Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Anchor: Part I -- Clark Kent (40-43/51)

I don’t think. I just act.

I speed down toward Nigel, grab him by one arm, and brace myself against the ledge of the roof as his feet slip off over the edge. Pain engulfs me as the kryptonite chunks in his ring contact my arm, and I groan with effort as all my strength seeps out of me. I cannot hold him; I am not strong enough. But I try. I grip his arm, and my fingers dig into the wall of the ledge to keep myself from going over the edge with him. Pain radiates through my body, and I feel myself curling up, my grip loosening, as my body retreats instinctively from the source of the discomfort.

As I realize I cannot stop it, I cannot hold him, some frantic, terrible sound escapes my lips, and his arm slips from mine.

I tumble backwards on the roof, my head knocking against the rough ground and my hands stinging as I try to catch myself. But the immediate relief from pain as the kryptonite moves farther away from me clears my mind, and my head turns sharply toward the ledge.

From extensive experience timing the speed of falling objects as I race in to save the day, I know I have only maybe five seconds before he reaches the ground from this height. Only five seconds. And from extremely limited experience, I strongly suspect that kryptonite in his ring was not the modified version. I can already feel my keen senses returning as the kryptonite is out of range.

Maybe I can still save him.

Time seems to slow down around me as I quickly test out my ability to fly, and with effort, I push myself off the ground a few inches. I grimace. This won’t be fast enough.

Four seconds.

My mind races in an attempt to formulate a plan as I launch off the side of the building, veering away from him a safe distance. For a terrifying moment, I flail, unable to precisely control my flight. However, I recover rapidly and hurl myself down in a wide arc, toward the ground.

Three seconds.

I hold my breath as I swerve underneath him, still from a safe distance. My feet hit the ground a little too hard, and the cement of the sidewalk shatters under my boots, sending a wave of pain through my legs and back. I’m vaguely aware of Lois, Clark, Bill Henderson, and several police officers nearby, all of them in various states of alarm, staring up at the man falling down from the roof. However, I have no time to consider them right now. I take a deep breath.

Two seconds.

With every ounce of energy I have, I release the breath I’m holding, blowing upward to rapidly slow his fall, while hopefully maintaining my distance. I falter as he continues falling. Maybe my current low-power state isn’t enough. He’s almost too close; another few milliseconds and I’ll have nothing left as the kryptonite will be too close.

I try harder, my lungs burning with the effort.

To my great relief, his fall slows.

Time speeds back up around me. He is floating, about fifty feet above me, on a cloud of wind created by my breath. Carefully controlling the wind I’ve created, I move him toward the police cars. I’m now quite aware of Clark’s position as well as mine, and I hesitate as I try to navigate without getting Nigel too close to Clark. He and Lois seem to realize my predicament, and they back out of the way as Nigel’s cloud of wind floats him over and then sets him down, rather roughly I’m afraid, right at the feet of the three police officers who had just exited their vehicles.

And then I stagger backward with exhaustion, barely managing to keep myself upright.

Time’s up.

No one died.





Fifteen minutes later, I land lightly in front of Bill Henderson, who sits on a gurney as an EMT attempts to clean and bandage his wounds. His wife and son jump out of my arms and hurry to his side, tears of joy and relief staining their cheeks. As they embrace, he raises his eyes to meet mine; I see his guilt and gratitude, and I nod at him, silently communicating that I hold no grudge against him. Nigel had indeed kidnapped Bill’s family and threatened to kill them unless he helped Nigel weaken me using the modified kryptonite the night before. There was no winning for him in that situation; he’d only done what he felt he had to do to protect his family, and I can respect that. I turn away from their reunion and take in the rest of the scene.

Lois is being grilled by two detectives, her arms crossed defiantly over her chest. I chuckle inwardly as I hear the tail end of one of her responses, which contains several curse words directed at Nigel, who is now handcuffed and restrained in the back of one of the police cruisers. Clark sits on the curb where Bill had been a few minutes prior, his hands clasped together against his knees and his dark eyes trained on the older man who almost killed his fiancée.

