Chapter 10
For the first time in days, Clark woke up feeling rested. It took a moment or so as consciousness returned to him for Clark to remember where he was and why. A hesitant smile spread across his face and he glanced down to see Lois' body pressed tightly against his chest fast asleep.
It was almost too good to be true. He would have pinched himself if he wasn't invulnerable. As it was, the only real proof he had that he wasn't dreaming was the memory of the night before still present in his mind both physically and emotionally.
He was almost afraid to move, lest the beautiful brunette in his arms disappear.
He'd made love to her. He'd made love to Lois, and the world hadn't ended. He hadn't truly realised how truly broken he'd been until last night. His mind flashed back to the night before and that feeling of complete desolation--as if his entire world was crumbling like the roof of that shopping mall.
He'd never been so affected by a rescue or so certain that his attempts to have a life beyond the suit were so futile. Life had started to feel so empty, and he'd had so much guilt.
And he still did. The deaths of the people he'd been unable to save still weighed heavy on his conscience but so too did the fact that Lois had been there. She'd seen him at his absolute lowest and instead of letting him push her away, she'd pulled him closer.
For once, he felt like she'd finally seen him--really seen him. Not his secret identity of course, but the man behind the cape. The man who walked a tightrope between two worlds--a tightrope that had in recent days been fraying more and more.
Last night it had snapped and she had been there to pick up the pieces.
It was everything he could have hoped for and more and all he wanted to do was stay in this bed, in this dimly lit motel room in the early hours of the morning, replaying the events of the night before kiss by kiss and sigh by sigh. Every touch, every caress had been a balm to his wounded psyche.
Lois. His Lois. The only woman he'd ever truly fallen in love with and the one woman he never thought he'd have. But last night she had wanted him just as much as he wanted her. He hadn't realised it could be like that.
She was still here. He'd woken up with her in his arms twice in as many hours, and now he wasn't sure he could live without that feeling.
Would he have to? Could they make this work after all? He desperately wanted to believe that, but the remnants of last night were still with him. Images of charred corpses warred with the memories of Lois' body lit only by moonlight as he loved her.
Had anything really changed? And yet, even as he thought that, Lois shifted against him, and he immediately felt the dark thoughts recede. He had needed her last night in a way that was beyond sexual.
She had been his shield against the darkness. He'd saved a lot of people as Superman, but Lois Lane had rescued him. He wasn't sure how to repay that, but he was cautiously optimistic that maybe, just maybe, she would let him spend the rest of his life trying.
She moved against him again--a soft, contented sigh, and he felt her lightly run her hand down his chest. Though she was asleep, Clark was suddenly very much awake.
He was suddenly paralyzed with uncertainty. He'd never been with anyone before--not like this. Not so completely. And while he had allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to go to bed with Lois, he had never allowed himself to consider what it would be like to wake up with her.
Should he get up first? Have a cold shower so as not to alarm her with his body's natural response to her? Or, should he give into the urge to kiss her awake in the hopes of an encore performance of last night's events? What was considered polite morning-after protocol?
Another shift and her leg was now draped over him.
He drew in a sharp breath and rolled onto his side so that he was facing Lois. The loss of her touch was both relief and torture. He gazed at her sleeping form for what seemed like an eternity, watching her sleep, her breathing a soft and even rhythm. She had an almost unearthly beauty that he very rarely got to see her this way--soft, innocent, and still. The Lois he knew in his waking life was a force of nature--constantly in motion. It was one of the things he both loved and cursed at times.
Before he could stop himself, he leaned forward and placed a featherlight kiss on her lips. She stirred again and he felt his heart skip a beat as her eyes fluttered open and she drank in the sight of him.
A contented and languid smile crossed her lips. Her hair was tousled in a way that was both endearing and incredibly sexy, and Clark found himself smiling as well despite himself.
"Good morning," he said, his voice sounding far huskier than he intended. She didn't seem to mind, however, and he found himself short of breath as she urged his arms around her once more.
"Good morning to you too," she said, her voice light, breathy, and so very sensual.
He wanted to kiss her. Needed to kiss her. He should be satisfied--especially after last night, but instead, he felt like he would never be able to get enough of her. It was like she’d awoken something dormant inside him and he found his body respond to her without permission from his brain.
“Did you...sleep well?” He asked.
Way to go, Kent, he said to himself. Very smooth.
“Well enough,” Lois said and Clark couldn’t help but think she looked a bit like the cat that had just swallowed the canary. He swallowed nervously.
