upon which she would have loved to lain her head, but she didn't move, letting the tips of her fingers grind into her head to relive a headache she didn't even have. It had been one of those days; long and tiring and numbing.
She opened her eyes and ground her teeth down on her lip; she was headed for another one of her dark periods that crept up on her too often these days just when she thought she was going to be okay. Shaking herself in attempt to focus, she strode towards her kitchen but then caught sight of a picture hung seemingly carelessly on the wall opposite the door, and froze.
It was of her and Clark – who else? – stood together at Kent farm, smiles lightly settled on both their faces as if unconsciously, and both looking at each other, no, into each other, gazing deep into the depths of the other's eyes. It seemed a painfully private moment to have been captured, and yet at the time they had been far from involved. At once the memory of when Clark had given it to her thrust itself to the forefront of her mind…
Laughing, Lois stumbled inside the flat closely followed by Clark also laughing, his hands reaching for her waist as she danced out the way.
"Na ah – hands away! I'm not going near you until you've had a shower." She paused for a minute, just out of reach, and sniffed exaggeratedly before wrinkling her nose. "Make that showers!" Clark lunged for her.
"If I remember correctly, it was you that got sprayed with the perfume and who then rubbed it all over me!" He said in mock-anger, and once again reached out to grab her, and she stepped quickly out of reach at the threshold of the kitchen.
"Mr Kent, I think you're forgetting it was you that sprayed it on me and therefore I don't think you have right to an opinion right now."
"I was just spraying it; you didn't have to jump in the way!" She narrowed her eyes, and her hands placed themselves on her hips - he gulped.
"Oh really Clark? Because I was really enjoying getting hit on by the sales clerk while you stood chatting to that little, blonde airhead! I jumped out the way of his leering hands, not that you seemed to notice." She stepped threateningly away from the edge of the kitchen towards him, her finger pointed dangerously at his chest. "So you only have yourself to blame for being an insensitive, uncaring and inattentive boyfriend!" With each insult she poked her finger viciously at his chest.
Clark bit his lip and a hurt, befuddled expression filled his wide eyes.
"Oh no you don't!" Lois exclaimed, throwing up her hands in frustration. "Do not, I repeat, DO NOT turn on the puppy dog eyes!" He continued to pout slightly, adding in a small frown that made him look utterly adorable.
"SMALLVILLE! I am trying to be angry at you!" He didn't move. She looked at him a moment longer then fell apart, wrapping her arms around him and burying her head in his chest.
"That was a dirty trick, Clark." She mumbled, inhaling the smell of soap and hay from his shirt.
"But it worked." He chuckled and hugged her back, laying his chin on top of her head. They stood there like that for a moment in the silence of the flat, just enjoying the warmth of the other.
"Oh!" Clark said suddenly. "Chloe gave me something… I thought you might want to see it." Lois pushed back off his chest, smiling.
"Sounds… vague – what is it?" Clark reached into his back pocket with one arm still around her, and pulled out what looked like a small sheet of paper with some words written on the back.
"What's that – her shopping list?" Lois twisted round to try and get a better glimpse as he raised it about her head.
"No. It's something better than that."
"Because not a lot could be, right?" Lois snorted.
"Seriously, I love it and… I hope you will too." He brought it back down and held in front of them, so they could both see it. Lois leant forward slightly and took it in; their bright, subtle smiles, the total absorption in each other, the backdrop of the sunny Kent farm.
"Woah." She said softly. "It's… well wow. Um… you can't see my double chin!" Her voice was shaky, affected by the strength of emotion portrayed in the picture.
"Lois… you do not have a double chin. You look gorgeous." Giggling, she tapped him lightly on the nose.
"I've got you well trained, Clarkie." Clark placed his head back on top of her silky hair, squeezing her tightly. "So when was it taken?"
"I don't know. I don't remember Chloe taking it." He admitted.
"Could you, er, make me a copy? Just because, well, it's not the most awful photo I've ever seen."
Clark chuckled before replying seriously. "It is yours. Well, ours; both of ours." He grinned and flipped the photo over to reveal writing on the back.
"What do you mean?" Lois asked, looking up at him.
"Read what's on the back…" He smiled tentatively at her, suddenly afraid. She looked back down and read the words written in smooth script on the back:
"Dear Lois, this is to hang on the wall in your new home with Clark – hope you've said yes! I thought it would be a nice, constant reminder of how sickeningly in love you two are, plus I really rate the photographer! Lots of love Chloe."
Lois read the words again, letting their meaning sink in.
"Clark…" She began nervously; scared of having gotten it wrong. "Are you… asking me to-"
"Move in with me?" He swallowed. "Yeah." The flat was silent for a moment as Lois stood there, her arms still around his chest, head at an angle re-reading the words for the third time. Then suddenly she tilted her head up; she was beaming, her eyes sparkling with happiness.
"Oh my god – yes! Yes! Of course!" She laughed and squeezed him tighter; he let the photo fall to the floor as he wrapped his other arm around her again and lifted her up the floor, laughing. He whirled her round as she clung to him, then came to a stop and put her down.
He stepped back slightly, and placed his hands on her shoulders, looking at her seriously.
"Lois - are you sure? Completely and totally sure? Because it's a big step and if you aren't then that's fine; I'm okay with whatever you're okay with."
Lois smiled, almost sadly, hopelessly, as if she felt she would never be able to make him understand the sincerity of her words.
"Yes… one hundred times – yes. I want to live with you: I want to wake up and have you next to me, to come home and find you already here. Clark I-" Her voice choked up slightly, and she squeezed her eyes briefly shut to stop a few embarrassing tears from trickling out. "I love you."
Immediately, his mouth stretched into a happy grin and he pulled her to him, leaning to kiss her but before he could, she stopped him with a finger on his lips.
"By the way, don't think just because I love you that I'll be giving up my marathon 3 hour showers and impromptu White Snake mini-raves."
"Never, Lois." He laughed, "Never."
Lois gasped as the memory ended; the loneliness of not having his arms around her, of not hearing his voice every hour of everyday whenever she wanted hit her like a gust of icy wind. They could have been so happy; it was so cruel that, in that moment, she had thought it would be like that forever.
Her finger drifted to the photo, tracing his outline, wanting so much for it to be his warm cheek beneath, not the glossy, cold material that smudged, not glowed, under her touch.
She withdrew her hand reluctantly, forcing herself not to cry, not to let go but it had been such a long time she really had. For a long time, after he had left, she had been numb, isolating herself from those around her, carrying out her day-to-day life with cold detachment. She had barely seen anyone for weeks, turning down invites, avoiding their visits, overloading herself with work.
For a few short happy months after her and Clark had finally got together, something had begun to develop; a family, a community, of everyone involved in the Justice League; working together and supporting each other as only they knew how to. Ollie, Dinah, Victor, AC, Chloe, Bart, even Zatanna joined after a while, followed by Bruce and Diana from across the country. It had been stupidly, naively perfect – it had just felt right– whenever they were together the same surprised satisfaction was echoed on every face; no one thought they could have it that good.
But they were right; they couldn't. Once Clark left, so too did Lois, and with them went the heart and soul. So Bruce fled back to Gotham, Diana to New York and the others had lain low together but not as one; nursing their disillusionment with vain attempts to salvage what they had been clinging to; their pathetically prized idea of a decent social life.
Social life? She was being harsh there. It was more a way of life; a way of living with so much love and warmth and laughter surrounding you no matter how dangerous the situation. It was living with the people who understood you, understood why things had to be how they were; sacrifices were made at the blink of an eye, comfort given with a touch of a hand…
Lois opened her door slowly, and gave a shout of delight as she saw Oliver on the other side, Dinah and AC stood at each of his sides both grinning, and lunged at him, throwing her arms around him in a suffocating hug.
"Easy Lois!" He wheezed, half-choked. "No offence but I'd be kind of annoyed if, having survived 6 different explosions, 10 bullets to the head and defied gravity in the arms of your boyfriend, I was killed through asphyxiation by you!" Lois gave him one last bone-crunching squeeze before letting go and punching him the arm.
"Shut it Ollie – don't act like you're not pleased I care that you're alive!"
He smirked, before stepping past her into the flat and leaving her to greet AC and then Dinah, who gave her a long-suffering look that she returned with an eye roll before turning round back to Ollie.
"So… where is my gravity defying boyfriend?" She asked, concern weighing down the lightness she had tried to inflect in her voice.
Ollie didn't turn around for a moment; he was gazing out of the window, the pale light of the moon emphasising the darkness of his outline. No-body spoke. Finally he faced her, his face solemn.
"He's still out there. I'm sorry Lois. I'm sure he'll be back soon."
She nodded, drawing in a deep breath, before stretching a strained smile across her face.
"Yeah, we know he'll pull off the impossible – he always does." Dinah added, moving to place an arm round Lois' shoulders. She immediately shrugged it off, not unkindly but dismissively all the same; she was as strong as the rest of them, as long he loved her, she could do it.
"Ok." Taking another deep breath, she strode over to the kitchen cabinets. "Ok." She said again. "So who wants tea?"
Nothing in particular was said but the atmosphere changed; they all congregated in the kitchen area, passing out mugs, reaching for tea bags, laughing as AC guzzled litres of water and confused the salt with the sugar.
Soon they were sat around the kitchen table, lazily munching on a pack of brownies and sipping tea while exchanging snide remarks about each other's costumes and the amount of bathroom stops AC had made. Lois looked around at them in wonder; would she have ever dreamt that she could be so near content, not only with two ex-boyfriends and a former enemy, but while Clark was out, possibly on the edge of death?