Rage. Rage fills him. He senses me watching him, and his head turns sharply toward me. Not all of his anger is directed at Nigel, no—a good bit is also meant for me. And he doesn’t hide it.

“He tried to kill her. You should have let him die.” The thought pierces into my skull almost painfully, and I slowly shake my head in response, my eyes not leaving his.

That’s not what I do. You know that.

His anger just grows, and I hear him growl deep in his throat as he tears his eyes away to stare again at the pavement in front of him.

“I want to kill him.”

I feel him hesitate then, and he looks back up at me. His expression has changed. Now he looks almost…scared?

“I need to get out of here. Away from him. Now. Before I do something that I can’t take back.”

And I understand. I nod to him and then glance to where Lois still talks animatedly with the police. She’ll probably be a few more minutes still. I take a step toward him and motion to him to join me.

I can take you back to the apartment and then come back to get her.

He doesn’t move. Instead, he hesitates again as his eyes drift to Lois. “I don’t want to leave her.”

You can trust me. I’ll drop you off and come right back here.

Animosity fills him. He can’t control it, I know, but the feeling is so strong that I back away a step.

“I don’t trust you,” he snarls in my mind. Something snaps inside of him. “You almost let her die. And you let her would-be killer live. I’m gonna kill him myself.”

He stands up abruptly and takes a deliberate step toward the police cruiser holding Nigel. Immediately, I am in front of him, and my hands reach up and push back against his shoulders. Conscious of the crowd around us, I communicate one last time with him silently.

Let me take you home. Then I’ll come back and get her.

“Let me go,” he growls in a low voice. He doesn’t try to push through me; he knows he can’t. But I know he’s not going to go quietly.

You know I can’t let you hurt him. Let him rot in jail. Luthor will probably have him killed anyways. Let me take you home, Clark.

My pleading doesn’t change his anger, and this time, he does try to power his way through me. He is stronger than earlier in the day, but so am I, and I easily stand my ground against him. And before he can cause a scene, I grasp him by the shoulders and launch us up into the air.

“Dammit, let me go! What are you doing? Take me back there. I’m gonna kill him. And she’s alone again. You let her be left alone. Let me go!”

“Listen to yourself, Clark,” I insist. He struggles in my grasp, but I hold him tightly and fly him toward Lois’s apartment. “Calm down. Please. What good will you be to Lois if you kill him and then go to prison?”

Finally, my words seem to get through to him, and he stops struggling. His breathing is ragged and fast, however, and his heart seems to stutter in his chest. I descend toward the apartment, scanning ahead to ensure that the window is unlocked, and then gently push the window open ahead of us and set him down in the living room. He immediately turns away from me and starts pacing the room, his face wrought with anxiety. I don’t want to leave him like this, but I know I need to get back to Lois ASAP. As though he hears my thoughts, which he probably does, he spins around and faces me.

“What are you waiting for? Go back to her. You’re leaving her alone too long. If she’s not safe—” He falls to his knees in the middle of the living room, burying his head in his hands. “I’m…I’m sorry. Please, hurry. I can’t stand these feelings. I need her.”

I nod. I will be back. Please stay here. Less than one minute, and I’ll be back with Lois. Okay?

“Please, hurry,” he repeats.

I turn away from him and jump back out the window, speeding over toward the Lexor. I deliberately keep our connection open, sending him images of Lois as I use my special vision to check on her. She stands next to Bill now, and they chat quietly as the EMTs check Bill’s wife and son for injuries. I slow as I approach, and she looks up toward me. Landing lightly next to her, I nod again to Bill, and then address her formally.

“Ms. Lane, if you’re finished up here, can I give you a ride home?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Sure, of course, Superman,” she replies.

She turns back to Bill and gives him a brief hug, then waves to Bill’s wife and son before following me a few steps away. Her eyes meet mine, and her expression of concern is overwhelming. She’s probably quite worried about Clark, since we took off pretty abruptly earlier. I offer her my hand. She takes it, and I carefully lift her into my arms and then up into the sky, again heading in the general direction of her apartment, although not quite as quickly this time.

