Grandma Tildy.
Dead.
She’s dead, Clark.
It’s Grandma Tildy.
She’s dead, Clark.
The world tilted on its axis and spun at a dizzying pace as the world whirled around in his mind, repeating over and over like an ominous whirlpool. Clark felt himself become disoriented and nauseous. He reached out blindly and felt his hand connect with the sturdy brick façade of Armand’s Steakhouse. His mouth went bone dry and he struggled not to throw up.
“Clark?” Bruce asked worriedly. “Clark? Are you there?”
“Dead?” Clark croaked out, his voice finally returning to him, even though it sounded broken in his ears. He had to ask, as if the simple act of asking again would somehow make it not true.
“I’m sorry,” was all Bruce would say.
“W…When?” he asked shakily.
“Two nights ago,” Bruce responded sadly.
How can that be? She was fine when I saw her last! She didn’t look or act sick, his mind screamed at him as his memories transported him back to that night, sitting out in the garden and pouring out his heart to her. She’d seemed so strong and to be the epitome of health. Nothing about her demeaner gave voice to an underlaying issue. If anything, she’d appeared to be slightly older than he’d remembered her, but otherwise unchanged.
“Clark?” came Bruce’s voice, tearing through the fragile gossamer images in Clark’s mind. “Are you okay?”
A million questions raced through Clark’s mind, all of them demanding to be answered first. It felt like a swarm of maddened bees in his brain, and their clamors for attention were deafening.
“Two nights…but…I just talked to her just a few nights before that!” Clark protested, as though it couldn’t be true if he’d just recently talked to her. “She looked healthy as ever! I can’t believe…” His voice trailed off as he choked on his emotions. He shook his head. “How?” he asked again.
“An aneurysm burst in her brain,” Bruce said quietly. “No one knew it was there. Supposedly she was fine one minute and then…” He did not finish his statement. He didn’t have to.
Clark hung his head, his chin hitting his chest. For a moment, he was rendered completely speechless. Then, finally, in a croaking voice, he managed to get out, “Oh, God.”
“I’m so sorry, Clark,” Bruce offered sympathetically. “I know she was a big part of your life.” He paused. Then, “Did you say you spoke to her recently?”
Clark nodded, though Bruce couldn’t see it. “More than that. I saw her, Bruce. I was there with her, not five feet away and never guessed anything was wrong with her. We talked for a while. She seemed perfectly fine.”
“What made you visit, after all this time?” Bruce wondered curiously.
“It wasn’t a conscious decision,” Clark admitted. “I happened to be in the neighborhood. It was the night Superman helped recapture Colin Coleman,” he said pointedly. “I wound up meeting a runaway from her house and I convinced him to return.”
“As Superman, I assume,” Bruce said knowingly.
“Yeah. But when I brought him back and saw Grandma…she knew me, Bruce.”
Knew me, forgave me, and embraced me, he thought with a deep sense of loss. All that time I wasted, being afraid she’d be too angry to ever talk to me again. I wish I hadn’t wasted it.
“How?” Clark could envision Bruce’s eyes narrowing in concern.
“She just…did. She said she figured it out the first time she saw me…you know.” His voice dropped lower and he tucked his chin down to his chest as he spoke, though there was no one near him at the moment.
“The bombing was televised,” Bruce replied slowly, putting things together.
“Exactly,” Clark confirmed. He took a shaking breath and was glad for the wall his hand was on. It prevented him from sinking to the ground as his knees began to feel weak, as though his grief was sapping all his strength. “I’m glad I got the chance to apologize. I just…I can’t believe this.”
“I am too. You always seemed bothered by how unresolved things had been.”
“Yeah, I was.” He cleared his throat and closed his eyes against the pain of his next question. “Do you have the information for the funeral?” He fumbled blindly in his sport coat’s breast pocket for a pen and pad of paper, but this wasn’t one of his work suits and of course he had nothing to write on or with. And in his shock and grief, he wasn’t sure he could trust his normally flawless mind to retain all of the information correctly.
“I do. I’ll email it to you. I just wanted to call first, so it didn’t come as such a shock and out of the blue,” Bruce responded gently, his tone the softest Clark had ever heard it. “I thought it would be better if you heard it from me, rather than some other source.”
