Sorry, everyone, about the technical problem! I KNEW this chapter was long! Anyway, here's what got split off. Thanks for your patience!
***
What If...She Stayed?
***
***
They go out on a story together. Truthfully, Clark recruits Perry to his cause and then almost drags Lois with him, but he doesn’t regret it, not when she picks up on something he missed and starts trying to break into a section of dockyard that’s closed up.
“I don’t know why you think they’d be stupid enough to hide the stuff instead of get rid of it,” he says as he surreptitiously tugs the chain-link fence open for her.
She stares down as the padlock bounces to the floor before she shrugs and slips inside. “Trust me, Clark, most people don’t think they’re ever going to get caught. They don’t want to think about it, so they don’t, and that’s where they get tripped up.” She frowns abruptly. “And anyway, you don’t have to come if you don’t think that--”
“I think you’re right,” he interrupts her, and slides ahead so that he can guide her down the aisle that will hide them from the guard he hears up ahead.
Unfortunately, Lois stumbles right into the guard a bit later. They run and manage to lose him when Clark knocks some canisters over, but when he tries to convince Lois to head back, she digs her heels in.
“No, we’re already here, Clark! I’m not leaving until we get some evidence we can use to actually run this story.”
“That might not be the only guard here, Lois! This story isn’t worth your life.”
“Why are you always like this?” she demands as she rifles through the filing cabinet. “You always have to think everything through a hundred times before you make a decision--really, you’re so small-minded sometimes!”
“I am not!” he protests as he zaps the security camera in the corner of the ceiling with a shot of heat-vision. “And even if I am, it’s only because I’m trying to counter your impulsiveness! You don’t even bother breaking the rules--you just throw away the entire rulebook!”
“Nobody cares about rules, Clark. See?” She shows him the file she snatched before shoving it in her bag. “If we’d let a couple signs and some dumb rules stop us, we’d never be able to stop people like this.”
“There’s more than one way to stop--” Suddenly, Clark grabs her elbow. “Wait. Stop. What did you say?”
“I said, I found it. Now let’s get out of here--or did you want to stand around and wait until we get caught?”
Clark hurries her through the twisting maze of shipping containers, his heart pulsing like a strobe light. As soon as they’re out of the fence and a turn away, he grabs her again.
“Lois, did you hear what you said earlier? You said that I’m always like this. How would you know that unless you remembered?”
“I…” Her eyes fall away from his as she shifts her weight. “It’s…it’s just a figure of speech. I was caught up in the argument.”
“No, you…” He backs up a step, staring at her. “But you were using the same argument you used to. You said that--”
“It didn’t mean anything, Clark, I’m sorry.”
“But, Lois, you are remembering things and--”
“I don’t want to remember!” she cries, backing away from him.
Clark is speechless. He can’t speak. Can’t breathe. Can’t think.
“Oh,” is all he can say.
Lois’s body sags, and an instant later, she’s approaching him, reaching out with trembling hands. “Wait, Clark, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“How did you mean it then? Exactly?”
“I…I meant, I don’t think that I can be the person I was before. I don’t think I want to be her.”
“Why not?”
But she doesn’t answer, and Clark doesn’t know how to interpret that (how to interpret any of it except in the worst possible way, the only way that seems to fit).
They drive back to the Planet, and Lois writes the story, and Clark wonders what his life will look like without her in it.
***
“Clark, let’s get some dinner.” Lois is standing at his desk with a determined expression on her face. He’d ducked out for most of the day to be Superman (to pretend Superman isn’t just as affected by this as Clark), but he’s still not really working. It’s a good thing Perry’s being so lenient with him considering the circumstances.
“Sure,” he says. “Where did you want to go?”
“Back home,” she says firmly (a bolt of lightning pierces his heart at her calling his apartment that, even if it’s just because she doesn’t have anywhere else to go). “We’ll grab something to go. I think we need to talk.”
Clark hasn’t been able to think of anything else since that morning. Options and possibilities and nightmarish scenarios have run through his head non-stop, but now that it seems she’s going to give him the whole truth, he doesn’t think he wants to know. He almost thinks that it will be easier just dreading the worst than to have it actually confirmed.