“Are you okay?” she asks quietly as we fly through downtown.

The question startles me, and I glance down at her briefly before answering.

“My powers are still not 100%,” I admit, refocusing ahead of us as I veer slightly south. “But I’ll be fine.”

She shakes her head. “That’s not what I mean. I mean… I’m sorry about how I behaved this morning.” Her voice is low and a bit shaky. “And thank you for saving me. And… And are you okay?”

We’ve reached her apartment, but I hover outside for a moment. Inside, Clark is pacing the room again, occasionally glancing at the clock. His shoulders are taut with worry, and he runs a nervous hand through his hair.

“I will be okay, Lois,” I say noncommittally. “Clark really needs you right now.”

I know I’m short with her, and I don’t like it. But he looks like he’s about to break down into a full-blown panic attack any second. Also, I don’t really want to revisit the events of the morning. At least not right now.

“Yeah,” she replies. She knows I’m distancing myself.

A small shard of hope lodges itself in my heart as I note the disappointment in her tone. But I quickly push that away and descend toward her window as Clark again glances at the clock and then reaches out to me.

“Where are you? Is she okay?”

“We’re here,” I say out loud as I push open the window for the second time in just a couple minutes.

I gently set her feet on the floor, and my hands linger maybe a second too long on her waist as I ensure she is steady before releasing her. Clark rushes over to us, and I back up and lower my eyes as he envelops her in a tight embrace. She returns the hug, whispering calming words into his ear. Her eyes meet mine very briefly, and she gives me a weak smile. I nod back at her and then step toward the window.

“I’ll, uh, go get your car, Lois, and your purse.”

“My…car?” She straightens up, pulling away from Clark slightly, but he tightens his hold on her.

“We drove your car to Bill’s house to look for you,” Clark explains. “When we realized you’d been there and saw signs of a struggle, he flew us back into Metropolis to find you.” He buries his head in her hair and refuses to let her move away from him. He’s very effectively blocking his thoughts and feelings from me right now, which is probably a good thing. I swallow hard as Lois nods at me.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” I say again, and then I take off out the window.

The Sun shines brightly in the sky still, feeding my growing power, but I feel lousy right now. And I still have to get to the Planet to write up whatever parts of the story we’re able to tell.

And then there’s still Luthor to worry about… I have no proof of the link between Luthor and Nigel, which means that Luthor is still out there with his kryptonite stash, intimate knowledge of my physiology, and probably now a grudge against me, Lois, and Henderson. I drift onto my back as I fly, staring up into the sky, and I close my eyes for a moment as I breathe deeply.

One day, one moment at a time. My first task is to return Lois’s car and purse. I can worry about everything else after that. I flip back over and descend rapidly as I approach Bill Henderson’s house.





Groaning, I roll over in bed and pull the comforter up to cover my face, blocking the sunlight filtering in through the window. It’s too early to move, especially considering I was up most of the night redirecting the lava flow from a volcano that erupted in Iceland and considering the multiple kryptonite exposures of the previous two days.

The clock on my nightstand reads 6:49 a.m.—I’d managed an entire hour of sleep—and I groan again as I drag myself out of bed, resigned to the fact that there’s no way I’m getting back to sleep now.

In a daze, I stumble into the kitchen and start a pot of coffee, then head back into the bedroom to get dressed. I haven’t gone running in a few days. Maybe a quick five miles will help me wake up and organize my thoughts. My plan decided, I pull on my running shorts, a T-shirt, and socks and then dig my Nikes out of the closet. I slip the shoes on, run a quick hand through my tousled hair, and grab my glasses from the nightstand.

The coffee won’t be done for several minutes, and I’m suddenly feeling an urgent need to get outside. So I decide I’ll just have coffee when I get back. I adjust my glasses and jog up the steps to the door. As I unlock the deadbolt, I sense Lois’s heartbeat, strong and steady, just on the other side of the door. I hesitate only momentarily before I pull the door open, pasting a fake smile on my face.