Again, Clark took a shaky breath and nodded to himself. “Okay, thanks, Bruce. I…I really appreciate it.” He shook his head. “it might not sound like it but…I do. You’ve always looked out for me.”
“You’re welcome.” There was a slight, perhaps even brooding, pause. “I just wish I was calling with better news.”
Clark laughed ruefully. “Yeah, me too. I’ll call you in a few days. I need to make arrangements to get out there. Are you going?”
Bruce sighed noisily into the phone. Clark’s trained ear heard the regret in it. “I won’t be able to make it to the wake, but I’m shifting things around to try and make it to the burial. Do you want me to send a plane for you?”
Again, Clark shook his head, his heart heavy in his chest. Of course Bruce would make the offer, but something within Clark was hesitant to take his friend up on it. Perhaps being out on his own, making his own way, earning his own living had changed something inside of Clark. He felt too grown to need to rely on Bruce’s generosity. He was a man now, not a helpless kid. He was looking ahead to a marriage with Lois! If he couldn’t even handle getting to a funeral on his own, he had no business thinking about engagement rings or about telling Lois that he was Superman.
Superman.
Clark mentally sighed.
He couldn’t have that conversation tonight. His thoughts and resolve had been shattered with the news of Grandma’s passing. His heart had already been ripped out of his chest and torn apart. He couldn’t risk if happening again if Lois took the news badly. And he did not want to tell Lois while he was so vulnerable in case the only reason she took the news gracefully was out of pity for him.
The conversation would have to wait. Again.
Clark cleared his throat as though it would clear his head too. “No, it’s okay. I’ll handle things. I appreciate the offer but…there’s a part of me that just…feels like I need to do this on my own. No offense.”
“None taken,” Bruce said with understanding. “Talk to you soon, Clark. And, again, I’m truly sorry to have to give you this news.”
“Thanks, Bruce. Bye.” Clark didn’t wait for a response. He hung up the phone, fighting back the tears which pricked mercilessly at his eyes.
Making sure no one was looking, he removed his glasses and used the back of his left hand to wipe at his eyes, hoping to chase away the water pooled there. Then he replaced the frames on his face, squared his shoulders, and went back inside, back to where Lois and her family were waiting for him. His heart was heavy as he went, feeling like a physical weight that slowed his movements, dragging him down to a sloth’s pace. He tried his best to act natural – he didn’t want to drag down Lois’ evening, since all three of the Lane women seemed to be getting along rather well – but he knew he was doing a poor job of it. Lois studied his face as soon as he sat down.
“Clark?” she asked, concerned. “What’s wrong?” She cupped his cheek in one hand, forcing him to look at her.
“It’s nothing. We can talk about it later,” he said in a near whisper.
Lois shook her head defiantly. “Clark, you look like you just saw a ghost. What’s going on?” she demanded gently.
Clark looked down at the floor, acutely aware of Lucy’s and Ellen’s eyes on him. He cleared his throat, to banish the lump that had formed there. He took a breath to steel himself, lest he lose his tenuous grip on his emotions.
“That was Bruce who called,” he began to explain. “He needed to…pass along some information.”
“I’m guessing it wasn’t good news,” Lucy said, earning a hard frown from Lois.
“Grandma Tildy died the other night.” He knew his voice was cracked and broken, but he was too emotionally drained to do anything about it. It still felt unreal that Grandma Tildy – always the very pillar of strength and goodness – could be gone.
Lois gasped, her hand flying up to her mouth in the same moment. “Oh, Clark! I’m so sorry!” She reached out to him and took his hand in her own.
“Who’s Grandma Tildy?” Lucy asked, unable to hold back her curiosity.
“She’s the woman who ran the halfway house where I was sent after my parents passed away,” Clark replied. Inwardly, he cringed at how hollow his voice sounded in his own ears. “She took great care of me. She even helped me figure out that I was meant to get into Journalism for my career.”
“I’m so sorry,” Lucy offered, almost in sync with Ellen.
“We can leave, if you want,” Lois told him, scooting closer. She put her hand on his back and began to rub soothing circled there.
Clark shook his head. “No, I don’t want to pull you away from your family. Besides, I’m guessing you ordered some kind of chocolate dessert.” He mustered up a smile for her.
