Happy Ficlet Friday, everyone. This is the last installment in my Rebuilding A Friendship series . I believe we can tie the rest back into the second season with some chances, so I'll leave the rest to your imagination. I’m Only Human, After All Every single cell in my body screams with frustration. I start for the door – again. But this time I'm not going to talk myself out of putting on my shoes. Third time’s a charm. I'm going to find Clark; I've had enough of waiting and pacing indentations into the floor.
He's not going to be happy with me when he returns and finds this place abandoned… if he returns. So many times he told me to stay put, but I never listened. With a shaking hand I reach out to pull my coat from the rack and wrap it tightly around my shoulders.
I wish I knew what to do. It seems like hours ago that he sat up in bed, jolted to stand and rushed off without any explanation. A shiver runs down my spine, so very much like the chill against my suddenly exposed back when he left. For a few hours I had been resting in his arms, the whiff of his breath tingling in my neck. Nothing had ever felt this natural, as if I belonged there, as if time would stop just for the two of us.
But whatever made him dash off put a sudden stop to this wonderful moment of make-believe. Did something happen to him or did he just decide to better not return to me, even though he said we could still be friends?
“Enough of this, Lois.” I silence the voice of doubt.
I take a steadying breath, before I snatch the keys from the side board and open the door. Clark looks back at me, his fist raised to knock and his eyes wide with surprise. For a moment, we stare at each other, too dumbfounded to say anything. He shifts his position and rakes his hand through his hair, ruffling it into an unruly mess. His eyes have lost their gleam; there are dark circles underneath and his usually smiling lips are drawn into a thin line. He clutches his arms around himself, seeming uneasy.
“Can I come in?” he asks quietly.
“Of course!” I step aside, a rush of guilt swallowing me because I didn’t realize I was blocking his way. He walks past me, his shoulders slumped and his head hanging between his shoulders. Seeing him like this makes my heart clench in sympathy. Right now, Clark doesn’t look anything like Superman. “What happened?”
“Luthor is dead,” he mutters. “He jumped from LexTower when Henderson tried to arrest him. I…” He swallows hard and takes a few shaky breaths. “I was too late, I couldn’t save him.”
My heart skips a beat. Lex is dead. I’m not sure what to say, or even what to feel. Am I sad? Relieved? Shouldn’t I be feeling something? But to be honest, I’m more worried about Clark.
“You tried to save him? Was that why you flew off?”
He nods. Both hands are stuffed deep into the pockets of his pants. He can’t quite meet my eyes, though I can tell he’s trying to.
“He still wore that kryptonite pendant when I got there,” he says roughly. “The exposure was brief, but I lost most of my powers anyway. And Henderson wanted a statement, that’s what took me so long.” Clark takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, Lois. I didn’t like him, but I never meant for him to die. Or for any of this to happen, really.”
I take in a sharp breath. Does he blame himself? For Luthor’s death? Or for what happened since I was stupid enough to go out with that monster and accept his proposal?
“None of this is your fault, Clark.” I’m not sure it’s the right thing to do, but I step toward him and pull him into an embrace. “You said he had kryptonite on him, you couldn’t have saved him, even if you had been on time.”
The way he’s shaking in my arms, I’m not sure words will be enough to convince him. I want to do something to alleviate his pain. Does it always rattle him so deeply when he can’t save someone? He'd told me there were things about him I didn't know, that I might never know. He was right.
“Part of me is even relieved he's dead,” he whispers. “Did you hear that? I'm relieved. Some superhero…”
He tries to pull back, but I don't let him. Clark promised that he would still be my friend after everything that happened. Now, he's in desperate need of a friend, too.
I get on my toes, aching to place a kiss on his cheek. But I’m not sure that would be wise, so I just whisper in his ear. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re only human.”
He lets out a short, mirthless laugh and shakes his head. “Not exactly.”
I cup his cheek and make him look at me. “You’re human in every way that counts, more than most of us, I’d say.”
My eyes fill with tears as I see him so thoroughly defeated. He shouldn’t be feeling so sad. What I wouldn’t give to kiss him and make him feel better. All these confusing feelings I have for him bubble up in my chest, this strong surge of love and belonging I always feel in his presence. It seems even stronger now that I know who he truly is, what he went through for me. I promised myself to ignore them, because how could I expect Clark to love me?
But it’s too much to contain. “That’s why I love you so much.”
Perhaps he needs to hear it.
Clark squeezes his eyes shut. “Superman is an illusion, Lois. He became what you expected him to be. You said Superman wouldn’t cheat at poker, so I didn’t. You said, whatever Superman could do was enough, so I kept going. When I didn’t know how to go on, you were my conscience, telling me what you thought I should or shouldn't do. It was no wonder you fell for him. But he’s not real. Clark Kent is petty at times, he’s jealous and overbearing–”
I silence him with my index finger. “You’re also my best friend and I should have listened to you when you told me I was in danger. I should have been able to look past my infatuation with a certain caped hero and seen the good man right in front of me.”
He cringes. “Remember? I sent you on a wild goose chase into the sewage reclamation facility and threw you in a dumpster.”
I smile at him. “I might have deserved that. So what do you say? Can we start over and become best friends? And time will tell, maybe more?”
The tension eases from his shoulder and a small smile blooms on his lips, gradually becoming broader. “I guess we could try.”
I hold out my hand. “Lois Lane, nice to meet you.”
His fingers close around my hand, so warm and gentle. “Clark Kent. Nice to meet you, too.”
The light shining in his eyes makes me hope that everything will be all right again. I still have a place in his heart. Given time, I know he’ll let me in.