She stands there, her hand half raised as though she is about to knock. Her well-fitted running pants and long-sleeved compression shirt hug the delicious curves of her figure, and I have to force myself to keep my eyes on her face. A small smile graces her lips.

“Good morning, Clark. I wanted to join you on your run this morning. Is—is that okay?” she asks tentatively, shifting back from the door a step. She bites her lower lip as she awaits my response.

Gosh, she’s so adorable when she does that.

I mentally shake myself. Careful with your thoughts, Kent.

“Oh, of—of course. Anytime,” I fumble, dropping my eyes as I exit the apartment.

I turn away from her and take my time with locking the door. She hasn’t joined me on one of my morning runs since I brought Clark back out of the Sun, and her nervousness concerns me. Does she really want to go running with me, or is she here for another reason? Yesterday morning, I was certain both she and Clark wanted me gone—she’d become incredibly angry with me when I’d told her about Bill Henderson being the one who had exposed me to the deadly modified kryptonite, and Clark, well… Clark had lost his cool with me several times.

I shake my head to avoid thinking about Clark’s misguided rage and terrifying thoughts of the previous day, and as I turn around and force a smile again, motioning for Lois to go ahead of me down the steps, I wonder whether he had told her how close he’d come to making a huge mistake yesterday—how much he’d wished I’d simply let Nigel fall to his death, and how he’d wanted to take matters into his own hands. If I hadn’t been there…

“The normal five-mile loop?” she asks, moving into a fast jog. I copy her, effortlessly keeping up with her moderate pace.

“That works for me,” I agree. I glance at her briefly, taking in the details of her features. Her heartbeat is more rapid than it should be, and the muscles in her jaw twitch slightly with tension.

However, she remains silent, and I allow myself to simply enjoy her presence as we turn left and head across the street along the edge of Centennial Park. Her breath is visible in the chilly morning air, and a slight breeze picks up, moving high clouds over the Sun and creating rapidly changing shadows across the path in front of us.

For a few minutes, I imagine we’re back where we were just over a week ago—before things got undoubtedly much more complicated.

She’d become my best friend.

But now…

We follow the path off the sidewalk and through the trees, and to my surprise, she slows to a walk and then stops altogether in the cold shade of the forested trail, breathing heavily. I stop just a few paces ahead of her and turn back to face her. She squats down just off the edge of the path, her eyes downcast. Then, she stands back up and raises her eyes to mine. She no longer hides the apprehension from her expression.

I gulp in a lungful of air and start off again down the path, but her hand on my arm stops me.

“Can we walk a moment and…talk?” she asks hesitantly. My stomach drops.

“Of course,” I answer dispassionately.

I allow her to set the pace, and she starts off again at a slow walk. I keep my eyes on the path ahead of me, focusing on her heartbeat, still strong and steady. After a moment, I feel her hand slip into mine, and we continue to walk side by side in silence for several minutes. Her skin feels so soft, so smooth, and without meaning to, I find my thumb rubbing gentle circles on the back of her hand. She doesn’t seem to mind.

“The last week has been crazy, huh?” she starts, her voice trembling slightly. The question seems a bit rhetorical to me, so I simply murmur my agreement and continue walking alongside her. “Clark, he, uh… God, why is this so hard?” She stops again and pulls her hand away from mine as she turns away from me. Her hands settle on her hips, and she takes a deep breath.

I stuff my hands into my pockets to keep them from shaking. Here it comes. I should just head on back and start packing up my things. I swallow hard and close my eyes. But when she speaks up again, it’s not what I was expecting.

“Uh, before Tuesday night, you know—when we came to help you at the high school—” She turns back toward me, and I open my eyes to meet hers. “Clark, he finally told me everything. Well, probably not everything, but he did open up to me about what h-happened on New Krypton. What—what he had to do.” She lowers her eyes, and her voice drops to almost a whisper. “Who he had to become.”

I nod slightly in response to her admission, but I don’t otherwise interrupt her.