Lois chuckled and bit her lower lip to suppress a smile. “Guilty as charged.”
That made Clark laugh – a genuine laugh that uplifted his bleeding heart. “I thought so.” He paused a moment, then, “So…what’d I miss, while I was outside?”
Lois gave him a tiny, half smile. “Not much. A little gossip about people you’ve never met.”
He chuckled again. “Sounds fascinating.”
“Yeah,” Lois agreed sarcastically, grinning.
Her smile chased away some of the gloom in his heart. It always did, no matter the reason why he was upset. He wondered idly if she had any idea how good she was for his heart and mind. If she didn’t, he vowed to himself that he would tell her.
The rest of the evening passed without any notable moments. Lois did her best to keep Clark’s mind off his loss. For his part, he appreciated the effort, but the knowledge remained, lurking in the shadows of his mind, tinging the night with profound sadness. At one point, midway through dessert, Clark asked himself why losing Grandma felt almost like losing his parents all over again. And the only reason he could come up with was that, in her own, unique way, Grandma had been a parental figure. His teenaged self hadn’t recognized her as such back then, when he’d come to her as a newly orphaned, lost, and lonely young man. But, looking back, Grandma had done her best to act as a parent, without trying to replace the mother and father he’d lost.
“So, do you want to talk about it?” Lois asked, later that night, after they’d said goodbye to Ellen and Lucy and returned to Lois’ Jeep.
“I…I’m not even sure where to begin,” Clark admitted as he buckled his seat belt. “Grandma…she was a good woman. And I…I wasted a lot of time when I could have apologized so much sooner for running away.”
“We always think there’s so much time,” Lois nearly whispered. “We always assume tomorrow will come.”
Clark nodded. “For so long, I was afraid of how she would react, if I suddenly called her or showed up on her doorstep again. I shouldn’t have. I should have known she would forgive what I’d done. And now, because of that irrational fear…” He sighed.
Lois checked her mirrors and pulled away from the curb. “You got to make amends recently,” she gently reminded him. “You made her happy, Clark. In the end, that’s the important thing, isn’t it?”
“It is,” he agreed. “I just wish…I wish I’d known it was the last time I’d get to speak to her. There’s more I would have said.” He sighed bitterly. “The best I can do now is go book a flight and tell it to what’s left of her.”
“You and I both need to book a flight,” Lois corrected him. “I’m going with you.”
“Lois, you don’t have to…” he began.
“It’s not up for discussion,” Lois gently cut him off with a gentle shake of her head. Her tone was soft and comforting, but also firm enough to let him know this was not a discussion he’d win. “Look, Clark. You’re hurting. Okay, so maybe I never met Grandma Tildy, but, she helped you become the man you are. For that, I owe her my thanks, the same as I owe your parents for making sure you are the person you are.” She looked over to him quickly and her voice grew almost reverently quiet. “Besides, I love you. I don’t want you to have to go through this alone.”
Clark managed a small, sad smile. “Thank you, Lois.”
I don’t deserve you. I never did and I never will.
She returned the smile just before blowing her horn at the driver ahead of her, who had stopped abruptly, though the light was green.
“Really,” Clark continued hastily, but sincerely. “Lois…you’re always there when I need you most. Words can’t describe how much that means to me. No matter what happens…you’re always there to make me feel better. I really appreciate that. I want you to know that, because I know that sometimes I might not say it, for whatever the reason.” He looked away, a little embarrassed, and studied the dashboard before him.
I appreciate you so much that I’ve been lying to you for months now.
“You’re welcome,” Lois replied, sounding humbled. “But, well, you’ve always done the same. Like tonight. Part of me really, really didn’t want to go to dinner. But having you by my side made it so much easier. I even enjoyed myself, because you were right there with me.”
“Happy to help,” he lightly joked, relieved that she’d taken his comments in stride.
“So, now…when do we leave?” she asked, bringing the conversation back to the topic at hand.
Clark shook his head, a fresh stab of pain lancing his heart. “I have no idea,” he admitted sheepishly. “Bruce is emailing me the details.”
“How come Bruce knew before you did?” she wondered aloud, curiosity in her voice.
