Disclaimer: Characters belong to DC, WB, AlMiles, etc. etc. etc. I only own the story, of which I am quite proud.
Chapter 11
The throbbing pain wouldn't stop. She kept her eyes tightly shut to keep the light out. Her head was spinning. She had tossed and turned in her sleep every night for the past four nights. But last night was worse.
She hadn't just cried in her sleep. No, last night she sobbed uncontrollably like she did that night thirteen years ago. Now that it was morning, she could truly feel the pain in her sore muscles.
They never found the picture. He stayed with her until they went through every photograph. He still asked questions about those he found interesting, which seemed, if only for a moment, to take her mind off the one that was missing.
He made some excuse about needing to take care of something and left, after first making sure she would be alright. She assured him she was fine, like always, and he walked out. Part of her wished he hadn't.
But she had to work last night anyway. Mrs. Kent couldn't run the Talon by herself, and Lois didn't mind working. The craziness of serving coffee and muffins took her mind off the picture. But it was always there in the back of her mind and quietly crept into her thoughts whenever the crowd slowed.
By closing time she was emotionally and physically drained and headed upstairs for a long bath. She then fell into bed and cried herself to sleep. The picture danced throughout her dreams and even came to life. She saw her mom sitting there on the rock and could hear her laughing.
She dreamt she was at the Kent farm, standing in the driveway, when she saw her mom walking up the road. She ran up and hugged her. When Lois finally pulled away, she asked her mother what Heaven was like. Her mother smiled and placed her hand on Lois' cheek and said, "I can't tell you. They only let me come back for a little while to let you know everything will be okay. But all I can say is Heaven is wonderful."
Lois began to cry, but her mother wiped away her tears. Smiling, she turned and walked away from Lois, who stood awestruck in front of the yellow farmhouse.
She wasn't ready to wake up. She wanted to stay in her dreams. As far as she was concerned, they were all she had left. She needed them.
Her stomach was turning. She didn't know how long she had been in the fetal position. She gripped the covers tightly around her body. Her pillow was still wet from her tears.
She wasn't sure why she had cried more this anniversary than in the past. But she realized everything got screwed up when Smallville showed up that night unannounced. He'd messed up her routine.
But he had stayed and talked all night about her family. The next night when she confronted him to explain her behavior, he not only saved her from an awkward explanation of the anniversary to his parents, but he hugged her. He had showed up to help her clean the theater and, in the process, surprised her with her favorite movie. Then he unexpectedly cleaned the theater by himself and again stayed to help her look for the lost picture.
As much as he surprised her that week, she was more amazed at herself. She couldn't believe she let him stay the night. She couldn't believe she let him hug her, and she, in turn, hugged him. She let him help her clean the theater and even sat for several hours after the movie discussing Truman Capote. She still couldn't believe he stayed to help her look for the lost picture, asked more questions about her family, talked about his biological parents, and then held her hand. To say the past few days had been shock and awe was an understatement.
She didn't want to open up. She didn't want to see anyone this week. She dealt with her problems the only way she knew how. Alone.
It had been such a strange week. She wasn't exactly sure of everything that had happened. But she was certain of one thing. Her relationship with Smallville was different.
He had gotten through her defenses. Somehow, he'd managed to get her to open up when she least expected. And she was seeing him differently because of it.
They had already secretly admitted to being friends, but he had gotten to her enough that she was slowly starting to gain more respect for the farm boy from Hicksville. And it took a lot to garner Lois Lane's respect.
She had to get up. Rolling over, still gripping the sheets, she looked at the clock on her cardboard nightstand. It was ten o'clock. Even though she'd been in the bed for the last eleven hours, she was pretty sure she didn't sleep the whole time. Her exhaustion and tear-stained pillow gave that away.
Like she had every morning for the past few days, she willed herself to sit up and swing her legs over the side of the bed. She kept her eyes closed. Her head was still throbbing, most likely from all the crying. She was sure she'd never shed as many tears in her whole life as she had that week.
Her feet felt around on the cold floor for the bunny slippers. Finally feeling their familiar fleece warmth, she put them on and pushed herself up off the bed. She stood there for a moment with her eyes closed, breathing deeply and preparing herself for the long day ahead.
She'd thought about going back over to the farm to tell him thanks, but she was well aware of what happened the last time she did that. Was that really a road she wanted to take again?
She had decided last night after Smallville left that she would spend all day today searching everywhere they didn't yesterday. Maybe she did something with it and forgot. Maybe it got picked up with some papers. But it shouldn't have. It was in the box, right on top. It still made no sense. But she would keep looking anyway, until it was found.
Whatever she was going to do, she needed coffee. She plodded into the kitchen and over to the coffee maker, keeping her head down and letting her hair cascade in her face to shield her eyes from the morning light. She poured the coffee grounds into the new filter, filled the top with water and flicked it on. She'd done it so many times, she could do it in her sleep. She thought she probably had.
She spun around to reach for her favorite blue ceramic coffee mug off the island countertop. That's when she noticed them.
There had to be two dozen white lilies standing tall in the clear glass vase. She gasped and nearly dropped her mug.
Those weren't there last night, were they? She hadn't come in the kitchen after work. She'd gone straight to the bathroom to take a bath, then to bed. Surely, she would've seen them.
But there they were. Who could've possibly…
An envelope with "Lois" scrawled in black ink lay next to the vase on the counter. She set her mug on the counter and hesitantly reached for the envelope. She didn't recognize the handwriting and paused for a split second before opening it. Taking a deep breath she tore it open.
A note. Of course, there was a note. Wasn't there always with these things?
It was only a few lines, but it was simple and straightforward. She read it quietly to herself.
Lois,
I'm sorry about this week. Everything seemed to bring up memories, which can be good or bad depending on your perspective. I hope to make it up to you. Come by the farm later today around 2 p.m.
Clark
P.S. I found something that belongs to you. See enclosed.
When wasn't he sorry? He was always sorry for something. He was constantly apologizing for things he couldn't control but always tried to. She didn't know whether to strangle him or love him for that savior complex he had developed.
She read the P.S. again and, bracing herself for what could be enclosed, she cautiously looked inside the envelope.
The tears came first. They seemed to be on automatic lately. This time, however, they were tears of joy, not sadness. Her mouth fell open and the envelope began to shake. Her breathing quickened and she slowly pulled the picture out of the envelope.
Sure, she wanted to know where he found it. She wanted to know if he was the one who took it. But those questions and several others would be answered later.
For right now she held it in her hands once again. And she silently admitted that she would be forever grateful to him.