With that thought, her terror that she had been distracting herself all evening from flooded her mind and she began to shake, feeling sobs rising.
At once Dinah had placed her arm around her - this time Lois was oblivious to her pride- while Ollie and AC gently held her hands from across the table, stroking them softly as she let her fears pour out. They sat their together, and still the atmosphere remained the same: non-judgemental, open and most all safe.
After a while Lois raised her head and gave a weak smile, her eyes red and cheeks flushed.
"Thanks guys…I- it means a lot." She whispered, looking at each one in turn all who returned her words with a slight nod.
"No more than what you do for us." AC said seriously.
"What I do?! I don't do anything. I just… make tea." She gestured tiredly at the empty mugs on the table, before looping her fingers through their handles to carry them and stood up to walk over to the sink. "Clark's the hero. Clark's the one you need. He's the one-" Her voice caught and the mugs clanged loudly as they fell into the sink, her hands having let them go to support her head as she bent over. "He's the one I need…" She finished in a whisper.
Suddenly she felt a cool, light breeze on her back and shivered.
"Could one of you shut the window… please? I don't- it's just… too cold." She said, still fiddling with the mugs in the sink; truthfully she didn't want to turn around and meet the sympathy in their eyes; see the doubts that were taking hold within her own mind – would he be back?
No-one replied and, with a sigh, she turned her head to look back over her shoulder at them intending to force a light-hearted remark about their ridiculous brownie consumption, but instead stopped. They were sitting gazing at her balcony; looks of joy mixed with disbelief were on each. She snapped her head round to where they were looking.
He stood there with his arms crossed, eyes focused on her, tall and resplendent in his costume, the cape fluttering majestically behind him. With a gasp, she dropped a mug that she still held in her hand, leaving it to crash to the floor as she ran to him. He immediately opened his arms and she collapsed against him, her arms tight around him.
She could feel him shaking; she was shaking too. He was stroking her hair and whispering – whispering of what he had seen, of who he hadn't saved, of how much he loved her, of why he should be with her forever and always. She just laughed through her tears, tickling his neck till a small chuckle was coaxed out.
They were together again and that was all that mattered.
Resilience had been her best friend back then; they had just kept going and going. There were breakdowns, times when the dark threatened to eclipse even the brightest of blue, but they passed and they came through them stronger. And she knew she could have kept on going, kept on for eternity.
Then every day had been a miracle; every morning, no matter how late or tiring the night before, was bright with the knowledge that she would see him soon, knowing he would bound up to her with a massive grin, or cover her eyes teasingly before greeting her with a kiss or a coffee, or a small, sad smile when things got too much.
Now she woke to the mockingly blinking lights of her alarm and the suffocating gloom of her darkened room - it felt like she lived in the twilight now, always awakening before the dawn. Though her hall where she now stood wasn't dark, it still carried the same overpowering sense of blindness; humid and sticky she felt like she couldn't breathe and her eyes once again fell shut as she sucked in another long breath.
He should be here now, she thought – he should be with me. But he wasn't. He had been there so many other times, every other time when it had mattered. But not now.
Her eyes flickered open again, and lighted upon a mark just above the picture; the whole wall was bare save for those two solitary features, one above the other. They had one thing in common; a link to a certain plaid wearing, farm boy with a deceivingly adorable smile and an uncanny ability to twist hearts round his little finger.
There was a story behind it – that mark - of course there was. She didn't want to remember it, but that was the very reason she had never got it fixed – so that whenever she looked at it she would be delightfully transported back to when it had transpired. However that had been when she could turn around and playfully re-enact the situation with her boyfriend – because that's what he had been: hers – laughingly mocking their sentimental outpourings; so comfortable had they become with the truths they had expressed for the first time that night.
But now she was wrenched reluctantly into her memories; knowing that no matter how happy it was, when she finally came back to reality it would be all the more painful. But for the third time this night, the heat seemed to overpower her better judgement and she fell headfirst into the memory.
Lois ran up the stairs, her feet pounding into each step, heart thumping. She could hear him behind her but she didn't care; she just needed to reach her flat, get in and lock the door; then it would be okay.
With a cry of relief she realised she had reached her floor and ran desperately through the doorway beside the stairs and down the long corridor to her flat, whipping her head back to check she was still alone. She heard the door to the stairwell clang shut as she ran and knew it was only a matter of time before he caught up.
Swallowing, she forced her shaking hands to root though her bag, searching for her keys. "Crap, crap, crap" she cursed; she simply could not find them – did she even have them? Suddenly she heard the door at the end of the passage bang open a second time and her chest tightened in panic; he could see her, she had only seconds.
A sob of desperation escaped her lips as she continued to fumble within her bag, despite knowing it was a lost cause; she must have dropped her keys while trying to escape from him. Then she heard a laugh.
Her whole body froze – the game was up. With an almost resigned sigh, she turned to face him. The building was silent and she, quite oddly, wondered where everyone was, hoping they would stay wisely inside and not come out to check she was okay or more likely, out of pure nosiness; she had no way of telling what he would do to them - the only reason she could guess at as to why she had survived for so long was that he got some perverse pleasure out of hunting her down.
"Looking for something?" He smirked and brought up one of his hands to reveal her keys, dangling tauntingly off them. She took a step forward, bravely trying to hide the trembling in her hands.
"Very impressive - you managed to swipe my keys; my one year old niece could do better." She said, attempting to inject some kind of fierceness into her words, but knowing she was fooling no one.
"Oh I could do much, much more Miss Lane." He growled, showing his yellow teeth clenched tightly together. "And I think I just got an open invitation to prove it."
Way to go Lois, she thought, get him angry, that's really the way to get out of this alive.
"W-wait a minute." She said, letting go of her bag to hold her hands up in front of her. "I don't want anything proved, especially not an ability to break my neck… Look - what do you want? Me to pull my story? Because I'll totally do it." She had meant for it to sound sincere but her undeniable pride in uncovering the truth and bringing people to justice inflected it with a just-about noticeable hint of sarcasm.
He snorted: "As if lady. I know you; you're Lois Lane. Mad dog Lane they call you if I'm correct." He began to walk forward, bouncing up onto his toes as he stepped – yeah he was enjoying this. "You never let a story go, even if it's at… personal cost." The last bit was a threat – it was all a threat – but she couldn't help lifting her head in pride; he was right, she would never let it go.
"That's because I have these little things; they're called morals. I'd never let an evil slime-bag like you to continue to take advantage of desperate teenage girls looking for some kind of under-the-radar instant abortion. I don't know how you do it… but I know you're behind it; I've got the evidence. And even if you…hurt me or k-kill me it won't make any different because my- my colleague – he's got it too, and he'll make sure you get brought to justice."
She immediately thought of Clark; he was waiting for her at the Planet. Would she be back? What would he do if she never was? God- she might never see him again… Oh Clark.
At once a blistering pain burst out in her chest and stomach; with a scream, she doubled over, and fell to her knees. Tears burned her eyes, scalding her vision to a blur. She felt his footsteps approach with small jerky taps; oh he was enjoying this alright.
"Little girl. Brave girl. You can't beat me." He laughed. "I'm gifted; I destroy things you see – curse very atoms into inexistence." He was winding his torment down, bringing it to a close with a final theatrical flourish; she could sense it from the stillness of his once tapping feet; the same stillness that was soon to overcome her currently beating heart. She gulped.
"And now I'm going to destroy you and your 'colleague.' – internal organ by internal organ." He continued, "You die tonight Lois Lane."
The pain intensified; she could no longer maintain any kind of control over her body and collapsed completely on the floor, her limbs jerking with infrequent spasms. Then she heard, faintly, high above her, someone speak: it was a familiar voice that seemed somehow new and despite being still racked with pain, its inhumane coldness resonated inside her.
"Stop it. Whatever you are doing – stop. Stop now." It demanded, low threatening leaving no room for bargaining. But the pain inside her only intensified; a gasp escaped her lips.
"Well now, what an interesting development. Trying to be a hero are we? What – do you love her?" Her tormenter snickered and she immediately wanted to lash out her foot at his shin but she couldn't move. "Sorry but she's already dead…or at-least minutes away – I've fried her from the inside out." He sounded almost proud, and her stomach turned. "Even if you get past me, you wouldn't be able to save her. But you won't because I'm gonna have to put you down too."
Achingly, she raised her head off the floor, her hair half-blinding her and sticking to her damp, sweat covered forehead; all she could see was two blurred figures, one with their arm outstretched the other motionless. Was he going to kill him too? But then she saw him retract his arm sharply, as if in pain or shock.
"What?! Why isn't it working?!" He shouted angrily, and once again pointed viciously with his arm at the other, but nothing happened. He stumbled back slightly, in seeming disbelief, looking up at the man opposite him. She couldn't read the expression on his face, so hazy was her vision, but it seemed evident he was afraid or confused. "Why won't it work on you!?"
But the other man did not answer but instead reached across, and with a flick of his wrist, sent him flying across the hallway with a sickening crash. The pain immediately receded and she found herself once able to breathe. Concentrating on slow, deep breaths, she pushed herself up so she was leaning against the wall outside her flat; her eyes closed and head slumped back while frenzied thoughts whirled around her head.
Had that been him- the Blur? Would he stay? Would they speak, have one of their rare conversations that always left her wanting more? It seemed like he was always saving her, always there, a safe constant that she could daydream of separate from the dreams of her nights - with their flashes of blue eyes and red blankets and strong arms wrapped tight around her; scary and unsettling. He was an image, an idea, a blur of all she thought wanted, that she could cling to when her true desires threatened to tear her heart apart once again.
