Title: L.L.K.
Spoilers: All episodes
12.
Doomsday….
I'd thought the worst was behind us. Our world, which had tilted on its axis a year ago, had slowly reconvened its place. I remembered Clark's hands were always touching my skin, my clothes, my things. It was like he was afraid of losing me like he'd lost his parents and his child. And it should have been me. I should have been the one making sure his spot in my world would always be there, but I hadn't, because he was Superman and Superman was invincible.
Everything happened fast. It was the end of the world, and I was watching it burn. It was the first time I was afraid. The monster was matching him hit for hit, and Clark was losing. All I could do was wait, which I'd become very good at when it came to him.
Holding him in my arms, he was heavy. He'd never been so before.
He stopped moving, and I didn't stop crying his name into his skin and running my hand through his hair. He stopped breathing and it didn't mean anything because he didn't need air.
His very life slipped between my hands, my puny little human hands. The closer I held his skin, the more that seeped out, and there was nothing I could do. I was helpless. I didn't know how to do helpless.
"He needs me! He needs me!"
And I meant, 'I need him! I need him!'
They were…dark days. In the beginning, he wasn't dead. He was my husband and he was out saving the world. I slept in his clothes, dragged his cape around my shoulders. Then the day of the funeral came and Clark's superhero camera shy face stared at me above his casket. I had never envisioned a life where Clark didn't exist. I didn't know how to work in this new world. For once, I wasn't the strong Lois. I broke into the arms of Oliver and Bruce, and they made sure every piece left of myself was taken back to our apartment. My soul was on fire and nothing could tamper it. No amount of comforting or sympathy could replace the emptiness that took over me.
I loved him. I loved him so much and what was I supposed to do with that love now?
For a long while, I wasn't left alone. I thought about quitting the paper and becoming a crazy old hermit. I lost too much weight. I imagined I saw my father on the street. And I talked to Clark, everyday. The first time I went to his grave I was there nearly the whole day. I was lying on the grass when Oliver walked up, and after that we both stayed until the crickets chirped and the moon fell.
"You know I'm here, Lois. Whenever you need me."
I kept counting the same barely visible stars in the darkening sky. He'd been saying that from the beginning; so had everyone else. It wasn't that I was ungrateful, I just had nothing to say. Lois Lane, the woman who usually had a say about everything, had gone silent. Everyone feared for the worst.
His shoulder pressed against mine and I finally turned my head to look at him. What if it were Dinah? Would he listen to me? Would he disappear like I felt like I wanted to?
"He's still here, Ollie." My eyes closed. "You know how people talk about their foot aching, but they don't have one anymore? That's Clark." I opened my eyes and he was closer. "He's my phantom limb. And I feel him here and it hurts so much. It hurts so much I can barely think about anything else."
"Lois...."
I turned my face back to the sky.
"I'm all alone now."
"No, you're not, Lois. I will be here for you always."
"That's what Clark said too."
It never got easier. It just became a little less unbearable. I went back to work, hungry as ever, and on the surface, life went on. Perry always kept an eye on me – and I pretended like I didn't know it. I really tried, to be that woman Clark fell in love with again because I knew he'd want me to keep my spark. I couldn't, though. It was nearly the anniversary and the world became inundated with memories of Superman.
Everyone else lost a hero. I lost my family.
The hardest thing next to losing Clark and the baby, was being bombarded by men proclaiming to be Superman. I really wanted to believe one of them, any of them. My life would have made sense again and I could have breathed again. The fifth imposter came along and I was tired of it all. I wanted him, them, away from me and my dreams. I asked him what made him different from the other heroes proclaiming to be Superman. I was sure the answer would be vague, but he answered with Clark's favorite movie.
The words "To Kill a Mockingbird" had never been met with so much hope. I very nearly felt relief, because maybe my sorrow was over. I didn't; I wasn't born yesterday.
But it was him. He was alive! And he was beside me and breathing and warm and alive. I felt his lips on mine and all the pieces of me that had been left where he died suddenly found me and I was the woman who fell in love with him again.
It didn't hurt anymore.
I tried not to take for granted our life again. It wasn't too hard. We had a long line of villains in our future. We had each other.