Except…he’s done this before. Been afraid to say anything, afraid to shake up status quo and maybe lose her. Put off confessing everything and placing everything on the line. But when he finally did, she said yes. Yes to a date and yes to him being Superman and yes to a wedding.
And he’s just desperate enough to consider that maybe this will be another moment turned from nightmare to dream in Lois’s hands.
***
While Lois finishes cleaning up the dinner they hardly touched, Clark walks out onto his balcony. He hides the shaking of his hands by sticking them in his pockets. The sky’s dark above him, and because he is who he is, he can see stars glittering above the aura of light Metropolis exudes. He remembers all the times he’s floated up there, separate from the earth. And he remembers taking Lois up there, tied to this world he loves so dearly by her acceptance and her love. Now, seeing their cold beauty above him, he can’t quite decide if that sliver of sky is his refuge (from whatever Lois has to tell him) or his prison (when it is all that is left to him).
“Clark, I’m not trying to push you out of my life.”
At Lois’s voice, he turns to face her. She steps out onto the balcony, her arms wrapped around herself, her hair backlit by the light from inside. In contrast, he knows he stands in shadow, an unknown figure she’s trusted so openly even though she can’t remember him.
“After this morning,” she continues, “I did some thinking and realized that’s how it must look to you. And I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you think that. In fact, you might not believe this, but I was trying not to hurt you.”
“What do you mean?” He clenches his hands into fists within the concealment of his pockets. He should have sent her to that medical facility. He should have realized he couldn’t help her. “I know that I’ve…I’ve dumped a lot on you, and it’s completely understandable if you want space. You don’t know me, and--”
“I do know you, Clark.” She takes a tentative step nearer him. “You’re right. I have been remembering some things. But…but I don’t know why you wouldn’t want to forget them. I remember you telling me you loved me, and I blew you off for…” She looks away. “I remember comparing you to Superman, a lot, and not in a nice way. I remember getting asked out by some guy and looking over to your desk and seeing you really hurt and still saying yes anyway. I remember a lot of things, Clark, and I can’t understand why you asked that woman to marry you.”
Clark’s heart softens and turns pliable, his hands uncurling and reaching out for her as he takes a step closer. “Lois, no, that’s…that’s not everything. There’s so much more, so much better. If you remembered everything, you’d--”
“I think I was cheating on you, Clark,” and she’s crying now, her voice breaking, her shoulders hunching inward, and Clark can’t hold back any longer. He’s there, wrapping his arms around her, cradling her close, breathing her in and hoping his presence comforts her rather than frightens her.
“No, Lois, no, you would never do that.”
“I remember kissing Superman--and I know I had a crush on him to begin with, but he kissed my hand, Clark, and I was wearing your engagement ring, and I told him I loved him, and he…he flirts with me, and I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Clark, I can’t believe I would do that to you, I can’t believe I was the type of person who would hurt the man who loves me and--”
“Lois, I’m Superman.”
It’s so easy. So simple. The three words roll right off his tongue and fall, plop, plop, plop, between them.
He can tell the instant she processes them. Her sobs pause, her breath catches in her throat, her shoulders still beneath his hands.
“I’m Superman,” he says again.
(And this is all his fault, again.)
“You…” Lois backs up, step by step until his hands fall away from her and she stands alone.
(And he knew this was coming, didn’t he, when he broke his promise and lied to her all over again with the Suit between them.)
“I’m sorry, Lois, I meant to tell you, really, but you were learning so much already and it’s a huge secret and I didn’t want to mess your life up when you were trying to--”
“So you let me think I was cheating on you!” she cries.
Clark winces. “Well, I didn’t actually know that’s what you were thinking, but…”
“But I trusted Clark, and I didn’t trust Superman.” Lois sighs and shakes her head. “Clark, I can’t believe this. All this time, I was so afraid that…that I’d hurt you so badly and you didn’t even know it. I thought, here you were, helping me, standing by me, and I’d been sneaking around behind your back. It made me afraid to remember you, because I didn’t want to remember what I must have thought in order to be able to cheat on you.”