“Well enough for what?” he found himself asking, though his voice was slightly higher pitched than normal, and his hand had begun tracing slow, lazy circles against her lower back, completely of its own volition. Her skin was so incredibly soft, and Clark wanted to kiss every single inch of it.
“Round two,” Lois whispered and kissed him. The kiss was soft--gentle even, but it was enough to ignite the fire that had already been simmering inside him ever since he’d woken up. His arms tightened around her and he reveled in the way even a simple touch could awaken every nerve ending in his body.
Would it ever stop? This wanting her? Or would the need simply increase every time they made love?
Part of him hoped that would be the case, and the other part wondered how anybody ever got anything done if it always felt like this.
He felt the kiss deepen on its own and he reached up with one hand and cupped the back of her head as they explored the depths of one another’s mouths.
The room was silent but for the sounds of soft sighs, whimpers, and moans. He didn’t want to move from this spot. This beautiful place of desire and fulfillment. It felt as if she were able to touch parts of his soul he’d thought forever damaged. He allowed himself to let go and surrender to her--to the love she offered--the only thing that could save him.
When they had recovered, she laid her head against his chest and kissed him with the same tenderness as before. He let out a deep sigh. How had he gotten so lucky? Was this going to last? She’d already shown him more mercy than he ever thought possible. A lump formed in his throat. How would she feel once she knew? The question haunted him, even in this, the most beautiful of moments.
And for that reason he was in no hurry to move, or even to speak. Something inside him told him to hold onto this moment for as long as he possibly could.
He felt like he’d been desperately holding onto her for the past two years--clinging to her, counting on her compassion and friendship to see him through even the darkest nights. For a while, it had worked. He’d seen the darkest elements of humanity--had failed people in his attempts to rescue them and always, he turned to Lois. She’d smile at him, lean her head against him, laugh at a joke he told, and his heart would patch itself up. Not completely, not fully. But enough.
Enough to allow him to put whatever failures he’d experienced behind him. Enough to push the nightmares to the back of his mind for the time being.
And then Mayson had died and he found himself no longer able to do that. Not even Lois' smile was enough to keep the demons at bay.
So where did that leave him now? He couldn’t continue to lead her on like this. Not now. Not after she’d allowed him to love her...maybe even loved him back. She deserved the truth.
“Clark?” Lois’ voice was muffled and warm against his chest. He tried to ignore the emotions coursing through him. She sounded happy and sated. He had dreamed of this so many times. “What time is it?”
“It’s after ten," he said.
“Really?” She spoke slowly, regretfully. “I suppose that means we should get up.”
Up? Clark realised he hadn’t even thought of what the world would look like in the light of day outside this bedroom. All he could see right here, right now was Lois. He made a noncommittal sound but neither of them made any effort to move.
“Does this mean getting out of bed?” he asked softly. She laughed and his maudlin thoughts vanished like smoke.
“You want to stay here all day?” she asked quietly. And he was surprised at how badly he wanted to say yes. He’d never experienced anything like this. His previous experiences had never gotten this far, and he’d been content with it to be that way. He'd never let it happen for so many reasons--the most important of which had been the potentially disastrous consequences if he’d allowed himself to lose control. With Lois he’d experienced that loss of control. He’d sought it out. Needed it.
Oh, God. Fear suddenly swept through him like an ice cold wave.
He’d lost control. They had lost control. Last night and this morning, they had fallen into each other’s arms and hadn’t used any sort of protection.
His chest suddenly felt tight and he had trouble breathing. How could he do this? He knew better. Damn it, he knew better. What would he do if she was pregnant? How could he possibly handle fatherhood when everything was so hard right now?
And Lois...she’d never expressed any sort of desire to be a mother, much less a mother of a child who wasn’t even fully human. How would she feel if she were pregnant?
“Clark?” Lois sounded concerned. She must have felt him tense up. “What’s the matter?”
“We didn’t…” he struggled to get the words out and he knew how he must have sounded. “We didn’t use anything...a condom. Last night...this morning…”
“It’s okay,” she said, placing a calming hand on his chest. “I’m on birth control. I should have told you last night, but everything was so...It’s okay.”
But it wasn’t okay. Even if she wasn’t pregnant, Clark never should have allowed himself to fall apart like that--to take that kind of risk with her future...and possibly with her life. After all, whose to say a human woman could even give birth to a Kryptonian child?
What if he…?
No, she wasn’t pregnant. He could at least feel reassured about that. But suddenly what had felt like a bright and hopeful morning seemed to close in on him again. He’d almost made a terrible mistake and Lois would have paid the price.