Clark scratched his cheek, then rubbed the back of his neck as he began to explain. “After I moved into Wayne Manor, I felt an incredible amount of guilt. There I was, living in the lap of luxury,” he said, gesturing vaguely, as though ushering Lois into his memories. “I had a huge bedroom, a private bathroom, access to whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted it. Bruce even gifted me a video game system before it was available for purchase in America. And we’re not talking weeks before. More like a year.” He sighed guiltily. “All I kept thinking about was the boys living at Grandma’s. They had everything they needed – food, water, shelter, love. And they had plenty of comforts – television, games, trips into town to go to the movies and the like. But…it was never enough. The sports equipment, for example, was functional, but shabby. Hockey sticks were held together with duct tape. Basketballs were worn down to the point of being almost completely smooth. Things like that.”
Distaste colored his words as he remembered the beaten-up condition the toys and sports equipment had been, compared to the unearned newness of what Bruce had provided him with. He looked down, studying his fingernails, because it burned him with shame to think back on how spoiled he’d been at Wayne Manor, compared to the boys he’d left at Grandma Tildy’s.
“I felt…almost dirty, in a way.” It was difficult to get the words out past the lump forming in his throat. “I’d done everything wrong – I’d run away without even leaving so much as a goodbye note, dodged all of society as much as possible so I wouldn’t be recognized and sent back – and suddenly it felt like I was being rewarded for that. I didn’t deserve what Bruce had given me. The boys at Grandma’s did. So, one night at dinner – I guess I’d been living there for a month – I asked Bruce if we could arrange for Grandma Tildy’s house to be a part of Wayne Charities. I told him I didn’t care if he used all the money he’d so generously set aside for me to use. I just wanted those boys to have nice things.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking back. He could see it like it had happened just the night before. Dinner had been shrimp scampi over angel hair pasta. Clark had been ravenous and eaten two platefuls. Bruce had chuckled over Clark’s appetite and Clark had made an off-handed comment about how great a cook Grandma had been. As the conversation had turned toward the subject of Grandma Tildy’s house, Clark had finally found the courage to ask Bruce if they could find a way to help the halfway house.
Use all the money you said you set aside for me, he’d offered, much to the amusement and silent approval of Bruce. Of course, Bruce hadn’t done so; he’d simply added on the halfway house as another part of Wayne Charities.
They need it way more than I do, Bruce.
Give me all the details, Clark. I’ll talk to Harriet in the morning making sure Grandma’s house gets on the list. Then you and I can go shopping for what you think they are most in need of. We can have a truck heading their way by the end of the week.
“That’s a really sweet gesture,” Lois commented, throwing a split-second glance at Clark while she navigated the Metropolis traffic, scattering his thoughts like a hand through a puff of smoke.
“Thanks,” he mumbled. “I guess Chen or someone contacted the charity about Grandma’s passing. The charity called Bruce, and he called me.” He looked up again and peered out the front windshield. “Hey…this isn’t the way back to my apartment,” he realized with a start.
“I know,” Lois said with a mischievous glint in her eye. “This is a shortcut back to my place. I want to grab my overnight bag before we head over to your place.” She bit her lower lip uncertainly and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear with one hand. “I thought…maybe you shouldn’t be alone tonight. Is…is that okay?”
Clark felt his heart nearly bursting with love for her. “It’s more than okay, Lois. I think it’s a great idea, actually. Grandma…she wasn’t a blood relative but…she may as well have been. Thank you, Lois.”
“Hey,” she shrugged casually, “what’s a girlfriend for, right?”
***
It didn’t take long for them to reach Clark’s apartment. For once, the traffic in Metropolis had been light, and most of the drivers had been rather well-behaved on the roads, with the exception of one or two cabbies and one clueless student driver. But the easy ride home hadn’t done much to improve Clark’s mood. Heartbreak still weighed heavily on his mind, suffocating his thoughts and obliterating his usual optimism. He only nodded his greetings to the neighbors he saw as Lois parked the Jeep and they walked the half-block to Clark’s apartment. If he’d been paying attention, he would have seen a few concerned looks being sent his way as the neighbors noted his subdued attitude and the look of gloom on his face.
“You can take the bed,” Clark told Lois as he opened the door to his apartment. “I’ll take the couch.”
“Oh, no, I wouldn’t dream of kicking you out of your own bed. I’ll take the couch,” Lois replied.