“So that’s why you didn’t want to be the Lois from before?” he asks. “That’s what all that talk of clean breaks and new beginning was about?”
“Yeah.” She sighs again. “So, all this time, all those memories I’ve been having…they were all you. You’re the one who said you’d take me flying any time, and you saved me from that thug.”
“I’m sorry.” He closes his eyes (wonders if, given the opportunity to do this a hundred times, he would ever get it right). “I promised you that I wouldn’t lie to you and then I…I did.”
“Yeah.” Lois tilts her head, and if he didn’t know better, he’d think there was a smile hidden at the edges of her mouth. “But…I guess I can understand why. It’s a pretty big secret, and as much as I’m trying to adjust, I guess I’m not really 100 percent yet.”
“I should have trusted you anyway. I should have told you. I’m sorry, Lois.”
“I’m sorry, too. I should have just told you what I was remembering. I told you I trusted you and then I didn’t.”
“You don’t know me,” he reminds himself. “And I know it’s a lot to--”
“Clark, you know how you keep me telling me that I am Lois, that I’m the same woman you know?” At his nod, she does smile. “Well, then I wish you’d believe me when I say that I do know you. I mean, aside from the whole red-and-blue thing, you’re kind of an open book.”
He blinks at her (but his own mouth can’t help but echo her smile). “I am? It didn’t take you very long to figure me out.”
“Well, you’re not very good at hiding from me.” She lifts a hand and runs it over his shoulder (Clark’s absolutely motionless, afraid of scaring her off). “You’re kind and hopeful and good. And I…I don’t need memories to love you.”
Clark’s begun to expect the pain of random moments, begun to get used to the way they slice through him. But this…this is different. The very opposite of pain, it’s so strong, so overwhelming, that his entire body seizes up at the flash of hope. The burst of happiness.
“And I love you,” he says (it explodes out of him, unable to be repressed any longer).
She tips her head up. Her eyes flutter closed. And Clark doesn’t let himself overthink this.
He bends down and slides a hand through her hair and kisses her.
He kisses her as if it is the first time. As if it is the last time. As if it is the only time. As if it is all that he is here to do, sent millions of miles through space, hurtling through explosions and void just for this moment. This woman. This feeling.
(He kisses her, and he knows that even if she never gets all her memories back, this is enough. This is love and trust and hope and faith.)
When they finally part, Lois leans her forehead against his, a long shudder running through her body. Clark’s eyes flutter closed for a moment before he opens them to watch as a smile turns her more radiant than the stars so cold and distant.
“Oh, Clark,” she whispers, “I can’t believe I almost lost you.”
“You could never lose me,” he whispers back. “Even if you were trying to push me out of your life, I’d still love you.”
“No, I mean…” She opens her eyes and looks at him (there’s something shining there). She raises a hand to cup his cheek (there’s something heated in the touch). She tightens her embrace (there’s something so familiar about all of this). “I remember my life before you, Clark, when being alone was what I thought I wanted. And I remember my life after you, when I learned loving you was what I really wanted.”
Clark draws back. He’s sure he’s dreaming. He’s sure this is all going to fade in a moment and he will be standing here alone second-guessing every decision he’s ever made.
But she doesn’t fade, just smiles wider, shines brighter.
“You really remember? Everything?” he asks.
In answer, she kisses him until he feels himself spiraling loose and free (and they are spiraling, floating through air high above his apartment).
Her lips meet his and part only because her smile breaks the kiss.
“I do,” she says (she vows).
And Clark doesn’t even remember what pain feels like next to the joy eclipsing everything else. He can’t remember what it’s like to be alone, to be afraid, to be set apart. But he remembers Lois. He remembers the feel of her, the taste of her, the rightfulness of her in his life.
“I love you,” he promises (reaffirms his own vows).
She smiles. She hums (a low, contented sound in the back of her throat).
“Clark,” she murmurs.
She knows him.
(And this he will never forget.)
***