"Lois?"
Suddenly a newer voice enveloped her in a blanket of warmth: it was Clark, just this once, it was him. She smiled, eyes still closed – maybe this was one of her dreams - as long as he was there and unhurt it was okay.
"Clark…" She whispered, only just about able to speak.
"Sssh." She felt a hand gently brush the hair from her eyes and stroke her cheek; it was shaking. She blinked her eyes open and met his; blue and fearful they gazed at her, and she thought she saw un-shed tears glistening within them and herself reflected in them; he was crying for her.
"You're shaking…" She whispered. She slowly brought her hand up to his on her cheek and stroked it with her thumb; she always knew it would feel as it did then, soft and warm. "You're not… the one… who got microwaved…"
He laughed, or at-least tried to; it came out as a sob. And then another came, and another and he was full out crying, shaking against her as he stroked her hair and face over and over again. His arms wrapped themselves around her and he brought her head to his neck, leaning his on top of it. But it wasn't a dream.
Gently, he looped an arm under her knees, leaving his other round her waist, and stood up to carry her in. She tried to lift her head up, to whisper to him that she had no keys; they couldn't get in. But he simply turned the door handle and it opened and she didn't stop to wonder how.
Once inside the hall, he placed her down again on the floor, whispering reassurances, before disappearing into her bedroom to and returning with pillows that he set up against the wall and propped her against, and a duvet, which he covered her with. He then sat down, also leaning on the cushions and pulled the cover over him too. She let her head fall heavily against his neck, no questions asked.
"Why aren't… you taking me to…hospital?" She murmured. He stiffened, then moved his arm around her once more.
"You don't know how much I want to." He said at once, with rushed emotion, almost as if to himself. "But I can't risk it; those other girls – they died after they got treated in hospital. But Chloe's coming. And she has the cure, we think – he's got a meteor power; Chloe figured it out."
She pulled the duvet so it covered her up to her shoulders and she snuggled against Clark – the pain hadn't gone but as long as Clark was there she felt like she could deal with it.
"Right. Clark… back there – was it the Blur? Did you see him?" The intensity of her words was muted by her exhaustion, but she knew he understood; sitting here with him, like this, she needed to pull herself back from him, use the Blur to be her barricade.
"I-I don't know Lois. Maybe. To be honest, I was only concentrating on making sure you were alive." He didn't sound angry, just weighed down with weary resignation.
She nodded against his chest; too tired to question him further.
"But…" There was something he hadn't told her. "Lois…I-we still don't know if-" She lifted her head off him so she could see his face; tears were rolling down it. He clasped her tighter.
"Lois, we don't know if it, this cure, going to work; like he said, your internal organs have had serious damage and if left untreated you're going to-"
"Die." She finished. But then she shook her head. "Don't worry Clark – I'm not going anywhere." She grinned. "At-least while you're around to pick-on."
Her hallway was dark save for a strip of moonlight coming from the kitchen window that fell onto the wall opposite them. Clark reached under the cover and found her hands and lifted them up so they were in front of both their faces.
Gently he fitted his around them and moulded them into a shape, intercepting the shaft of moonlight. Lois looked up at the wall opposite and smiled; he had made their hands into a bird, which he then swooped about the wall. And at once any flight she had experienced with the Blur paled in comparison. He then brought their fingertips together on each hand in a cone shape so there were two deer, nose to nose.
"You're such a dork Smallville." She chucked, enjoying the feel of his hands on hers.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
They sat there for a moment in silence when Clark uneasily broke it, pulling his hands away and lifting the duvet.
"I'll just go make us some hot chocolate while we wait for Chloe." He said shakily, well aware the danger wasn't over.
"Sure." Lois said, and pushed herself up, reaching out a hand to Clark for him to pull her to standing. "I feel fine now actually." And she really did, the pain seemed to have almost disappeared. He peered at her carefully.
"You sure?" She nodded, then stepped past him to the kitchen. He at once put a hand on her waist as if to steady her and she shot at him a look over her shoulder. He grinned sheepishly and removed his hand; she would have preferred it if he hadn't; it was the delicate handling she objected to, not the handling itself. But she could feel the ghost of his touch still.
Looking forward to a warm cup of hot chocolate, she stepped into the kitchen then turned to face him – a question on the tip of her tongue.
"Clark wha- Aaaaah!" Suddenly it was as if her middle was being burned; she collapsed the floor, the agony from before returning with a vengeance. She screamed again, clutching her side. Clark knelt down beside her immediately, stroking her face, her stomach – anywhere that seemed affected – but it did nothing. She writhed on the floor, drawing gasps as fresh waves of pain rolled over her.
"C-Clark!" She gasped, and grabbed his hand; digging her nails into it to somehow deal with the pain. He propped her up against his chest, wrapping his arms around her.
"Lois. Lois can you hear me?" He said, his teeth gritted to stop him losing control. She managed to nod, despite the agony that was racking her body. "Lois? What can I do? Is there anything you need? Water?"
"N-no." She breathed, just about gathering enough energy to shake her head. "Just stay…" Please, this one time, be there for me Clark as much as you really can, she thought desperately, be there – don't be scared, don't pull back.
"Always." He said fiercely; his conviction reflected in his unblinking blue eyes.
"Aaaaaahh!" She jerked violently, arching her back in pain; his fingers found their way to her middle, massaging it, trying in anyway to help her, as she thumped back into his chest.
"Ssssh. It's okay, it's okay," He murmured, desperately trying to reach through to her, his voice only reaching the edge of her consciousness. He sighed deeply, and placed his head on her shoulder so he could whisper into her ear. "Just keep breathing; listen to my voice ok? You can get through this Lois, you have to." His voice cracked. "Who-else will there be to steal my coffee?"
She laughed shakily, in between gasps, and could feel his chest heaving now too, wracked with pain of another kind.
"I don't know- we don't know what's going to happen. You won't die. You won't – I won't let it happen… I need you Lois. Please hold on – you'll be okay."
She moaned again, and he flinched, before stiffening; trying to be strong for her. Despite the pain, she was listening intently: utterly focused on his voice, his words. She could feel herself loosing strength, her reactions and jerks growing weaker and weaker as she felt the world around her slip away.
"Lois. Lois!" He shook her desperately; she moaned quietly, her eyes falling shut, her body limp against him. "Stay with me, stay with me. God Chloe where are you?! Lois, can you hear me?"
She nodded her head almost imperceptibly.
"Okay – just listen to me. I- I know this is selfish, and stupid and I- I just need you to hear this." He drew a deep breath, held her tighter in an attempt to stem the trembling that had crept over her and leant down further to whisper softly into her ear, " I love you Lois – not as a brother, not just as a friend; I love you… like how my Dad loved my Mom. I just- needed you to know."
For a moment her heart stopped, and she wondered whether she had died, but then another wave of pain shocked her heart into beating once again, but this time with a vigour that she had never felt before; Clark loved her.
The Blur was now just that; a blur in her mind that grew ever dimmer as she felt her long repressed feelings burst out, overpowering any other sensation. Clark loved her… and she loved him.
She twisted her head achingly round up to his and murmured, barely aware if sound was coming from her mouth, "I love you, Clark, I love you… always." Her eyes closed and she leaned in, meeting his mouth with hers; kissing him with all the life she had left in her.
At that moment the door burst open revealing a wide-eyed Chloe, waving a syringe in her hand, who for a moment stood frozen; shocked at the sight of Clark and Lois who were sat entwined with each other on the floor, engaged in a passionate kiss that left her breathless just from being an observer.
But then she remembered the medicine in her hand and coughed loudly. Clark pulled away from Lois, looking blearily around before alighting on Chloe; all of a sudden his face lit up in hope and apprehension.
"Do you have the cure?!" He asked, rising to his feet and pulling Lois along with him, who was white and unsteady; clinging to Clark as her legs shook violently.
"Yes – here. Use it quick." She shoved it into his hands and he turned immediately, opening it up.
"Lois, give me your wrist."
She looked up at him with wide, frightened eyes but did as he said; he paused for a moment, looking at her, wanting to reassure her in some way, but then re-focused on the task at hand, and took a deep breath before plunging the needle into her arm. She flinched slightly and then collapsed against him. He grabbed her then looked up at Chloe, panic in his eyes.
"Chloe!?"
She bit her lip: "I think it's ok, Clark; I think this meant to happen."
Moments passed and his grip grew tighter and tighter; she didn't seem to be stirring. He brushed hair from her eyes. Suddenly her body went completely lax and fell out of his arms to the floor.
"Lois!?" He screamed. But she lay there at his feet; he was frozen, he couldn't move to touch her, just gaze in horror. With a yell he turned and punched the wall, his fist going right through it, and its surface splintered beneath the force.
"CLARK!" Chloe shouted in alarm. But her attention was immediately diverted as she heard a sound on the floor; Lois was slowly awakening.
She smiled "See Clark – she's coming to." Clark glanced down too and saw Lois blinking her eyes open, a look of clarity again present. At once he knelt down and grabbed her waist, pulling her to standing. She straightened up shakily, still leaning against Clark and looked at both of them in turn, holding his gaze a little longer before glancing awkwardly down.
"Thanks guys… I guess I would be crossing the Styx right about now if you hadn't saved my life. Look I'm so sorry." She shook her head, sadly. "I should never have put you guys in that position."
Clark at once shook his head all while still keeping a hold on her, his eyes not leaving her face; fearful she could collapse again at any minute. "No, you were doing what is right; without you teenage girls all around Metropolis would still be in danger; you're a heroine Lois!"
