Title: Hourglass
By: gddg96
Spoilers: Season 9 ish
Disclaimer: I own nothing Smallville and or Superman

Chapter 1

I stagger a little, as I regain my footing. Alive. I breathe in the air that I never knew I would love so much. I rethink. So many near death experiences. So many moments that I thought with conviction I was a goner. Insignificant compared to now. It wasn't a near death experience, it feels more like, resurrection. I contemplate this in less than a second, and then I am gone. I run and seek refuge in my safe fortress. In the barn, I recall my last conversation with Lois. I'm flooded with repentance; I'm not gone. But she is, now. Flooded with relief; I can be with her. Flooded with love; love and more love. Call. I at least need to call. I check my pockets for my phone, and then I hear it.

A piercing sound; so loud and pitched. Jor-El. My father is calling me. I hope Lois can wait.

\S/

"Jor-El. You called me?" I yell into the crystalline structure.

"Yes, my son. It is time. You have conquered my enemy"

"Who used to be your closest friend, "I can't help but bitterly mark.

"Naman and Sageeth, my son. A balance. Although it seems history has a way of repeating itself. Lex Luthor… Perhaps we are alike in our trait to overly trust those around us." This shuts me up.

"What do you want, Jor-el? As much as I appreciate the praise, I hardly think it was worth the trip up North."

"You defeated General Zod. For that I am proud, my son. However, you've achieved this through your studies. It is time to continue your training. You will remain in a comatose state for a year, my son. An earth year is all you require."

"A year! I've just risen from the dead. I'm hardly in the condition to train…" Excuse. An excuse. Anything. But I can't be away from her now.

"On the contrary, my son. You need to recuperate. What better way than to heal your body than to educate your mind. You will learn all you need to know from our home planet and your body."

"I can't just leave. There are people that need me, Jor-El."

"Or do you need them."

"Regardless." I sputter.

"Son, did you not inform them you would be leaving with the Kandorians? Your beloved ones are all under the impression that you've left. They do not know you nearly died. They do not know you are back. As far as they know, you are gone. You are gone and are never coming back. You can return and claim a miraculous recovery "

"Just let me see Lois. Let me run to Africa quickly and…"

"Your mate is not in Africa, Kal-El. She is still residing in your home town of Smallville."

"She said she left."

"I'm not programmed to deceive, my son." Smallville… She's in Smallville…

"5 hours. That's all I'm asking. Just 5. I'll be back, Father, I promise. I want to accomplish all that you've planned out, just… give me…"

"Since you began earlier in the year with a partial amount of training, I will grant you the 5 hours. Return here at nightfall. Do not fail me, Kal-El."

"Thank you, Father."

\S/

I sit in the loft, and I wait. Perhaps he'll show. If I were resurrected, where would I go? I muse around the idea and decide that I am in fact in the right place. I smile to myself. His fascination with astronomy is suddenly very clear to me. The meteors that fell from the sky in a raging fire… They altered his life so completely, it seems.I look at the pictures on his desk. Mr. and Mrs. Kent, his wonderful loving parents. I shudder to think as to what Clark would have become with any lesser parents to guide him. Chloe, my cousin, my sister. She must have known. All the lousy excuses… Pete, his childhood friend. I imagine he must have moved away for a valid reason that has something to do with a local meteor freak named Clark Kent. L-Lana. My eyes widen. Their whole star crossed lovers affair straight out of a Shakespeare travesty suddenly seem all that much more devastating. All his conflictions, all his ponderings and questions and devastations. Magnified. The issues… I never thought I'd be able to empathize Lana Lang. There is no picture of me.
"Lois…" I hear my name whispered in the air.

Am I hallucinating? Has staying in Weirdsville finally cracked me? I turn slowly, and take a little peak… Clark. He is dirty, and bloody, and beautiful. I can see the hole in the shirt, and I can see the healed wound. And then I'm in his arms. He staggers a little, and I smile a private smile, because he probably just does it for effect. Any other man would have fallen right over at the speed and strength I'd hurled myself at him. But he is not any other man. He's Clark. And he smells just the same as the plaid shirts I pilfer, and he feels just like the wonderful boy that can melt me with a glance. I tighten my hold on him, if possible. I hold him in my arms, and I don't want to let go. I sob quiet sobs, and I hear him sob too. I can't remember the reasons that this is wrong. The reasons I'm not worthy, the reason's he's too good for me. All I can remember is that he died. And now he's alive. And he's with me. He's with me, and I love him. And so I say it.

"I love you." I say, quietly. He stiffens, and I know he heard me, but I need to say it again.

"I love you, Cla-"

"I heard you." He says, monotone.

And my healing heart stops to mend for a moment. I remember the reasons, now. And so it's okay. It's okay if he doesn't feel it, too. He is a God among men. He is so much more than I'll ever be. So I caress his cheek, and he leans into my touch. I pull back a little to look at his face, but he doesn't give me much wiggle room.

"I love you. And you don't have to say anything." I repeat.

"I know, he says, "but I want to anyway.." my jaw locks. I can handle him not loving me. But please, I silently pray, you don't have to say it.

"Please don't." I voice my thoughts, and he smiles at me. And it is the most handsome masterpiece I've seen.

"I can't help it, Lois. Loving you was sort of out of my control." Too much. It's too much and so I cry.

I cry while he holds me, telling me he loves me like a mantra. I can't take it anymore. I need to feel him. Feel his love. I kiss him. I'm kissing him, trying to voice my feelings, trying to translate everything I want to say, and he responds. I'm hooking my arms around his neck, and the tears keep coming. He hoists me up onto the couch and I trail kisses, peppering his eyelids, his temples, his cheeks, his nose. I make my way down to his neck and he moans, beautiful. I look up at him and shiver at the stare he is giving me.

"I love you." I say, because that's all I know.

"I love you, too, Lois." He says.

"Then show me." I whisper on his lips. And then he does.