Okay, this one needs a little explanation. I was forced to go see We Are Marshall by my family and... well... it was an incredible movie. But heartbreaking every agonizing minute. So when I got home, I went and wrote this to try and lessen the knot in my stomach a bit. It doesn't look like much, but at the time I was sort of emotional, so it took a bit out of me to write it. After a long time, I finally decided to post it, it had been languishing on my hard drive. So, without further delay...
After the night's events, Lois Lane didn't know what condition her husband would return to her in. A plane crash, a fiery, searing plane crash had taken the lives of seventy five men and women dear to her husband, and to herself. In a mindless, unfathomable instant, the seventy five died… leaving countless broken… bereft… and alone. There, in the midst of the hundreds, crying, screaming; each person remained alone. Alone in their thoughts, their minds numbed with panic and grief. A deeply rooted anguish that took a hold of their hearts without mercy. And in the middle of such tragedy, expected to keep a straight face, was her husband.
Expected to show no emotion, expected to be the calm in the storm, the eye in the hurricane. And so Lois Lane, who knew and understood her husband better than any person in the world, watched as he kept up the façade expected of him. She watched as he supported the ones who couldn't stand for themselves, physically and emotionally, she watched as he dove repeatedly into the inferno, risking not his life or limb, but his sanity.
And there, he raised his eyes and their gazes locked. Without words spoken, volumes were said. The dirt and soot that obscured his face couldn't disregard the instant he let his defenses drop. His eyes, gleaming with the fire still licking at the remains of the plane, met hers with a glance that spoke of the desperation of helplessness and sorrow coupled with the fierce passion of agony and heartache. But only for one instant and he was back, stoic and unmoved.
As the callous red glare from a thousand ambulances and the dull orange flicker from the muted flame lent a hellish air to the surroundings, Lois Lane leaned back against one sturdy oak and let out a harsh breath.
When all of this was over, the flames vanquished and the screams muted by walls and doors, her husband would return to her. Not as the invulnerable superhero but as an exposed man, scarred from the horrors he witnessed.
And she'd be there, for who else could support the man who held up the world?