She looked at him for a moment then sighed, and rubbed her forehead and said, half-mumbling, "So says the man who just saved my life." then snapped her head back up, "Well I think I'm just going to chill here; feeling a little tired for some reason." She gave a weak laugh.
"Sure Lois. Call me if you need me." Chloe said gently, and retreated out the door, staring slightly wonderingly at the two left, side by side, almost unconsciously held tight to one another.
"I will. Night." Lois called after her, and then turned to look at Clark; the air hummed with a new tension and she swallowed nervously – what happened those few minutes before Chloe had arrived? He was looking at his feet, fiddling with his hands and the awkwardness of the image made Lois laugh despite her nerves; his head shot up.
"What?"
"N-nothing." The awkwardness immediately returned and her smile faltered. He narrowed his eyes slightly, and looked at her; she didn't look away. The lights in the flat remained off but it seemed as if his gaze had lit all of her with a warm glow. But she had no idea where they stood now; she cleared her throat nervously and then bit her lip.
"Erm, Clark, about… before - was that just because I was dying or, or d-did you… do you…?" She began, tailing off as her courage to voice what had been said before faded, standing the silent hall; the danger of before having passed.
"Do I love you?" He asked bluntly, in contrast to the fear and pain she could see swirling in his eyes; his hands deep inside his pockets, and brows set in their slanted despondency. "Yeah. Yeah I did; I do."
He sighed heavily.
"So I guess you know now," he continued with a soft, sad laugh. "You know I never thought I'd tell you; I always thought I'd get over it or you'd leave Metropolis, leave me, and I'd just… pine away in the distance. But I never did and you never did… Who'd have thought it? Clark Kent hopelessly in love with Lois Lane."
He sighed again, this time with a strain; as if he could feel his heart breaking as he spoke. "And I think that, no I know that maybe once I might have had a chance … and we could have been amazing together." He sounded almost reverent of this relationship that never happened. "But… I was an idiot, and I know you've got 'the Blur' now and any chance I ever had is gone. And I'm sorry for putting you in that position – I never should have told you like that, you were dying…"
She didn't say anything; what was he trying to say? Why was he pushing her away like this, ignoring what she had said before? Did he not understand she loved him too, that she would do anything for him, that she lived for him and him alone?
"I'll just go now, ok? See you tomorrow." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes, merely an insincere curve of his lips and then stepped round her to leave. But Lois cut him off, stepping between him and the door.
"No need to go just yet, Smallville." She gently placed both hands on his cheeks then lifted her head and pressed her lips to his, kissing him, loving him. She felt him sigh against her lips, and then kiss her in return as if all his doubts had been stripped away. Breathlessly she pulled back, her eyes sparkling.
"I love you, Clark." She said; his face froze in shock, and then lit up in disbelieving joy. "And you'd think, given the fact those could have been my dying words, you'd have been listening harder when I said them before." She laughed, but his expression grew graver.
"Don't laugh Lois – I thought you were going to die…" He closed his eyes as if it pained him to just to remember.
"Hey," she said, lifting his chin so he was on her eye-line. "I'm here now, aren't I? And I love you – what more could a guy want?"
He smiled reluctantly, and pulled his hands out of their pockets to push her hair back from her face; "So you do? You really love me? What about the Blur?"
She rolled her eyes: "What about him?" and turned away to shut the door.
"So wait – you love me!" He said happily behind her, and slipped his arms around her waist. "Lois Lane loves me." He again mumbled into her hair.
"Oh get over yourself," she said teasingly, "You love me."
He spun her round, keeping his arms around her, and smiled: "More than anything on Earth", then paused and frowned, "Actually, and the universe."
She raised an eyebrow, but couldn't fight the beaming grin off her face: "If you say so Smallville."
He smirked back at her: "I do."
"Jumping the gun a little there – don't you think we oughta date first before we say our vows?" She teased, playing with a lock of hair that had fallen on his forehead.
"Saturday night, 7 o'clock sound good to you?" He said smoothly.
"Pick me up at 8."
"Great."
"Excellent."
They stood for a moment grinning, still holding each other in the dark of the hallway, then at once both lunged for the other's mouth, meeting in a kiss as their lips crashed together. Clark backed up against the wall, his head connecting with it as she forcefully leant into him, her waist soft beneath his hands and her mouth pressed hard into his. Suddenly she broke away, looking behind him confused.
"Erm Clark – doesn't your head hurt?"
"What?" He blinked, still dazed from the kiss. Then turned his head and saw the sizeable indent on the wall. "Uh. No, no my head's fine."
"You sure? Because that's a whopping great hole in my wall which, don't get me wrong, is more than compensated for by your amazing kissing skills… but your head can't be 'fine'."
"Well Lois… I kinda punched it earlier. Sorry?" He looked adorably sheepish.
"Woah Smallville – that's like brick and cement! How the hell did you punch through that? Please tell me I did not just profess my love to the Hulk."
He looked conflicted, glancing hopelessly at his hands, but then his gaze flickered to her and it cleared at once; he had made his decision. "Lois… there's something I need to tell you…"
He had told her there and then, and it hadn't mattered –his secret- not one bit. It didn't change the way that she felt about him. She had needed time, of course, to process the new light which all those times she had been saved, and all those weird things she just accepted about him were shed in; she had bided her time; never pushed him to explain. And it had it only made her love him more.
That night had been… amazing – the first of many amazing nights. She remembered the intense joy of that first discovery of their mutual feelings with painful clarity; standing here in the same spot, but without him, felt like an insult to the memory. He had just smiled, and laughed and they had talked and talked, just revelling in the ease in which they could lay a hand on the other without a reproachful flinch, or lay a small kiss in their hair, and be pulled in for one on the lips.
She hugged her arms around her; it wasn't enough, but if she closed her eyes and concentrated really hard she could imagine it was him, come back to her, telling her he would keep her safe for always.
She remembered so many times, when he had done so; wrapped her in his arms and taken her from the world's problems; told her everything would be okay, and it always was because he was there.
She heard a knock at the door, jerking her back to reality, and irrationally her heart leapt; but it couldn't be him – he knew he never had to knock. But even so, a ray of hope snuck into her thoughts and she walked slowly to the door, struggling to keep her breaths even, trying to tell herself it wasn't him, wouldn't be him. Her hand on the handle, she tentatively pushed it down then swung it open; it wasn't him.
Instead there stood a teenage girl, obnoxiously smacking gum around her mouth with a hand on her hips. Lois felt anger flare up inside of her.
"Excuse me, does Morgan live here?" The girl looked hopefully behind her, her eyes lighting up as she spoke the boy's name.
"Well considering I have no idea who the hell Morgan is, I'd say no." Lois snapped.
"He's my boyfriend. Dark hair with blue eyes - reaaally cute. We just got together last week." The girl grinned happily; clearly pleased for any opportunity in which she could share her good news.
"Well good for you." Lois gave a sarcastic smile, and then slammed the door in the shocked teen's face; she just couldn't bare hearing about what she didn't have. But immediately she felt awful and with a sigh, guiltily re-opened the door to see the girl hurrying further down the corridor.
"Hey!" Lois shouted. The girl paused and turned her head fearfully. " Look- don't take him for granted – treasure every moment with this Morgan guy okay?"
The girl looked even more scared but nodded.
"It's just, I had what you have now, and now I don't and let's just say 'missing' him doesn't even come close." Lois smiled sadly. The teen nodded again and waved with a small smile, before continuing on her search. Lois again closed the door, this time with a soft click and a soft sigh. She remembered another time when she had opened that door to an unexpected visitor but then it had been to her extreme joy.
It had been Martha standing there before her, arms wide open and her face lit up at seeing the daughter she had always wanted standing before her looking so happy and so radiant.
It hadn't been something she'd really thought about – how anyone other than Clark would react to discovering her feelings for him – but when she finally considered it, it had been Martha's thoughts she most wanted to hear and at the same time dreaded. What if she didn't think she was good enough for Clark? What if, having seen them bickering for so long, she didn't think they would last?
She had wondered whether Martha would go back over old situations, what she would think, realise; times when she had caught her and Clark in the bathroom, or fallen asleep on the couch together, or simply sharing a glance; she had probably known the whole time.
But from the moment she had opened that door, the knowing smile, the tight, heartfelt embrace, the warmth and joy in her voice as she spoke of Clark had told her all she needed to know.
"Knock. Knock"
Someone was at the door. Lois suppressed a groan of annoyance; she had just been struggling to clean the back of oven; her hair was messed up and face covered with black grime.
"Hang on! I'll be there in a second." With a grunt, she shoved her head out of the oven, slammed the door and pulled off her cleaning gloves, before rushing over and opening the door without looking; her other hand wrestling with undoing her apron.
"Sorry I was just cleaning the oven-" She mumbled still focused on untying the tight knot that had formed in the apron strings.
"Lois Lane cleaning the oven? There's a sentence I never thought I'd hear." She heard a voice, one so familiar and comfortable that she immediately relaxed upon hearing it. Apron forgotten, she looked up.
"Mrs Kent!" She grinned widely and walked into her open arms for a hug. "Oh my God! Well if I knew you were coming I would have cleaned the whole kitchen."
"It's alright Lois, I don't need a clean kitchen, just your company. And it's Martha." Martha laughed, releasing her from the hug, and stepping back to look her over. "You look great Lois; stunning actually. I love your hair."
"You do too, Martha. Sorry, come in – do you want some tea or coffee?" She walked into the kitchen, calling over her shoulder.
