Title: Terms of Estrangement (3/5)
Author: angelic_editor
Rating: PG for mild language
Summary: Lois struggles to distance herself from Clark after her disastrous almost-wedding. Angst ensues.
Feedback: Better than chocolate, especially since this is the first fic I've ever posted. Be brutal, kids.
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine; the words are. Please don't take legal action, as poor college students aren't worth suing, anyway.
Miscellaneous: What started out as a short vignette has turned into a multi-part story, thanks to the amazing feedback from readers! I'm not sure how quickly this will evolve, but it's been a fun challenge to continue to tell this story. Seriously, guys, I can't thank you enough for your kind words of encouragement; I hope you enjoy.
Unravel me, untie this cord
The very center of our union is caving in
I can’t endure
I am the archive of our failure
— “Black and White,” Sarah McLachlan
Lois stared blankly at the television screen, scenes from Woman of the Year playing unheeded before her tear-filled eyes.
I hate this, she thought miserably, curling her legs beneath her on the couch. She pulled her oversize Metropolis University sweatshirt over her knees, picking at a stray thread.
I hate falling in love. I hate men. Especially Clark.
She sighed, knowing that wasn’t true.
No — I hate myself.
She couldn’t believe she’d been so stupid, so blind to her own actions. Her partner had slowly become an integral part of her life — he had been her best friend — and she’d ruined that by refusing to admit how important he was to her.
Actually, you ruined it that day in the park, the vindictive part of her brain argued. Remember? He told you he loved you. And you almost married Lex instead of telling him the truth.
Lois almost groaned out loud, reached for her lukewarm cup of decaf coffee, then thought the better of it.
She slumped against the couch, her gaze drifting over to the open window and the street-lit Metropolis night beyond.
Too bad Superman can’t save this kind of day.
* * * * *
Idiot, Clark berated himself, pacing outside Lois’ building. The whole point is to give her some space to breathe, to figure things out. Showing up here isn’t going to help anything.
He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Damned if I do, damned if I don’t,” he muttered under his breath.
“You okay there, son?”
Clark started at the unexpected voice. “I’m sorry?”
“Just wanted to make sure you’re all right,” the elderly passerby replied. He gestured toward the entrance to the apartment building with his walking cane. “Looks like you’re havin’ quite the dilemma.”
Clark chuckled — an uncharacteristically humorless, bitter laugh. “You might say that.”
The old man squeezed Clark’s shoulder. “Be good to her,” he offered with an understanding wink, turning to continue down the sidewalk. “That’s all that really matters.”
“Yeah — um, thanks,” Clark called after him.
He looked back at Lois' building, searching for answers he wouldn’t find in brick and mortar.
Be good to her?
Clark clenched his jaw.
All right, then.
And with that, he walked away.
* * * * *
Hot. Too hot.
Lois tossed on the couch, struggling to get more comfortable. Half asleep, she couldn’t understand why she wasn’t in bed, or why she was drenched in sweat.
Window’s open, she thought fuzzily. Maybe it’s my sweatshirt.
Eyes still closed, she tugged half-heartedly at the hem.
Light flickered behind her closed lids. She winced.
Too bright. Thought I turned off Hepburn and Tracy.
She smelled smoke.
Lois gasped and sat up, fully awake in a nanosecond.
“No!”
She recoiled from the terrifying scene before her. Angry yellow and red flames engulfed her kitchen — and they were licking their way toward the couch.
Lois stared at the destructive play of shadow and light for a long moment, transfixed.
Oh, my God.
“Help!”
* * * * *
Clark couldn’t remember flying so fast, so hard, nothing more than a blue-red blur against the grey, pre-dawn sky.
He raced toward Lois, his stomach knotted with fear, with dread.
Be okay, he willed. You have to be okay.
He was nearly there.
Because I love you.
* * * * *
“Th-thank you,” Lois stammered into Clark’s spandex-clad shoulder, her arms still tight around his neck. “For — for everything.”
Clark nodded mutely before he realized Lois couldn’t hear that.
“You’re welcome,” he said, his lips close to her ear.
Lois shivered at his nearness.
You would’ve loved this just weeks ago, she thought sadly. Being held, comforted, by this man.