“We...should get up,” he said, his voice sounding foreign to his own ears. “Check the news.”
He wasn't sure why, but he felt an almost irresistible need to get an update on the fire--to make sure everything was as he had left it. And, if he could, maybe go and do a quick fly over under the guise of getting breakfast. It was like an itch he couldn't scratch and it suddenly overrode all over priorities--even the woman in his arms.
He sat up, before she could protest and almost gasped at the loss of contact when Lois moved off of him. Clothes. He needed clothes. She looked confused but not upset. He wasn’t actually sure what to make of the look she was giving him--curiosity mixed with something he couldn't define. Like she was reading his face, scanning for something...
Crap. Glasses!
All this time, he hadn't had his glasses on. He scrambled to find them on the nightstand and put them on. He suddenly felt very nervous. She seemed like she was considering her next words carefully which was quite unlike her.
Was she going to tell him she loved him? Was she about to come to the conclusion this wouldn’t work between them? Part of him felt it would be easier if she did. He could handle his own pain, but he wasn’t sure he could bear hers.
“The news can wait,” Lois said. “I think we need to talk about what just happened.” Clark had already gotten out of bed and was searching haphazardly around the room for his clothing, a bed sheet pulled around his waist for modesty.
Kind of pointless now, isn't it? his inner voice chided, and Clark tried to ignore the blush that filled his cheeks as he roughly shoved a pair of jeans on. There was certainly no mystery left between either of them.
“We will,” he replied, looking everywhere in the room but at her. The rustle of clothing on the other side of the bed told him that she, too, was getting dressed. She was right. They couldn’t ignore the conversation forever. “I just think I should get us something to eat first. I thought I saw a diner nearby. I could be back in a few minutes. Maybe try and find out if the road has opened back up.”
He was babbling, which was normally her territory. Before she could respond, he found the knob for the clock radio and searched through the static until he found a station delivering the latest news update.
"Things took an unexpected turn in Callan County last night when a shift of the wind caused a relatively contained forest fire to flare to life once more. Several homes caught fire in the nearby village of Blythe, with ten deaths reported from the blaze. All remaining residents in Blythe have escaped, but fire crews remain on scene and are working tirelessly to…."
The voice faded away as the enormity of the news struck him square in the chest like an anvil. Bits and pieces of the news report pierced him like daggers as he fought to process what he’d just heard.
<Several homes caught fire...ten deaths reported…a shift of the wind caused a relatively contained forest fire….>
No. Please, no. Not this. Anything but this.
Clark felt panic rise in his chest, and he was vaguely aware of the fact that Lois was speaking to him, her voice higher pitched and slightly urgent in tone. He had no idea what she was saying, however, as he sank down onto the hotel bed, and fought to keep her from seeing the way his hands were trembling.
It was too much. He should have been there. He should have heard something. How long had it taken for these people to lose their lives? Ten seconds? Longer? He’d allowed himself so much time last night to forget--too much time. How much of that time cost those people their lives?
And what if the wind shifted again?
That panicked thought snapped him back to reality and he realised he needed to go--needed to get to the scene and see if he could help. He couldn’t just stay here.
But how on Earth could he leave? After everything that had happened between them. Every touch, every sigh, every whispered endearment. Could he really just walk out on her?
Again?
She would never forgive him. What's more, she would never talk to him again. He would lose more than a potential relationship. He would lose his partner. His best friend.
His light in the dark.
How would he find his way home without her?
He had to do something and he felt his fight or flight response shift to flight.
“...are you okay?” Her voice pierced through the haze. “Clark? Clark, talk to me!”
“I’m fine,” he said, though he knew he sounded anything but. “Look, it’s late and we need to get on the road, so why don’t I go get breakfast? What are you thinking? Dunkin' Donuts? Whatever you want.”
He was already inching towards the door. Lois inched towards him almost as if he were a frightened animal she didn’t want to spook.
“I don’t want breakfast,” she was saying softly. “I want to talk.”
“We will, Lois,” he insisted, his voice slightly strangled. He felt hot and sweaty--like the walls were closing in on him. He had to get out. “I just…I have to go….”
“Forget breakfast,” Lois said, a little firmer this time. Clark edged backwards again.
“Lo-is,” he said, his voice a soft plea. Something in Lois’ expression shifted and she crossed the room swiftly towards him. Before he could understand what was happening, she put her hand gently on his chest in a gesture of comfort and understanding.
“It’s okay, Clark,” she murmured, her expression deep and fathomless and oh-so-loving. “You can’t help them. They’re gone. I’m sorry.”