"Tea would be great. I'm guessing you haven't made any headway on giving coffee up yet." Martha said behind her, who had followed slowly behind taking in the flat and its furnishings; the many photos that were propped up in photo frames across the room, most containing Clark.
"Actually, thanks to certain influences, I'm getting there." She said, reaching for mugs and tea bags, while filling the kettle.
"And would one of those influences be my son?" Martha laughed. In front of her Lois froze, and turned to face her slowly, a hesitant smile on her lips.
"Y-yeah, yeah it would be." She smiled shyly and bit her lip, her hands knotting together slightly. "You have heard, haven't you… that-"
"That you and Clark are together?" Martha laughed again, and then nodded. "Yes Lois I have heard."
"I did mean to call you, it's just, you know it's been crazy lately and-"
"Lois!" She stepped forward again and reached for the younger girl's hands. "It's fine. Clark explained. And I was far too happy with the news to care about how or when I was told."
Lois grinned, a previously unknown fear put at rest: "You were?"
Martha chuckled with a slight shake of her head: "My only concern was why it took so long."
Lois widened her eyes in surprise: "So long?"
"You love him." She said it as fact, lightly, almost teasingly; her ever-gentle tact aware that hearing this aloud would be a new concept for Lois, no doubt having bottled it up inside of her for so long.
There was a slight blush to Lois' cheeks but she gave a firm nod and a simple "Yes." Behind her, the kettle came to boil and she turned, taking her hands from Martha's, to pour the boiling water into the teapot.
"But how long do you think you've loved him?" Martha asked gently. Lois continued carefully pouring the water into the teapot, before turning slowly round, frowning in contemplation.
"I know when I realised how I felt but - I guess… I've loved him in, some way, as long as-"
"- as long as you've known him." Martha finished, with a knowing smile. "And I'm more than sure that that's the same for Clark."
Once again, Lois raised her eyebrows in surprise: "Really? I would have thought, because of Lana-"
Martha shook her head. "Love is complicated, I'm sure you know that; Clark did love Lana – yes, but I know he loved you too, on some level, just differently, unconsciously." She sighed, and gave a wry smile. "You two may have seemed to not have been able to get on at all but… well I've often found that love can be strangely easy to mistake for loathing."
Lois looked down quickly, smiling in spite of herself. Raising her head back up, she shook her head in wonder. "All those times when I felt like Clark- like he was the only one I could talk to, or the only person who I ever wanted to… annoy, or make laugh, or smile; the only person whose emotions felt like…" She tailed off shyly as if realising how much she had given away, but then glanced again at Martha's understanding smile. "Whose emotions felt like my own… I guess that was always me loving him but I don't know what I thought it was at the time – I guess I just didn't think, huh?"
She shrugged with a hint of bitterness, then turned back to the tea and poured two cups, before walking round and setting them down on the table. They both sat down leisurely, Lois eagerly reached for her mug and took a long drink as if grateful for a distraction from spilling all, though with Martha it wouldn't be long before it all tumbled out.
"Maybe that's just it," Martha said, following a long gulp of her own. "Love shouldn't have to be thought through – it's innate. Just like how Clark trusted you completely when you found him that first time."
"I don't think I gave him a choice!" Lois laughed.
"That may be so," Martha chuckled, "You weren't ever one who would take no for an answer, and still aren't." Lois opened her mouth to protest but Martha waved a hand to stop her. "Lois, don't worry - that's just you; it's what made you such a great campaign manager, Chief of Staff, journalist… friend. Anyway you've matured so much since you first came into our lives, into such an amazing, strong woman. I'm proud of you, I really am. And I know Jonathan would have been too."
"He would?" Lois asked quietly. She lowered her mug to the table, unclasped her hands from around it and instead reached across the table for Martha's. "Thank you… that means so much. I really don't know how I got lucky enough to meet your family, but thank God I did; I don't know where I'd be without you."
"Oh I don't know – you would have followed a different path perhaps, but I'm sure it would have been a fulfilled and successful one all the same." Martha smiled. Lois leaned back in her chair and pulled her hands away from Martha's to take another sip of tea, with a curious smile on her face.
"So… all those conversations about my failure of a love life, the right guy being right in front of me, and finding 'my Jonathan' – were they all about Clark?"
"I wouldn't say they were about him, Lois; they were about you." Martha began. "I may have had a feeling that you and my son meant more to each other than both of you realised," She gave sly smile then continued. "But ultimately I want you to be happy and find the right person who will help make you so… whether or not he's Clark."
"Martha." Lois began seriously. "I can't imagine ever being happy with anyone who wasn't-" Suddenly the door banged open; Clark stood there, a shopping bag clutched tightly in his right hand and a proud expression on his face as he grinned at Lois, presumably not having noticed his Mother's presence.
"Speak of the devil." Lois muttered across the table, though barely concentrating on anything other than him as she got up to walk over to where he stood, a bounce in her step.
"What did ya get?" She said eagerly reaching for the shopping bag, all while keep her eyes directly connected to his.
"Carrots. Celery. A radish or two." He teased, holding it out of her reach.
"Funny farm boy – you invite Bugs Bunny round for dinner?"
"Well, after all the fuss we had with Roadrunner I thought maybe it would be just us tonight, sans cartoon characters."
"And I was so looking forward to dining with Snoopy."
"You know, I do still have those boxers…" He smirked; Lois grinned back and leaned to kiss him on the lips, which he readily reciprocated. Martha watched the exchange with amusement as she sat waiting patiently for the couple to realise she was in the room. Thankfully the kiss ended soon enough for her to refrain from coughing as Clark broke away to open up the shopping bag.
"Seriously – I've got ice cream…" He pulled a tub from the bag, which Lois accepted with a squeak of excitement and another peck on the lips.
"Lucky Charms…" He extracted a large box of cereal and watched with clear delight as Lois beamed and grabbed the box from his hands to hug to her chest. "You know, if this is what makes you happy, I might as well buy a share in General Mills Food with amount I'm planning on buying."
"What can I say, I have simply tastes." She said sarcastically, looking him up and down with a meaningful raise of her eyebrows. "But don't worry – all I need for eternal euphoria is you by my side 24/7."
"Well that's alright then because I can't say I'd mind spending the rest of my life with you too." Clark joked back, though both knew the significant amount of truth that lay under the surface of both light-hearted remarks.
Their faces were almost touching and neither moved, both wearing those special, secret smiles that they had only for each other. They stood completely still for another moment, before Martha decided that as much as she enjoyed watching them so happy, her interruption was simply going to get more awkward by delay.
"Hello Clark." She called from the table. He jerked back from Lois and whirled around, before turning back to the room and catching sight of his Mother sat at the table, looking suitably indignant.
"Mom!! I didn't know- I'm sorry, why didn't you call to say you were visiting?" He looked flustered, but the little-boy blush that might have once spread embarrassingly across his face did not appear and his hand found Lois'.
"I wanted to surprise Lois, and given how close you two are these days," she nodded at their joined hands with a smile, "I didn't trust you not to spill."
"Good call," Lois chipped in, nudging Clark with her hip. "I probably would have got it out of him within a minute of you phoning."
Clark looked at her indignantly: "No you wouldn't!"
Lois snorted, and raised her eyebrows yet again.
"Ok, ok, maybe you would… but more like an hour." He admitted reluctantly.
"Fifteen minutes."
"Thirty."
"Twenty."
"Deal."
"You two really haven't changed that much, have you?" Martha laughed with a shake of her head. "Well, if you kids don't mind, I'll be cooking dinner tonight as it doesn't seem like either of you have been eating particularly well since I've been away."
Lois looked ecstatic and bounded over to the kitchen area, pulling Clark along by the hand. "Oh we don't mind at all!"
They all congregated in the tiny kitchen while Martha cooked and Lois and Clark attempted to help; Lois smudging Clark's cheeks with flour and mussing up his black hair with powdery, white streaks while he sneakily flicked peas he was supposed to be shelling at her until one hit Martha and he was firmly sent to lay the table.
Glancing at Clark as he fiddled with the knives and forks, and Martha busily measuring out flour beside her, Lois knew if she ever had a family, a real one that you could depend on, with it was them.
Martha had called several times since he'd gone but it was impossible for Lois to talk to her for long; she couldn't stand listening as the strongest woman she knew broke down too, as she stood listening on the other end of the phone, helplessly knowing she had no strength with which to comfort her; she couldn't bare the fact that everyone around her was hurting too and she could do nothing to help.
Instead she sat in, night after night, waiting; hoping that maybe, just maybe tonight would be the night he came back; came back to her. But he never did. And the door stayed closed, the balcony empty and the bed cold.
Now the weather had turned and heat trickled in through any gap, under the heavy curtains that smothered the suns burning light; Lois never bothered to open them in the morning – what did the sun mean if she couldn't see his face?
The balcony, with its glass doors, let in most of the light. She could see it across from her as she stood there in the hall; it overlooked the whole of Metropolis, but she had never really considered the view before – only looking out when she knew he would be there. Now she had memorised the landscape; so many times had she combed it with her eyes, searching for the red and blue.
Sometimes she risked glancing to the sky with its hazy blue of the day or dark navy of the night. It scared her to see it's vast expanse and nothing out there; in the deep of city amongst the crowded buildings, she could hope that maybe she just couldn't see him, but the sky lay out bare and blank as if taunting her.
As she looked at it from across the hall, dark rapidly seeping into the skyline, she remembered the last time she had looked out there and expected him back for sure; the night he had left.
