More Powerful: Chapter 13

Coming Home

Maybe it was his exhaustion. Maybe being alone for all that time affected him more than he realized. Something inside him always reached out for her, and this afternoon he didn't have the strength or the desire to hold it back.

Her hair brushed his lips and he rested his chin on top of her head. In this moment, he couldn't remember the reasons for them to be apart, he exhaled deeply, letting go of the last strand of the façade. He held her closely, molding his body to hers as he had done countless times before in a past only he remembered.

He felt her grow stiff in his arms. Suddenly she pulled back to look at him, her eyes wide with shock.

He braced himself for what was to come, her love or her rejection, he welcomed it – he couldn't lie to her anymore.

'It's you." His heart skipped at her words, in joy or in fear he didn't know.

He searched her face for something, anything that would cue him as to what to say. But she seemed to be lost in old memories that were now pouring into her consciousness.

She was still a long moment, lost in a cascade of old feelings as they mixed with the current reality.

Slowly, her hand slid from underneath his, and traveled across the line of his lips, so softly he gasped at the touch. Everything in him wanted to reach for her and finish a kiss that started five years ago. But he dared not even a flicker of motion, not wanting to lead her in any direction.

So he would do as he had for five years.

He waited.

She stared in wonder at the man in front of her. He looked so much the same, and completely different all at once. Her friend. Her love. She knew every feature of this face and yet it had only taken a pair of glasses to make her blind.

He regarded her anxiously, nervously chewing on the inside of his lip. He did that a lot, as Clark, she mused. When he was deep in thought, or waiting out one of Perry's rants. How often she had looked at him, and never saw a thing.

He stood before her, his eyes alight with fear.

She understood that fear. She didn't know whether he was more afraid of her rejection or her acceptance. She suffered the same affliction.

She turned over this new information in her mind, determined for once to not be rash, running headlong into danger. This was too important…

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She remembered that morning, years ago, standing in front of him, tears burning her eyes, her heart breaking.

"Do you know what it's like seeing you come in here everyday and knowing who you are and not being able to hold you or touch you… I don't even know what to call you."

She had collapsed into sobs, the dam of her heart breaking open. It was too much to be near him and not be with him. To pretend not to love him.

His hand touched hers ever so gently, pulling her to him. He held her against his chest and she tried to find comfort in the strong steady beat of his heart. Beneath her cheek she felt the raised symbol, hidden beneath his shirt. Such a small thing, keeping her from him, even now it put distance between them.

His voice was velvet wrapped around her. "Just tell me you love me."

His fingers had held her chin and tilted her face to his. His face was drawn with sorrow, his eyes shining with unshed tears. As she looked into the blue depths, she saw the love so naked in his eyes. And then, determination.

His lips had met hers and her world stopped. The feeling of his arms around her slowly dissolved into a haze of confusion, leaving her cold and shivering.

When she had opened her eyes, Clark stood across the room, as she'd always known him, a coworker handed her a cup of water as she shook the cobwebs from her head.

For days, weeks, Clark had barely spoken to her, or looked in her direction, and while thinking it strange, she didn't pursue the matter. She had been baffled by his change in attitude. His face seemed pained whenever she was near, his smile forced and sad. Even his clumsy antics seemed forced. He was careful to stay out of her way, as if he had been afraid to touch her.

A month later he stood at her desk, after having told everyone else goodbye, he was leaving to do some research overseas, wasn't sure when or if he'd be back. He had taken her hand and pulled her from her chair, his usual spastic awkwardness gone for a flicker of a moment as he embraced her.

"Goodbye, Lois," he had whispered, his voice breaking.

Surprised at his rare show of emotion, she had hugged him back, only able to say "Goodbye, Clark."

Then he was gone, leaving her, watching his retreating back in wonder.

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She floated back to the present. Her lips tingled in memory of his kiss, and her hand brushed along the planes of his lips unbidden. She heard his intake of breath at her touch.

He had tried to protect her, as he always did. He took away the source of danger, once again leaving himself to bear the burden alone.

Lois lifted her eyes back to his. Even now, he would do it again to spare her, Even now, knowing what it was like to live a love story alone.

Her hand slid from his lips, his tie, loosening it with one finger, her eyes never leaving his. Her hands found the first button of his shirt. One…it released with a small snap….two and three followed. She slid her fingers inside the shirt. His eyes focused on hers, he did nothing to stop her. Spreading the shirt wide, she traced her fingers across the raised symbol she found on his chest.

Lois lowered her eyes, focusing on the symbol that stood for hope to so many.

What did it mean for her?

Five years ago it had been the reason he left her.

Today they had a son. They were bound body and soul.

There was something more powerful than a memory.

"Clark…" she whispered, her voice full of love, of understanding.

Then, she looked at him. Really looked at him, her eyes welling up with tears. It was his undoing. Man of Steel or not, he couldn't stand the uncertainty in her eyes.

"Lois," his voice barely audible as his head dipped, wanting to tell her everything his words could not, his lips searching for hers. Inches from their goal, her head turned and she leaned against him, nuzzling his cheek with hers.

It was a reunion of souls. He wrapped his arms around her and they just stood, her feet resting on his, her head tucked beneath his chin. Their bodies cast one shadow on the wall. They were still and silent, breathing each other's breath, listening to one heartbeat in tune with the other.

He exhaled heavily, "I'm sorry." His lips moved against her hair. "I couldn't stand it. Hurting you. I didn't know what else—" His voice shook. "—what else to do."

The tears came, running unchecked down his expanse of blue chest. She shook her head against him. "I couldn't handle it then. I was young and selfish and jealous of the whole world. I didn't understand what loving you would mean."

She pulled away from him, tilting her head to look into his eyes. "When you left, I waited. I was up on the roof every night, scanning the sky looking for you. Everyone told me you were dead. I knew better. Then Jason—" Her lips softened into a smile at the thought of their son. "I'm stronger now, because of him. I understand. Because of everything…" she trailed off.

"I'm such a fool." He ran his fingers lovingly down her cheek. "What was I looking for?" His lips grazed her temple. "My home was here all along."