“And you know all of it. Probably more than I do,” she says, eyeing me expectantly. I grimace and nod again. “Right. So, like you told me… There is no way he could ever be, um, you-know-who, again. And then yesterday…” She moves her arms from her hips to wrap around herself as she visibly shivers. “Clark, he admitted to me yesterday that he wanted Nigel dead for what he did to me.”

I step closer to her and, tentatively, as though asking for permission, I reach out and wrap my arms around her. She allows the embrace and rests her head gently on my chest.

“He said he was angry with you for saving Nigel’s life. And he was ashamed of his reaction, but he couldn’t control it.” I nod into her, tightening my arms around her slightly as I feel her shiver again. “He—he said if you hadn’t been there…” She allows her voice to trail off.

“I know…” I say quietly. I don’t move, and she shifts a bit in my embrace to look up at me.

“He calmed down considerably after you left yesterday,” she explains, her eyes holding back tears. “And he was horrified by his actions and words.”

“That—that’s good.” I keep my tone light, but she shakes her head.

“But he’s still terrified now. He doesn’t want to let me out of his sight, and that’s why…” She closes her eyes and pulls herself out of my embrace, backing away from me a bit. “He wants to return to work with me. Starting today.”

Oh. I see.

I don’t say the words out loud. My jaw sets tightly, and I drop my chin to my chest as my hand lifts to rub the back of my neck. I knew this was coming, eventually. But it’s too soon. He’s not ready. Hell, I’m not ready for him to be ready. I shake my head and raise my eyes to hers.

“He’s not ready, Lois,” I warn her, trying to keep my voice steady.

She again wraps her arms around herself and turns away from me. “I know that.” She reaches up and wipes a tear off her cheek. “I tried to tell him. But he insists. He—he insists that he needs to be near me at all times and that he can…control himself if I’m around. And honestly, I…I think I would feel better too—knowing he’s with me. I wouldn’t have to worry…” Her voice trails off.

And a deep numbness spreads through me.

“He’ll, uh, n-need some suits—w-work suits that is,” I note absently as I start walking again, slowly, down the path. She follows reluctantly. “I’ll bring some over. And…”

She reaches out and takes my hand again, walking along next to me. Her touch gives me a little strength, but I falter as we walk along.

I will not get to see her every day.

I will not get to touch her like this.

And why should I get to anyways? She is not mine. She is his. I’ve been pretending. And it’s time for the pretense to end.

No. I squeeze her hand gently, and she looks up at me with a weak smile. No, it’s really not like that. I’ll still have her as a friend. I’ll still be Superman. I’ll still be able to help keep and build peace in this welcoming world.

It will still be better than my world.

“If—if he won’t let you out of his sight, how’d you convince him to let you come over here alone?” I ask, almost teasingly, flashing her a weak smile.

She laughs, though there is only a hint of amusement in it, and she leans on me slightly. “Don’t you know by now that no one, not even Clark Kent, tells Lois Lane what to do?”

My smile grows a little. God, I love her. I mean, as a friend. Right.

“It wasn’t an easy conversation,” she says more seriously. “I just… I told him that I needed to talk to you, and that it was something I really needed to do alone. He wasn’t happy with it. But I promised you’d escort me home.”

“Oh, I will, will I?” I glance sideways at her, and she finally smiles at me—a real, beautiful smile that makes my heart jump.

“Yep, that’s right.”

I look ahead again as we exit the trees and navigate back onto the sidewalk. I lower my voice a bit, hesitating. “And that made him feel better? He’s not exactly my biggest fan right now.”

“Well…” Her hand tightens in mine. God, Lois, what is this? Her touch makes me feel alive, loved, and safe. Why do I allow myself these feelings? I push them away, and she continues, seeming to choose her words carefully. “He knows that you care about me and that you won’t let anything hurt me.”

I more than care about you, Lois. I suspect she knows this. And I suddenly get a strong sense that she more than cares about me too.

“I definitely won’t let anything happen to you,” I agree quietly.

We continue along the sidewalk, hand in hand, and my mind wanders as the silence between us grows. I try to picture my life as Superman, without working at the Planet. Life might be simpler, I reason. I have always thought, as I told the other Lois from the other universe, that life is so much less complicated as Superman than as Clark Kent.