They had talked about him leaving once, late at night; it hadn't been special, or dramatic, or markedly different from any of their other nights.
It was dark, the curtains were pulled shut and from outside only the occasional soft hum as a car passed, could be heard; Lois leaned back against the sofas, that day's edition of the Daily Planet held open in front of her as she surveyed her work and then turned a page. Having read half way down, she lowered the newspaper and smirked at the man sitting across from her.
"Well, well Smallville; it seems you are quite the Casanova."
Clark sighed and shifted his position so he was leaning forward on his knees, placing his book aside. "How so?"
"It appears that you were spotted 'canoodling' with not one, not two but three lucky ladies just this week. I mean it's quite impressive actually that in between saving the world and pulling off spandex, you've managed to keep three woman on the go, really Smallville, it's admirable; I mean-"
"Let me see that!" He leant forward and swiped it from her hands ignoring her protests and her attempts to tickle him with her feet. "Look it's Cat Grant – she makes up all kind of garbage; it's not true, I swear. Lois, I would never do that, I would never want to do that… what?!" He looked up to see her clutching her stomach in laughter.
"Clark-" She collapsed in another fit of giggles then took a deep breath. "Clark, I was kidding. If I seriously thought that, let's just say even the most neon green of kryptonite would not be equal to amount of pain I'd inflict."
He narrowed his eyes and huffed a sigh, then, taking the newspaper with him, lent back in his chair. "So she even has quotes?" He raised his eyebrows at Lois before looking back to the article. "Superman or superstud?" He snorted. "One of the lucky woman spoke exclusively to me, telling me the intimate details of her clandestine affair with the ever-mysterious Superman: "He said I was his destiny, and that saving the world was his way of showing me he cared. And he's a great kisser!"" Clark snorted again. "Who the hell is this woman?!"
"Little Miss Delusional." Lois rolled her eyes. "Destiny? What a load of crap."
Clark bit his lip, and then took a breath. "Lois - maybe… maybe she wasn't that far off the mark…" He paused. "It's just sometimes I feel like… maybe you are my destiny." He glanced shyly up to see Lois narrowing her eyes dangerously.
"So you feel like you're obligated to love me no matter what? That you have no choice in the matter? Gee thanks Smallville – way to make a girl feel valued."
He rolled his eyes. "Lois, only you would find being called somebody's destiny insulting. And no I don't feel any of that – I meant, that there's no way I could have any kind of future without you in it, that you're the reason behind me becoming Superman, that I wouldn't have done any of this without you being in my life... happy now?"
Lois sat speechless for a second, before tilting her head. "Whether that's true or not, didn't you say you still have to do training or something? Your destiny, if anything, is to be Superman," She inclined her head towards the newspaper article, spread out in front of him with the name spread out in bold print across the top. "The shining beacon of hope for the entire human race. If you have to still do this training then… you aren't ready yet."
"Lois… I- I don't know if I can do that training." He admitted, with a wince.
"Why the hell not?!"
He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead before opening them again tiredly. "Because I don't think I can leave you."
"What do you mean leave me?!" Lois said, her voice shaky. "Why would you leave me? I- No… I can't imagine-" Her voice tailed off as she grew more and more distressed. At once Clark go up and walked over to the sofa in front of her, and held out his hands for hers. Looking hesitant, she put her hands in his and let him pull her up to standing.
After a moment he began to speak. "When I do my training, I'll be in the fortress, with Jor-El, and I don't know for how long – it could be months, it could be years, it could be decades…" He shook his head sadly. "There would be no way to leave without major consequences, no way to get there, no way for you to contact me, no way for me to see you. I don't think I'd be able to handle it."
Carefully Lois wound her arms round his neck. "Clark." She said, her voice a whisper. "I don't know if I could handle that either, but… you need to do it. The world needs you to do it."
He placed his arms around her waist and pulled her in close to him so she could lay her head on his shoulder and he could lay his on hers.
"I don't know if I can."
"Smallville – I know you can."
He sighed and pulled her tighter. "It doesn't matter; someday Jor-El will call me and I'll have to go no matter what. I don't know when. We might have days, we might have years. I could be about to leave this very second."
"Then let's live for now." She whispered and lifted her head to look at him, then closed her eyes and leant forward, brushing her lips against his then kissing him fully. He kissed her back, tightening his hold on her waist as she half-fell against him. Gently he pulled her down with him as he moved to sit on the sofa, mouths still pressed close together.
"I love you." He murmured, threading his finger through her hair.
She leant back for a moment and smiled. "I love you too."
He smiled back then resumed their kiss; it didn't matter if they were soon to be torn apart, all that mattered was them together at that very moment, content and complete.
It was inevitable; it always had been. That they would be torn apart, that there would be months, years where they wouldn't be together as they needed to be.
And now here she was; alone. It finally arrived– that dreaded day – it had been creeping up on them since their conversation, adding an urgency to their kisses, an intensity to their words; looming over their relationship, darkening the shadows that filled the flat while Clark was gone and stretching out the minutes that forced their way between them as he left to fight crime once again.
And then all of sudden the time had come when it was no longer just minutes that he left her side; it had been months now. The calendar had been flipped three bitter times by hands that ached to abandon their task of chalking up the days of his disappearance, and instead to hold him tight; to clasp him to her, to bring them together again.
Unconsciously Lois scrunched her fingers in, aching to touch him. It was four months to the day – another unsentimental toss of a calendar page was to be done. Heaving a sigh, she turned from where she had been stood facing the door lost in thought, and walked over to the kitchen.
It was hanging by the microwave, and as she went to turn the page, she caught a glimpse of herself in its dark glass – she looked tired, so tired, and lost; her eyes permanently caste in an expression of quiet bewilderment – how could she keep going without him?
Shaking her head, she turned back to the calendar and flipped it – it was now August. She couldn't believe it had only been 4 months since he had left; it felt like much, much longer.
She glanced at her watch – it was only 9 o'clock at night, and yet the strangely darkened summer sky suggested otherwise. Or maybe it was just how she saw the world these days.
She could watch a movie, preferably one where lots of people got ripped apart – Dawn of the Dead? She wouldn't bother with a comedy – it's not like she'd laugh. Or she could give Chloe one of her rare calls, quit being so self-absorbed for one day and think about someone-else. But she knew the worry in Chloe's voice would make her wish she hadn't bothered.
With a surreptitious look around the flat, she glanced at the phone; maybe she could listen to it, just once more. Despite knowing she shouldn't, that it would just increase her pain further, she couldn't help but walk over and kneel down beside the coffee table upon which the phone rested.
With a shaking hand, knowing that she would only end up in floods of tears, curled on the floor, she reached across and pushed the voicemail button.
"No new messages. One saved message. Press one to play."
The automated voice rang out across the flat and Lois shivered in unease; it sounded eerily close to her voice these days; monotonous and flat. After a moments pause, she decisively pressed "one" and immediately breathed out. Closing her eyes she leant back against the wall, still sitting on the floor, and waited for his voice.
It was the only voicemail she had of him, recorded the day before he had left. She had been clinging to it all summer; listening to it over and over, finding comfort from the familiar warm rumblings of his voice and the simple everyday-ness of his words, reminding herself that this was how she used to live.
"Lois, it's me… Clark." His voice immediately cut through her thoughts and she felt herself relax into it; the soft warmth that filled her replacing the feverish temperatures that hung heavily in the air around her. "I'm in Marrakech right now. It's hot… and dusty. Very dusty." There was a pause; she saw him surveying the scene before him, eyes half-closed against the glare of a hot foreign sun."Possibly a few lizards, a scorpion or two… I don't know. It's just…"
She heard a static buzz of him sighing. She could imagine him, standing in the middle of a market, or on a sand dune, squinting in the sunlight, fiddling with his damp collar as he struggled to find that articulate quality that flowed out in his writing. She had sat here against the wall and recreated the scene in her mind so many times, in so much detail; she could see the beads of sweat on his forehead, the tightly knotted muscles on his back, the way he bit his lip as he thought of how to phrase his thoughts.
"I miss you. I know it's only been a day but I just keep thinking about how much you'd love it here, you really would; it's all vibrant and full of life and everyone is running around crazily…" He laughed. "It's a lot like you really. I wish you were here with me… it's not any fun without you. I keep turning around to say something only you would get or show you something only you'd appreciate or grab your hand…
"So when I get back… I was thinking – maybe we could take a holiday, or a sabbatical from the Planet. Travel the world; learn languages, experience different cultures, eat all your favourite takeaway foods in the country they're actually from! I know you've probably been all over the world already, and that you've already "seen it all" as you're always telling me, but I guess growing up in Kansas, well it's like it's a whole new world I'm just discovering…"
The joy and wonder in his voice brought a smile to Lois' face. She loved that about him; the child-like delight in everything, the way he valued every experience and every lesson no matter how trivial or how small.
"… And I wondered if you would mind seeing it all again, with me?"
Of course she wouldn't mind; she would go anywhere with him, for him. And to travel the world together – it sounded like heaven.
"We can talk about it when I get back, though honestly it doesn't look like it'll be anytime soon; we're just waiting to put Chloe's plan into action, and even when it's done, provided it goes well, there's the clean up job and Ollie wants me to go survey some other sites that may have bombs in… I may be a while. But Lois, I just want to be at home… with you." He spoke with a soft longing that resonated within her; was he out there wishing the same thing now? "And we have that massive story on the city's failed clean energy initiative coming up – I promise I'll put in the work when I get back, don't worry about a thing."
He was so caring like that; he never took the easy way out, always trying for the best possible situation, never wanting to take anything for granted or put any extra burden on her; they were a team, neither above the other.