“Not a chance,” Clark insisted good-naturedly, finally finding a smile crossing his lips. “Both my mother and Grandma Tildy would give me an earful if I even entertained the idea of making a woman sleep on the couch.”
“Fine,” Lois agreed, but he could tell she was merely humoring him.
She’s incredible, he thought in wonderment. It never ceased to astound him how amazing Lois was and how much she really did love him.
For how long though?
Clark stepped inside, then closed and locked the door. “The bathroom is yours, if you want to shower or change. I’m going to start checking flights,” he told her, forcing his thoughts to the back of his mind.
“Are you sure? I can help,” Lois offered, setting her purse and overnight bag down on the couch.
He shook his head. “I’ll be fine. Go ahead and get comfortable. You want some coffee for when you come out?” he asked.
“Only if you’re having some too,” she replied after a moment’s hesitation.
“I’ll take that as a yes then,” he smiled encouragingly. “Go ahead. The bathroom’s all yours. I’ll have everything ready by the time you’re done.”
“Well…okay. Mind if I use your shower?” she asked with a blush. “It’s just…this new perfume. I can’t stand the smell of it. I need to get it off.”
Clark smiled. “Really? I thought it smelled nice. But sure, use whatever you need. There’s clean towels in the cabinet under the sink.”
She smiled back. “Thanks. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
He nodded and watched as she grabbed her bag and wandered toward his bathroom. He heard the door close, the lock snick into place, and the shower turn on. Then he focused on the tasks ahead, choosing to do the easiest ones first. The ore difficult ones could wait. Besides, he’d promised Lois he would have coffee waiting for her when she was done in the shower. So he made his way to the kitchen and got his coffeemaker started. Then he changed into more comfortable clothing at superspeed, before booting up his laptop. He began to check flight times and prices, finding a few that might work. But first he needed Perry to okay a few days off. He grabbed the cordless phone from the side table and dialed the Chief’s office, since it was early enough that he might still be there. Sure enough, Perry picked up on the second ring.
“Perry White,” he said gruffly, sounding distracted.
“Hey, Chief. It’s Clark,” Clark replied, flopping onto his couch.
“Oh, hey there, son,” Perry said, snapping to attention. “What’s going on?”
“I, uh…need a favor,” Clark hedged nervously, though he couldn’t eaxactly put his finger on why he was so nervous. Perry was the epitome of accommodating and understanding when it came to his employees’ personal lives. “I need to take a couple of days off, if possible.”
“Oh? What for?” Perry sounded curious, not nosy, to Clark’s trained ears.
“Someone I used to be close with died. I’d like to fly out to the funeral,” Clark explained quickly.
“Oh, Clark. I’m so sorry, son. Of course you take whatever time you need,” Perry said, his voice low and soft.
“It won’t be more than two or three says, depending on the flights,” Clark continued, just wanting to get the explanation over and done with. He felt tired. Tired of talking. Tired of thinking. Tired of feeling. It reminded him starkly of how emotionally draining his parents’ deaths and funeral had been. How much he’d wished he could have just a few minutes to stop hurting and feel nothing at all, just to recover some of his strength. “And, uh…Lois has offered to come with me. With your approval for time off, of course.”
Perry chuckled lightly in an almost fatherly way. “You’ve got yourself a good woman there, Clark. Tell her she’s more than welcome to take a few days too.”
“Thanks, Chief. She’s the best,” he agreed, relief flooding his heart, now that Perry had given them his blessing to take some time off. “We’re pretty caught up on all our investigations. We’re really just waiting for more information on the Luthor case. Although, there’s one thing we did want to talk to you about. An impending nurse strike…”
“Whoa, whoa! Hold on there for a second,” Perry replied, cutting Clark off gently. Clark could imagine Perry’s hands flying up in a “stop” gesture. “Don’t you worry about things. Just focus on yourself for a couple of days. The Planet will manage without you stressing about the stories you and Lois are pursuing.”
Clark felt another surge of relief. He hadn’t even realized he’d been so worried about their workload while they took a few personal days.
“Thanks, Perry. I really appreciate it.”
“Not a problem. You take care of yourself, you hear me?” Perry warned him, but there was warmth and a sense of familial love behind his words.