But will it be enough? It will have to be, I suppose.

Next to me, Lois lets out a sigh. She leans into me as we walk. The faint scent of her strawberry shampoo almost intoxicates me, and I allow myself a quick glance at her. A tear falls silently down her cheek, and she reaches up to brush it away. I stop and step in front of her, raising my hands to rest on her upper arms. She wipes away another tear and sniffles as she avoids eye contact.

“Lois?”

She doesn’t answer. Or she can’t. She shakes her head and steps around me to keep us moving down the path.

“We should get back.” Her voice is shaky, and she sniffles again as she picks up her pace to a slow jog.

I close my eyes for a moment before following after her. My heart is breaking. I swallow my feelings and jog after her.





A week’s worth of suits and ties, a couple belts, and a couple pairs of shoes. Plus his cell phone and wallet. And three pairs of glasses. I’ll keep one pair, though I doubt I’ll need them much anymore. I survey everything, carefully laid out on the bed in front of me. This should be enough. At least for now. I pick up a duffle bag and several garment bags that I’d found in his closet and start packing everything up.

Behind me, Lois knocks lightly on the doorframe, and I turn to look at her over my shoulder. Her arms cross over her chest, and she leans up against the wall.

“Almost finished?” she asks quietly. She can’t quite meet my eyes.

“Yeah, just packing it all up now,” I reply. “I packed enough for about a week, I think. But that’s just for now. I can bring more over soon. Or he can even come over and pick out what he wants. That would be fine, too. Maybe he’ll want something different, you know—different, I dunno, ties or…” I realize I’m rambling, and I let out a sharp breath to reset myself. “Sorry, uh, just give me one more minute, and we can go.” I turn back to my task. I feel her step up behind me, and a small hand rests on my back. My shoulders tense.

“I’m sorry about this, Clark,” she whispers.

“It’s fine, Lois, really,” I tell her, moving the pairs of shoes and belts to the duffle bag. I pack everything away with an air of indifference. With a certain degree of numbness. I’m trying. I really am. But then, her hand presses into me a little stronger. And I forget myself for a moment. “Lois, I—”

I spin around to face her, and my hand immediately reaches up to lift her chin. I want to look at her now. I want to see her beautiful, deep brown eyes. Without smiling, I study her, memorizing the features of her perfect face, and then I lean down and kiss her cheek softly. Maybe I shouldn’t. But I feel compelled to, and she doesn’t pull away. I want to tell her, I love you, Lois. I will miss seeing you, working with you, being around you. However, this time I stop myself from acting impulsively, and I swallow back my strong emotions and force a smile. I really don’t want to see her cry again. So I will pretend to be okay. I will pretend to be strong.

“I don’t want you to worry about me. Please.” And it’s the truth.

She lowers her eyes as her hand reaches up to touch the spot where I’d kissed her. An aching in my chest forces me to turn away, and I busy myself again with packing up the suits into several garment bags.

I will be fine. It will be fine. I will still be here, nearby, and I will still be Superman. For her and for this world. And I will be fine.

Maybe if I repeat it enough, I’ll believe it.

“I-I’ll just…” Her voice trails off, and she quietly steps away from me and back out of the room. The tension in my shoulders fades; however, a chill seeps into my bones as the distance between us grows. I hear her sit at the kitchen table and sip her coffee, and I hang my head in defeat as I finish packing.

A few minutes later, I heft all of the clothing bags into the back of her Jeep and then take my spot in the front seat next to her. She starts up the car, and we ride along in an uncomfortable silence. I stare outside and watch the other cars go by, my fingers tapping absently on my knee. The drive to her apartment is too short. Can’t we take the long way, Lois? Or get stuck in a traffic jam? Or maybe a flat tire? That would work too. But no, nothing exciting happens to prolong our drive, and within only a short time, we pull into an open parking spot outside her apartment building.