"And don't worry about waiting up for me – please just go to bed because as much as I would love to sit and talk to you all night long, I know you've been exhausted lately and you need to sleep. Seriously Lois, I know you never listen to me." He was lying; they both knew he was probably the only person she ever listened to. "But I mean it – sleep!
She had waited up for him that night – of course she had - falling reluctantly asleep on the couch with the balcony doors open, leaving a light breeze to brush over her hair. She awoken to a hazy early morning light and to find him sitting beside her with his arm over her shoulders and head rested on hers, the finished story set out on the table in front of them. She had hazily snuggled in closer before letting her lids fall shut again; it was these moments that made the bloodshot eyes and aching back worth it.
"So I'll be back hopefully before midnight. I have to go now but call me when you get in so I can actually talk to you instead of rambling away on your voicemail. If I'm busy, I'll get back to you as soon as I can." He sounded desperate. "I just really need to hear your voice right now." There was a rustle as he presumably moved the phone away from his ear to check its status. "Damn! I haven't got any battery left! Look I'll borrow Ollie's phone or something, call me on that… please. Okay well I have to go. See you soon. I love-" Then it cut off and her heart broke anew.
She couldn't move. She couldn't do anything but hang on to the lingering echo of his words. She felt a tear burn her eye and let it slide carelessly down her cheek; she had no make up on to ruin, no one was here to watch her fall apart now. Oh Lois, she thought, oh Lois.
She had gone without him before, for months on end, and had it hurt this much? No. But then she hadn't known, hadn't realised how much they meant to each other, how breathtaking their life together would be. And granted there had been pain – those long three months in Stars City… oh that had been pain all right.
But nothing compared to now.
And leaving him then – that long walk down the hospital corridor with his eyes burning into her back, hers stinging with unshed tears – had been nothing compared to the agony of his leaving her; she could still feel it now, as it was a fresh wound, and she knew it would only heal when his soft hands could touch her again.
"Clark?" Lois called as she pushed open into the apartment. It had been a long night, filled with lots of running, a few gunshots and several nasty bruises; she just wanted to see him, spend an evening making fun of their co-workers and wildly over competitive games of monopoly.
But there was no answer.
"Clark… you there?" An ominous silence filled the air around her and she felt herself begin to tremble. "Clark?" She called again, quietly. This time there came a reply.
"Over here." His voice sounded hoarse and rough as if he had been shouting - or crying. Looking around in alarm, she felt the shaking from before tighten its grip; as she fought to keep her breathing even, she finally saw him standing before her.
He was stood on the balcony hunched over the railing, his back to her, looking out over Metropolis. He turned slowly to face her and she saw his hands were shaking. Terrified of what she would see, she drew her eyes slowly up to his face, lingering on the tense muscles on his arms, the tightness of his shoulders, finally reaching his eyes; they were filled with tears, wide with fear and pain. An at once, she knew it was time.
"No." She whispered, deadly serious; she simply couldn't do it, couldn't let him go. "No, it can't be, it can't be." She balled her hands into fists, despite knowing deep down that this was one battle she had no chance of winning. "It's not time yet. It's too soon. We still have more time. I can't lose you Smallville, I can't lose you." She was angry, indignant; he couldn't go now. "Please! Please don't leave me! It's too soon… too soon."
Unconscious tears found their way down her cheeks, her lip trapped under her teeth as she tried to control herself. With a cry, she ran to him, barrelling into his chest; holding him tight.
"I don't care what I said before. Don't go."
"We both know I have to." He said simply in a murmur. She didn't reply and instead let sobs engulf her, gasps tearing themselves from her lips.
After a moment she lifted her head cautiously off his chest, still fighting to stop herself from letting her despair overwhelm her, and stepped away out onto the balcony, grasping the rail with her hand as if relying upon it to keep her upright.
It was a cold night; her breath, the little that she could expire, clouded around her; fogging her sight. But she could see him clearly beside her, his eyes gazing back at her. With a gentle touch, she drew a finger under each of them, wiping away the tears that betrayed his calm resolve.
"I know." She whispered, with a shake of her head. "I know."
He smiled sadly, and reached for the hand had been softly trailing down his cheek, and held it tight, almost painfully so. It seemed as if he couldn't speak; he opened his mouth then closed it with sigh and meaning in his eyes; she knew everything he had to say.
She smiled back at him, but it was broken; the curve of her lips marred by the dampness of her cheeks, the bright glistening in her eyes.
"I'm not ready for this." She said.
He breathed in deeply; his shoulders shuddering down and then began to speak. "But I am. For this step, for the training, to become the man - the Superman I can be. I don't want to leave you, but you were right; the world needs me to do this, to ensure its survival, as much I need you to ensure mine."
She tried to smile, but it fell away from her trembling lips. "You know, last year," she said. "I would have given anything to hear you say you needed me; I thought you never would, because… I didn't think you did," She drew a shaky breath; her voice choked. "I don't know what's harder; never thinking you would love me or knowing that you do… but not being able to be with you."
"Lois… – this time last year I thought you were dead… for six weeks I thought you were dead, and that I was never going to see you again." His eyes didn't leave her face. "And that was the hardest thing I've ever gone through. Harder, even, than when my father died – because then at least he knew that I loved him, and that he loved me, and that everything I needed to say, he already knew. But with you," He paused for a moment and looked away. "You didn't know any of what I needed to say."
Immediately Lois reached up, gently turning his face back to hers. "I do now. And even then, I knew you loved me – as a friend maybe, but it's love all the same."
"So you see," He smiled, this time a real smile. "Me leaving now isn't so bad – because we both know all we need to and we both know that I am coming back."
"And I'll be waiting…" Lois said firmly. "That's if I don't find another ridiculously handsome, tractor driving, tight-wearing superhero to take your place." She chuckled and then looked slightly shocked. "Wow! I can make bad jokes even when the love of my life is being torn from me to go to superhero training with his alien father in an ice palace in the Arctic." She looked at him from under her eyes with a smirk. "That's gotta be a skill worth having."
Clark grinned back. "You have many other skills Miss Lane."
They stood there for moment, both seemingly forgotten that this could be their last conversation for years, but yet at the same time painfully aware of that devastating fact; they were stalling, putting off their heartfelt goodbyes until the last moment.
Suddenly a white light appeared in the sky rushing down towards the balcony, overwhelming all the stars around it in its intensity. They both immediately jerked their heads from one another to look towards it, their hands shielding their eyes from the glare. As it sped towards the balcony, it seemed to be heading into his chest, curving it's light in curled S shape.
"No!" Lois screamed and without any conscious thought leapt in front of his chest, between him and the light. At once Clark grabbed her and span them round so his back faced the light and she was safely hidden. Behind him the light grew closer and closer, speeding up with every passing second. It now carried a sound too – a furious rushing that filled their ears.
"I have to go." Clark shouted, above the roar of the light, his hands on her shoulders. Lois shook her head violently, her eyes wide with fear. "Remember what we said before. Remember us, remember me, and remember how I feel – because it will never change. Never."
She screamed as she saw the light reach his body and enter him, lighting him from behind. His hands found hers and they wound their fingers together tightly.
"I love you Lois." He shouted, straining to stay with her as the light threatened to engulf his whole body; it was spreading fast through him; he was fading before her eyes. As the light grew in its intensity, Lois could no longer keep her eyes open so painful were the slim beams that managed to pierce them even as she squinted.
"I love you Clark." She whispered, knowing he would hear it, know it within his heart without a doubt. Then his hands found their way to her face, stroking and touching; memorising its contours, then pulled her in for a kiss.
Beneath her fingers she could feel him going. They scrabbled to find a grip, but they could feel nothing. She painfully cracked open her eyes against the light and found his; they were all she could see of him. The light grew larger and larger, shimmering as it swirled around them, then suddenly it burst out in a larger ball and she knew this was it.
"I'll come back to you…" Clark yelled but then it was too late; the light was gone in an instant, as if sucked into his chest as he disappeared. He was gone.
She fell to her knees, tearing at her hair, sobbing his name as she bent over, alone on the balcony in the cold night air.
Lois cracked her eyes open; there was no light around her now. She was still sat in the dark hallway with the photo on the wall, the mark above it, next to the coffee table with the blinking phone with the door on the other side, firmly shut.
She breathed in deeply, struggling to ignore the lump in the back of her throat, the tightness that made it hard to breathe, hard to smile.
She hated the memory, but she loved it too. Because it was the one that gave her the most hope because he was right – she did know all he needed to say, and he would be back… some day. It was just the hopeless waiting, the absence of his presence in every part of her life, the lack of his touch, his smile, his laugh… she just missed him.
And everyday it had got a little harder; all too soon she couldn't pretend he was gone for the weekend, or gone for the week, or the month… and soon it would be years.
Wearily she pushed herself up off the floor, as she winced with the effort she felt the dried salt of her tear crack on her cheeks; she was such a mess. She quickly moved on to the kitchen, crossing to the sink and turning on the cold tap so she could gratefully splash it on her face; rinsing away her pain.
She turned it off with a squeak, and the brief interlude of the rushing water in the silence that lay over the flat so often these days, came to an unwanted end. She cleared her throat, but the sound seemed false and more cutting than calming. She itched to make some kind of sound, to shake herself, this flat even, out of the oppressive gloom that they both seemed to have welcomed.
The CD player sat on the counter next to an old mug with a broken handle that was now filled with chopsticks. It had been so long since Lois had played it that she had no idea what CD was inside, or if there even was one in there. With a tired hand she reached out and hit play, just for the hell of it. There was yet more silence for a few seconds before the sound suddenly burst out.
