Title: Speak
Author: de Duchess
Rating: pg-13/T, for swearing
Disclaimer: Characters mentioned don't belong to me. Wish they did though.
Spoilers: Reckoning and Tomb
dedication: Daseylenne, sosega na paz.
AN: Just a simple fic. I started this after Reckoning when we didn't have more Lois reaction scenes. Then I thought I'd wait for Tomb and we'd maybe see an aftermath. Since that didn't happen either I decided to finish it.
This was posted at Divine Intervention. Now one year later, I'm posting it here.
Summary: What do you say to the dead? All the things you didn't get the chance too when they were alive…
SPEAK
Dread. Settling like a stone in the pit of her stomach as soon as Chloe entered her hospital room. Her insides ran cold as she looked at her cousin. "What's wrong?"
Two words.
She ran possible scenarios in her mind. Trying not to panic as she watched Chloe trying to collect herself.
Stay calm.
"Mr. Kent passed away last night."
No.
"He had a heart attack. Clark and Mrs. Kent were with him."
Shit.
"Are you okay?"
Lois glanced up at the question. Chloe was looking at her apprehensively, trying to gauge her thoughts.
"Yeah." She swallowed the bile that was forcing it's way up and took a steadying breath. "Are they?"
Chloe shrugged helplessly. "I don't know." She admitted.
Lois nodded. "Let's get out of here." She said quietly.
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Closing the door Lois turned around to face the room. And wished she hadn't. It wasn't that the floor was littered with confetti, or that there were plastic cups and plates lying around. It was the fact that everywhere she turned, his face stared back at her. The smiling face of Jonathan Kent. The now deceased Jonathan Kent.
Lois walked further into the Talon and began mechanically pulling down the decorations. She didn't blink as she pulled down endless streamers, or even flinch when the large poster ripped in two when she tugged it down.
It didn't matter. Not anymore.
She didn't know how long it took her to rid the room of any sign of the previous night's party. But she tied the last garbage bag and placed it with the others in front of the counter and made her way up the stairs without having shed a tear.
Until she opened her apartment door.
Hats, posters, signs. All were screaming the name 'Kent' at her. The man she'd lost. The man she hadn't even said goodbye to.
Compartmentalise.
She shoved her pain and grief aside and focused on the task at hand. Clearing away anything that had to do with Mr. Kent.
It wasn't about weakness. She didn't care about that. But he was Clark's father, Mrs Kent's husband of over twenty years. Chloe had know him for at least ten. She'd known him for barely two.
Who the Hell was she?
Her apartment was finally bare and she went into the bathroom to shower. Twenty minutes later she found herself pulling on a simple black shirt over her equally dark jeans. As she made her way to the kitchen she caught sight of herself in the mirror. She slowly turned to face it.
Damn.
Pale, deflated, forlorn. She looked like crap. Which was a pretty good summary of how she felt. She wouldn't cry, She wasn't going to cry.
"I will not cry."
The proverbial dam broke. And a sob escaped her.
Damn it all to Hell.
Her composure shattered. She leaned against the kitchen island and slid down to the floor, pulling her knees to her chest as the tears leaked down her face. Pressing her forehead to her knees, silent sobs wracked her body. And she cried.
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It was a simple bouquet. She placed it on the ground and settled down in front of the temporary marker. The marble cutter would need another couple of weeks before Mr. Kent's tombstone was finished. Selfishly she was glad. She didn't think she could bear to see the words engraved in stone.
Taking a breath she tried to relieve the tightening of her chest. Blinked to try to stop the burning of her eyes. She could do this. She had to.
"Hi Mr. Kent."
Lois starred down at her hands, wringing them together. This was stupid. What do you say to someone who's dead?
"Chloe and I almost got killed yesterday. Some freak orderly with a sick twisted mind came after us. We're okay." She added as an afterthought.
Her lips quivered. "But we almost weren't. Chloe almost wasn't. And I realised."
She swallowed difficulty. "I can't lose another member of my family."
She held back a sob. "I am so sorry. There were so many things I wanted to tell you. Was going to tell you. But I wanted to wait until after the election." A harsh chuckle escaped her and she angrily wiped at her tears.
"I of all people should know better then to leave things unsaid."
She took a breath and felt it escape in a sigh. "I was going to thank you." She admitted quietly. "Thank you for believing in me, thank you for trusting me. Apologise for disappointing you. I was going to thank you for letting me to be a part of something that you believed in. You had dreams, ideals, you were going to change the world starting with Kansas and I am so sorry that you won't get the chance."
Her tears were leaking down her face but she couldn't bother with wiping them away. What did it matter? "I'm angry. Angry that you died. Angry that I could've died and that if I had, you would maybe have lived. I'm angry that I never thanked you for giving me a home, and telling you that made me feel family. I'm angry that I wasn't there with you. And I'm sorry that I never told you this before and I wish I could've gotten that chance."
She was panting. Trying to breathe through the sobs as she poured out her heart to a man who had become so much to her.
"I'm angry that I never got the chance to say goodbye." She whispered.
Taking a deep breath she slowly propped herself up. Roughly wiping her tears she pulled out the letter from her coat. She stared down at the marker for a moment.