“Loud and clear, Chief. I’ll see you in a few days.”
He hung up the phone and turned back to his computer. First he emailed Perry the details about the strike that Ellen had told them about. Even if he and Lois weren’t assigned to the story – and Clark just assumed Perry would deem them to be too close to the story to allow them to handle it – Perry would have the information. Any of their coworkers would be more than able to get the story the spotlight it deserved. Then he went through the rest of his emails, deleting a healthy amount of junk mail before coming to Bruce’s message. His friend had emailed him the funeral arrangements, as promised. The wake would be held for two days. Clark presumed it would be to give everyone a chance to fly in for it. After all, over the years, Grandma Tildy had touched the lives of hundreds of boys, if not thousands.
Clark went back into the airline website and started searching in earnest. He found a late flight for the following night. It would mean he and Lois would miss the first day of the wake, but it would give them plenty of time to be there for the second day and the burial.
“Any luck?” Lois asked, entering into the living room a short time later, now clad in an old maroon Daily Planet t-shirt and a pair of soft black pajama pants, her hair still damp from a shower.
But whether she’d been gone for five minutes of five hours, Clark didn’t know. Time had seemed irrelevant while he’d been comparing flight times and prices. He hadn’t even been aware that the coffeemaker was ready.
“Some,” Clark answered, getting up and stretching his back. He made his way to the kitchen and began to fix their cups of coffee in their preferred ways. “I found a flight out that looks promising. I haven’t really checked the return flights yet.” He turned to her, holding out her mug to her. “I did, however, clear it with Perry, so we’re good to take some time off.” He leaned back against the counter in a relaxed stance, though his heart was pounding hard.
What will it be like, he wondered, to go back and see all those people again? What will it be like to see Chen again, this time in plainclothes? It was awkward enough as Superman.
“Thanks. I was actually just thinking I should call him as I was getting changed.” She took the cup of coffee Clark offered her and nodded as she held it cradled in both hands, as if drawing strength from the warmth it exuded. “Thanks,” she said, taking a sip. Her eyes closed in bliss. “I don’t know how you do it, but you always manage to fix the perfect cup of coffee.”
“It’s a matter of survival,” quipped easily. “I’m too afraid to incur the wrath of Mad Dog Lane if I give her a subpar drink.” He grinned, letting her know he was teasing.
Lois snorted and almost choked on the sip she’d taken, and Clark only hoped that she hadn’t managed to burn the inside of her mouth in the process. Swallowing it down, she laughed out loud. “Well, so far, you’ve done well. Mad Dog Lane is very pleased with your offerings.” She held up the mug in a mock salute.
“Good,” Clark said with a semi-serious nod. “I’d hate to be planning my own funeral while I try to get out to Grandma’s.” The joke was weak, he knew, but it made Lois smile a little anyway and it made him feel a little better to make an attempt at humor. “Let’s go sit, shall we?” He gestured to the couch with his free hand.
“Sure,” Lois said with a nod.
She led him to the couch, then sat catty-corner on the cushion, so she could see both the computer and Clark with ease. She studied his face for a moment as he sat and put his coffee down on the table before them. He knew he had to looked pained and probably weary as well and he wondered what Lois was thinking as she looked at him.
“Clark…do you want to talk?” she offered after a moment. “I know this is a hard time for you and…I just want you to know that my ear is open.”
Clark shrugged as a tiny smile ghosted across his lips. “Thanks, Lois. I appreciate it. But the truth is…there’s not much more to say. I just…I want to say my final goodbyes and then maybe you and I can finally have some time to ourselves.”
So I can probably break your heart.
So I can probably destroy all the dreams and wishes and prayers I have about making a life together with you.
“You just…you seem a little nervous, that’s all. As much as you seem upset, even,” Lois clarified, setting down her mug on the coffee table.
Clark knew he had to put her mind at ease. And there was no harm in telling Lois the truth.
Well, the edited truth, at any rate, he admonished himself.
“Okay…yes. I am a little nervous. I…I left the halfway house without even saying goodbye. And while Grandma Tildy might have forgiven me, I’m not entirely sure the others have,” he confessed quietly.
“Hey, who cares what they think?” Lois said, putting her hand on his back and rubbing it. “You aren’t going for them.”