There she was just a-walkin' down the street, singing: "Do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do"
Immediately the day she had put this on seemed to materialise in the kitchen before her; she could see the happy ghosts of herself prancing around, wildly singing, and Clark as he stood trying to look unimpressed but struggling to keep his face straight.
As soon as Lois woke she was confused; Clark was still asleep. They were living together in her flat while they sorted out arrangements for their new home and usually when she woke, Clark would be awake too; sometimes propped up on his elbow in front of her, sometimes curled in beside her and sometimes he wasn't there at all, having heard, even in his sleep, the call of someone in need.
But now he was there, in front of her, quietly breathing in and out, his arm looped over her waist, and leg tangled around hers. She lent forward and carefully, only moving her head, kissed him on the forehead.
He smiled in his sleep, then slowly his expression cleared and his eyes blinked open.
"Morning." She whispered, smiling. He blinked again and breathed in deeply through his nose as if he was trying to focus. "What is it?"
"I just…" He yawned slightly then pushed himself up so he was resting on the headboard. "Sometimes I think I'm still dreaming."
She immediately grinned cheekily. "So," she leaned in closer, "what kind of dream do you think you're having exactly?"
"I don't know." He raised an eyebrow. "But I think I could find out." He leaned over, heading for her lips but Lois just laughed and rolled over to the other side, put her feet on the ground and stood up.
"Not today mister." As she spoke she began pulling out bits of clothing and shoving them on as quickly as she could. "I have work to get to; if we keep going with that dream of yours, it'll be more Nightmare on Elm Street than Alice in Wonderland when I'm late for the third day running and have to face Tess' wrath."
For a moment Clark looked as if he was about to protest, but then instead got swiftly out of the bed and almost ran to the door. "Well I get dibs on the bathroom!"
"Clark!" she groaned, and he gave a cheery wave before disappearing down the corridor. She almost made to go after him, then stopped herself and leaned out the doorway. "You're so childish sometimes Smallville!" There only came a laugh in reply.
Still grumbling but dressed she made her way to the kitchen and boiled the kettle for coffee; she was trying to give up, but one cup a day couldn't hurt? Well two, but… they were small cups. As she poured in the granules into a mug and began to lazily stir them, she caught sight of the CD player and remembered with a smile what she had found in a box of her old stuff the day before: the Manfred Mann Greatest Hits Album.
It had been her Mother's, not that she had ever really played it, but it had been hers all the same. Abandoning her half-made coffee, and with a quick glance down the hall to the bathroom from which she could hear the shower running, she moved stealthily round to the box that lay half unpacked down by the sofa and grabbed the album.
Snapping it open as she walked back to the CD player, she read the track list and immediately picked out one to play - number three, Do Wah Diddy; it was the only one she actually knew, or that she truly remembered her mother singing along to on rare Sunday morning.
Having opened the disk drive, she popped it carefully in and pushed the drive closed. As she did so she heard the shower turn off and clattering come from inside as Clark clumsily attempted to get himself organised; she chuckled as she thought of him tripping over his towel as he had done on so many other occasions, admittedly usually ones where she had just entered the room, then decisively pressed number three. After a few moments the music began.
"There she was just a-walkin' down the street, singing: "Do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do"
"Lois!" Clark, freshly changed thanks to his super-speed, and looking fairly disgruntled had entered the kitchen. "I don't think I can handle that this early in the morning. She ignored him and danced along to the next line before returning to making her coffee, though continuing to sing along.
"Snappin' her fingers and shufflin' her feet, singin' "Do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do"
Clark reached around her for the cereal but was stopped by Lois spinning round and tossing her hair over her shoulder on each line, making it impossible for him to do anything but stand there and watch her goof around.
"She looked good (looked good),she looked fine (looked fine)
She looked good, she looked fine and I nearly lost my mind"
He stood there biting his lip and struggling to maintain his annoyance as he fought not to laugh and give her the satisfaction. Eventually he managed to dart over to the cupboard and grab a box of cereal as she reached into the fridge still singing happily along.
Before I knew it she was walkin' next to me, singin' "Do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do"
Clark attempted to reach for the milk that Lois had placed on the counter beside her coffee as she engaged one of her hands in holding an imaginary microphone and the other in clicking their fingers in time to the music; as soon as Lois saw his hand snake out, she grabbed it with one of hers and began swinging it with her as she twirled around.
Holdin' my hand just as natural as can be, singin' "Do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do"
We walked on (walked on) to my door (my door)
We walked on to my door, then we kissed a little more
He rolled his eyes, but could not longer contain his smile as she danced under his arm, batting her eyelashes until she finally came to a stop in front of him and with one hand reached out and turned it off. Slowly she leaned in and kissed him, taking both of his hands in hers and winding them behind her back so that he was holding her waist.
As soon as she felt him kiss her back, she pulled away leaving him hanging for the second time that morning. "Can we super-speed to work now?" She asked brightly. "Please?"
He rolled his eyes again. "No more Manfred Mann."
"You know you loved it." She laughed but then nodded, still smirking. "No more Manfred Mann."
But here she was now and the song was still cruelly blasting out; now it's notes seemed to be twisted sharp and flat, the voices blaring out shrilly, painful to her ears; it wasn't fun, or amusing or light hearted.
"Whoa-oh, I knew we was falling in love
Yes I did, and so I told her all the things I'd been dreamin' of"
She lashed out and struck down hard on the stop button… but the music kept on playing.
"Now we're together nearly every single day, singin' "Do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do"
The lyrics seemed to be taunting her situation; spiteful in their irony.
"A-we're so happy and that's how we're gonna stay, singin' "Do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do"
"Stop!" She yelled needlessly, but she could still see the CD spinning on and on through the translucent lid. "Stop!" She shouted again but this time wrenched open the cutlery drawer and found a large wooden spoon. With a yell, she smashed it down on player; a crack appeared but the CD kept on turning.
"Now we're together nearly every single day, singin' "Do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do"
A-we're so happy and that's how we're gonna stay, singin' "Do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do"
She brought it down again. And again. And again until the lid was in pieces and the CD lay shattered. Even though the music had finally, blessedly stopped, she couldn't keep herself from continuing to smash it, brutally laying into it with all her frustrations and pain.
Finally, panting and flushed, she stopped and looked down; all that remained on the counter was the inner electronic working, the plastic shell entirely crushed and splintered, its pieces lying by her feet.
"Oh God," she muttered under her breath. "Oh God. I'm an absolute psycho."
Shaking her head, she found a dustpan and brush from a cupboard and began clearing away the pieces. Her watch told her it was almost 10 o'clock – so this was how she spent her evenings now? Dementedly smashing up CD players, re-listening to several months old voicemails for thousandth time and wallowing in old memories.
It was time to go to bed.
She brushed the remaining plastic shards in the bin, it's lid closing with an insolent clang, and shoved the dustpan and brush back into the cupboard. She sloped round the counter and out into the hall, her eyes flickering shut though she continuously tried blink them back open; she was so tired.
As she walked blindly into the hallway she felt a curious warmth on her back that seemed spread out through her body pleasantly calming her tense muscles and anxiously clenched hands; it was strange in this sticky summer that she could feel so comfortable when not standing in an ice cold shower.
Lazily she stretched her arms upwards with a yawn, letting them fall softly to her sides and she rolled her head from side to side, easing out the tightness that been paralysing her limbs for too long. It seemed as if a soft hand was stroking out the aches and pains, relaxing her as she hadn't been since he'd left.
She could even feel the warmth through her closed lids, and a bright light, that should have been uncomfortable, instead soothed her swollen eyes and she easily opened them.
In front of her, she could see her silhouette on the wall, outlined by the bright light. As if in a dream, she turned slowly, her head first, until she stood facing the balcony.
It was bright. So bright. But yet she kept looking; all she could see was light. Slowly, she stumbled towards it, watching as the skin on her outstretched hands seemed to glimmer as they drew nearer to the light.
She felt so calm, so at peace, as if half of her soul had silently slotted seamlessly back into place without her even realising. With a laugh, she spun around – the light now totally surrounding her – her head lifted up so her hair tumbled freely down her back. She couldn't remember what she was wearing but it felt like silk, smooth and light against her skin.
Then, softly, a voice filled her head. "I love you."
And she peered deep into the light. "Clark?" She spun around again. "Clark, where are you? Are you here?" She couldn't see anyone but her in the white expanse surrounding her that seemed to have replaced her dingy hall and neglected kitchen. "Smallville I need you; you said you wouldn't leave me, you said would come back to me!"
"Lois… I was never gone." She couldn't see him but he was with her. "I'm with you. Remember that; I'm always with you. I will come back to you."
And as the light faded and once again she found herself back in her dark hall, curled in a ball on the floor, rubbing her eyes as she opened them; her head felt heavy and she wondered, and vaguely knew, that she had fallen asleep.
This whole evening felt like a dream – a seemingly illogical rehash of events of before, jumbled together as her mind attempted to sort itself out, mixing memories with the unfolding present in a culmination of the agony of the last three months without him.
But there was a peace within her now; this therapeutic night of reliving what she clung to most, and what she had pushed away for so long, had been a healing process, leading up to breakthrough within her. It was as if her mind had been trying to get her to accept what her pain had blinded her to; that even if physically he was gone, he remained within her always. And no matter how long she went without his touch, she would always be able to feel him within her heart.
And that, most of all, he was not gone forever; for one day… one day he would come back to her.