"Mrs Kent gave this to me. I didn't want to read it until I thought I could without crying." She gave a humourless smile. "But that day won't be anytime soon, and I almost died again, so."
She tore open the envelope and slowly removed the letter, unfolding it to stare down at Jonathan's handwriting.
Dear Lois,
I'm writing this because I know that if I try to tell you, you'll conveniently find something to do or somewhere to go or a phone call to make, so here it is:
I'm proud of you.
I know you don't handle praise well but I'm giving it to you anyway. Along with my most sincere gratitude. Now we don't know the results of the senate race yet, but you've done an amazing job. I wanted this campaign my way and you did it. You've been wonderful and the best manager a simple farmer could ask for.
Now if you would only place a little bit of that dedication and determination in other aspects of your life… You'd never fail at anything.
I've seen what a determined and motivated Lois Lane can do.
And I believe you can do anything you put your mind too. So I hope you'll try.
Thank You Lois, for the time and effort and compassion you have put into my campaign. You once said that Martha and I were like the parents you always wanted. We haven't forgotten that. Or how you were there when we needed. We never said though, that you are a member of this family through and through. And a daughter we wished to have.
Our door is open to you Lois, always will be. And our diner table easily sits four.
You have your family, but when you'd like to come and share ours, you won't have to ask. You've been part of it for sometime now.
Once again,
thank you
Jonathan Kent
She folded the letter and carefully placed it back. She wasn't crying. Nope, this was all out bawling. Crying just didn't do justice for the sobbing heap she was right now. He'd been proud of her. Jonathan Kent was proud of her. She stared down at the marker as she tried to get her tears under control. Struggling to form some coherent thought.
"Lois?"
Damn it all to Hell.
His hand settled on her shoulder before he pulled her against him and she just didn't have the strength to fight him. So she let Clark hold her. She sat in his embrace for a moment and tried to feel something other than loss.
She couldn't do this, shouldn't, wouldn't. He was Clarks father. She had no right to be consoled by him, when Jonathan had meant more to him than her.
With that thought she extracted herself from his arms and struggled to get up. Wiping her eyes she refused to look at Clark. "I'll leave you alone."
"Lois wait." His words cut off her retreat and she remained still, her back turned to him.
"It's okay. Really, I mean, you were with my Dad so much the last few weeks and you even lived with us. I know you cared about him. It's okay to cry."
Hi words were meant to bring comfort, she knew that. But all they did was anger her. And she turned around to stare him dead in the eye.
"What does that matter Clark?" She asked. Her voice was calm and with a steely edge to it that even she heard. "What does it matter? Yeah I lived with you guys. I was the guest who wouldn't leave! And so what if I was with him the last few weeks? If I spent almost all my time with him or doing things for his campaign?"
She advanced on him, her fists balled. "When on the day that it mattered I wasn't there?!" She screamed. "His last day! I didn't talk to him, I didn't congratulate him, Hell, I didn't even see him! What does any of that mean, when on that day I wasn't there. The one day that mattered and I didn't even see him. So all of that means nothing!"
She stood in front of him now and he looked completely rattled. "I'm so sorry Lois."
Lois stared at him. "What the Hell are you apologising for?" she yelled.
Clark looked utterly defeated. "This is all my fault. I cheated you out of your moments. Because of me you never got your chance to–"
"Stop it!" Lois screamed. She didn't know what he was rambling about and she didn't care. "Don't make this about you, don't you dare make this about you." She took a step back and wiped at her eyes.
"This isn't about you." She told him quietly. "This is about you father. If you wanna feel something feel grief. Feel pain and loss and even anger but don't feel guilt. Because this isn't about you. And don't diminish your father by making it about you."
"I'm angry and sad and a lot of things. And I wish sometimes you hadn't found me that day, because then I would've been electrocuted and all of you would've come up the stairs and maybe your father wouldn't have left and maybe he wouldn't of had that heart attack. But you know what?"
She regarded him sadly. "That's a lot of 'maybe's'. And we can't live our lives dwelling on what could've been. So I can only do what he wanted me to do. And that's succeed. At life and at anything else I try. It's the only way I can honour him now.
She reached out slowly and placed a hand on his chest. "Honour your father Clark. Become the man he believed you could be. He was proud of you and he always will be. So don't let him be wrong."
She looked down at the marker once again. "It's the only thing we can do." she repeated quietly.
Lois looked back at him and found him staring back at her. His eyes shining with tears. He put a hand on top of hers on his chest for a moment, before he pulled her to him in a bone crushing hug.
They stood that way for several moments, crying together for the father they'd both lost. Finally Lois pulled away, wiping at her eyes. "I'll leave you alone." She mumbled.
"Please stay."
She glanced up to find Clark looking at her earnestly and she couldn't refuse. Side by side they sat down on the ground in front Jonathan's grave. Quietly she leaned against his shoulder, his arm wrapped around her, their hands tightly clasped.
What do you say to the dead?
All the things you didn't get the chance too when they were alive…
End
I miss Jonathan Kent.. I wish Clark did too. The anniversary of his death has come and gone on Smallville and hasn't been acknowledged. So I'm doing it. Comments? Please let me know.