But thoughts of Clark had crowded her consciousness, forcing her to reevaluate this immature Superman fantasy she’d foolishly held close for so long.
Clark — God, I wish you were here.
She let her arms slide from Superman’s neck, eyes riveted on the scorched hardwood floor.
She stood before him, looking so lost that Clark physically ached.
He placed his hands on Lois’ upper arms and stepped back to study her soot-streaked face.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked gently.
She nodded absently.
“I think — um, I think so,” she replied woodenly, taking in the charred remnants of her kitchen and the ugly black streaks seared onto the walls.
“Superman, you’re shaking,” she said in surprise, looking down at his hands still gripping her upper arms. “Is everything all right?”
Startled, it took him a moment to process her words.
He looked down and stilled his trembling hands, then let them fall to his sides.
Watch it, he warned himself. You’re just the hero — you’re not yourself right now.
“I’m fine, Lois,” he reassured her. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”
She chortled.
“And I’m just glad you make house calls.”
She nearly managed the glib retort, but her voice broke on the last word.
Tears filled her eyes and her chin trembled.
She covered her mouth with one hand, horrified at the thought of becoming a sobbing mess in front of Superman.
“I — I’m sorry,” she whispered, turning away from his kind brown eyes. “It’s just — I — I can’t even turn off a stupid coffee maker. I created this … this … ”
She gestured angrily at the still-smoking mess of her kitchen.
“I’m beginning to think I’m a failure at life,” she whispered brokenly.
Clark frowned and took a step toward her.
“That’s not true, Lois,” he said softly. “You’re so good at what you do. You’ve won awards, I’ve seen them — ”
Lois shook her head.
But I’m not good at what really counts, she thought. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs.
Clark wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms. But he didn’t. Couldn’t. Not without losing himself.
“Lois?” he asked hesitantly.
She couldn’t speak. Her breath came in shallow bursts. Her lungs were burning.
She shook her head and swallowed hard, forcing herself to regain control of her breathing. “I’m fine. Really, I’m fine.”
Clark narrowed his eyes.
“You don’t look so fine.”
Lois forced a humorless laugh, looking down at her two-sizes-too-big grey sweatshirt and black leggings. She absently fingered her messy ponytail.
“Sorry it’s not exactly formal attire,” she said. “If I’d known I was going to burn my kitchen down, I’d have dressed for the occasion.”
Clark stepped closer. “That’s not what I meant, Lois.”
She looked up at him questioningly.
Don’t do it. Don’t, he warned himself, but was unable to keep from touching Lois.
He cradled her cheek in his hand.
When Lois closed her eyes, a tear slipped down her cheek.
Clark felt his heart constrict.
“I meant you seem unhappy, not that you’re a case for the fashion police,” he said gently, hooking an errant strand of dark hair behind her ear.
Lois opened her eyes and took a shaky breath.
“Oh,” she replied in a small voice, stepping backward.
Knew it was a bad move — idiot, Clark chastised himself. Be the hero, not the man.
“Is there anything I can do, Lois?” he asked after a long pause, his tone hopeful. “Get you something, take you somewhere?”
Clark. Take me to Clark, she wanted to say. He’ll make this better. He’ll make me better.
But the words lodged in her throat, leaving a dry, sour taste.
Unrequited love, she thought bitterly.
“Um — y’know,” she managed, “I really am okay. Thanks for everything, Superman, but I’ll be fine.”
Without Clark, she told herself sternly. He doesn’t need to deal with my problems.
She stifled a sigh and met Superman’s unreadable gaze.
“The fire’s out, so I can take things from here.”
Clark set his jaw and nodded, feeling like he’d just taken a Kryptonite-packed punch.
You really don’t need me at all.
“All right, Lois,” he said finally. “If you’re sure.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” she said, her tone forcibly bright. “Thanks again.”
Clark fought down a grimace and gave her a small smile.
“It’s really no problem,” he said, “but you’re welcome. Be safe, Lois.”
She returned his smile, ducking her head a little in embarrassment. “I’ll do my best.”
Clark floated toward the window. Just before he flew out, he turned back to Lois.
“If you need anything … ” he said, trailing off.
Lois nodded. “I know — you’ll be here.”
Clark nodded jerkily, swallowing hard.
More than you know, he thought sadly, flying out and away.