She shuts off the car but doesn’t move to open the door. Instead, her hand reaches over and settles on top of mine, stilling the nervous tapping of my fingers on my knee.

“Clark, I need to tell you…” I shift in my seat to face her and raise my eyes to hers. But she stares at her hand on mine. Her lower lip trembles slightly. “I know I’ve said this before, but I really, really can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me, and for him, in the last month.” She pauses and then looks up at me. Tears moisten the edges of her eyes again, and I frown.

“Lois, it’s why I’m here,” I say quietly.

“I know, but…” Her voice trails off, and she blinks back her tears as she seems to be looking for the right words. I hate to see her struggle. My hand turns over to grip hers. I will be strong, so she can get on with her life without worrying about me.

I will be whatever she needs, just as I’ve thought all along, since the first night I came here.

“This isn’t goodbye,” I continue, allowing myself a weak smile. “Lois, in the last month, you’ve shown me so much kindness. You’ve welcomed me here and helped me, so much more than you even know… You’ve become my best friend, Lois, and I’ve never…I’ve never had a best friend before.”

The admission is too much, I suppose, because she can no longer hold back her tears. She pulls her hand away from mine to wipe her cheeks.

“Oh, Clark, I was going to say—” She sniffles loudly and blinks again to help stop herself from crying. “I was going to say the same thing—you’ve become my best friend, Clark.” She reaches over and places her hand back on mine. “And, I love you, Clark.”

I know she doesn’t mean romantically. Her tone makes that perfectly clear. But my heart fills with joy like I’ve never known before, and I quickly lower my eyes to avoid giving myself away. I love you, too, Lois. I smile, but keep my eyes down.

“Lois, I love you, too,” I repeat, this time out loud, trying to make my words sound as though I mean ‘I love you like a best friend.’ I feel her hand tighten in mine, and I allow myself to look up at her. Her beautiful smile soothes my soul, and I squeeze her hand back. “I—I really appreciate your friendship, Lois. And I hope we can still be good friends.”

I feel him tugging at me, trying to inch into my thoughts, but I block him; I’ve gotten better at it now, and he certainly doesn’t need to hear this conversation right now. I glance out the window, though, and up toward her apartment. The curtains are pulled back, and he stands with his arms crossed over his chest, watching me. I turn back to Lois.

“But I, um…” I shake my head. What are the right words? “Um, I…I want you to know that I respect your decision and his decision to have him go back to work. I know he needs you right now. He still has a lot of healing to do…” She nods in response, brushing away another tear with her free hand, and I continue. “And for that, he needs your help and guidance, and he needs for me to be…less present.” My voice is quiet now. “He needs for you to be his best friend again. And I respect that.”

I hope she understands what I mean. Her eyes close for a brief moment, and I hear her rapid heart rate slow just slightly.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” she says finally, reaching out toward me and adjusting my glasses, which had skewed a bit. She smiles at me, and my heart jumps in my chest.

“Sure, but you can tell me more often,” I joke in response, returning her smile. I glance back out the window again. Clark still stands at the window. He looks worried. My smile fades a bit. “He’s, uh, waiting for us. We should…”

“Yeah,” she agrees. Her hand slips out of mine, and she pulls the keys out of the ignition. Quickly, I jump out of the Jeep and hurry to the driver’s side to open the door for her. She laughs at my actions. “Boy scout.”

I shrug and close the door behind her after she exits the car. Then, I open the hatch and remove the duffle and garment bags. I hear Clark’s voice in my head as I drop my guard a bit.

“Is she okay?”

My eyes drift upwards, toward the window. He’s watching her as she makes her way slowly up the steps in front of the building.

She’s fine. I told you I’ll protect her. And this will not change that. His eyes shift to me abruptly, and I feel a sudden jolt of apprehension from him. I soften my tone a bit. Sorry. She’s fine, really. She’s still the strongest woman I know.

I see him nod and then step away from the window. Ahead of me, Lois holds the door open. I paste a smile on my face again and trot up the stairs, balancing all of the bags.

“Thanks.”

She dips her head in acknowledgement. And we head down the hallway to the elevator.