“Yeah but…” Clark protested, “I still…I don’t want to upset anyone, that’s all.”
“I’ll be right there with you,” Lois promised as she squeezed his body in a tight hug. “If things get too hard we can always step out for a few minutes, right?”
Clark smiled, just the barest curving of his lips, feeling better about things. Lois was right. How bad could it possibly be with her by his side?
“Right,” he answered, squaring his shoulders and kissing the top of her head. “Okay, let’s get things booked.” He picked up his laptop from the table, scooted closer to Lois, and typed for a moment, bringing up return flights. “Are these flights okay?”
Lois scanned the screen in silence. “Looks good. Let’s get the earlier flight back though,” she said less than a minute later, pointing, her finger a hairsbreadth from the screen. “It gives us more time to relax and prepare to get back to work the next day. If you want to go back in the next day, that is,” she amended swiftly.
Clark nodded. “I do. There’s no sense in staying home. Especially not when we have the Luthor case going on,” he pointed out. Seeing Luthor be put in jail for life would make Clark’s world so much better. The multibillionaire would pay for every crime he’d ever committed, if Lois and Clark had any say in the matter. “We still have plenty to do before the case goes to trial. I think the police are relying on us as much as we’re relying on them to uncover all of Luthor’s crimes.”
“Absolutely,” Lois agreed with grim conviction.
“Okay, the earlier flight it is.”
He selected the flights in question, chose two seats next to each other, then paid, shooing away Lois’ offer to pay for her own fare. But Clark couldn’t allow her to pay. After all, she wasn’t going to this funeral for herself. She was going for him. It wouldn’t be right to ask her to pay for things. Next, they searched for a hotel room. Clark knew of a small, cozy bed and breakfast style place right in town. He searched for it and frowned.
“Only one room available,” he said, more to himself than to Lois.
“So?” Lois asked, shrugging, as she leaned against him comfortably. “Book it. We can share a room.”
“Are you sure?” he replied, turning a little toward her, uncertainty in his features. “We’ve never…I mean…you know. We’re only still dating and all…” He knew by the sudden heat in his neck that his entire face was scarlet in a blush.
Lois waved away his concerns. “I know. But it’s not like we’ve never shared close quarters before. We’ve stayed together for stakeouts,” she reasoned unperturbed.
“Yeah, but we didn’t have a choice in that,” Clark pointed out. “If you’d be more comfortable with your own room, we can try a different place.”
“Seriously, I’m fine with sharing,” Lois answered, a little more firmly, though still gently. “Just book it, before someone else grabs it.”
“Okay,” Clark said in surrender. With a barely perceptible shake in his hand, he moved his mouse over on the screen, clicked, and booked the room. “We’re all set.”
“Good,” Lois said, snuggling deeper into his side as he shut the lid of the laptop. “Let’s just relax for the rest of the night, okay?”
“Sounds perfect,” he agreed, leaning back into the back of the couch, luxuriating in the closeness to Lois.
Please, don’t ever let me lose her, he pleaded silently to the universe. You’ve taken almost everyone from me.
Clark snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. He buried his lips in her hair and kissed the top of her head, breathing in the flowery scent of her conditioner. “Thank you, Lois. For all of this. I’m not sure I could do this alone.”
“Clark, I love you. You’ll never have to do anything alone, ever again,” she murmured, stroking her fingers over the back of his hand.
“For a long time, I thought I’d be alone forever,” Clark mused in a hushed tone. He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips, then kissed her knuckles in an almost worshipful manner. “The winter I spent by myself in an abandoned cabin…I wondered if that was my fate. To always be on my own. Even after I went to Gotham, met Bruce, and started traveling the world for the Gazette…I was alone. I wanted a real relationship, to be in love. But, until I met you, that didn’t happen.” He gave her body a gentle squeeze, as if afraid she would evaporate into nothing more than a gossamer wisp of a dream if her held her too loosely.
“You know, I wasn’t much different,” Lois said in a hushed, dreamy sounding voice. “I dated, sure. But fell in love? That was rare for me and every time I did, it got thrown in my face. You’re the first man I’ve ever loved who hasn’t hurt me.”
A shot of guilt pierced his heart. “And I hope I never do.”
I already have, his mind taunted in reply.
To Be Continued…
