Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic The Longest Road: The Roads They Walked Alone - Part 58

From Last Time:

Talan intercepted him on his way to central command. "Good morning, sir," she said.

"Talan, I can't thank you enough," he replied quietly.

"You're quite welcome."

"About last night…" he began.

"It's protocol, sir; a superior officer visiting a base is supposed to take the commanding officer's quarters," she assured him.

"It just didn't seem like a very polite thing to do."

"Military etiquette can be a bit peculiar."

He smiled briefly. "It looks like I need to get back to the main colony as soon as possible."

"I'll arrange transportation immediately," she replied.

Clark touched her shoulder. "Thank you again."

"Of course, sir," she said with a slight nod.

********

New Stuff:


Lois hovered high above the ground, too far up for the human eye to see. But she had no difficulty whatsoever watching what happened below. Beyond the bustling markets of the Togoran capital, behind the high walls and the many guards, through the mazes of gardens, stood the presidential palace. Inside, President Sangara went about his business as though his hands weren't stained by the blood of hundreds of thousands of people. As though all that blood didn't stain every damn thing he touched. She wanted nothing more than to burst into the palace, to tear the heavy, wooden doors to his office from their hinges, grab him by the throat and fly him straight to the international prosecutor's office. Hell, maybe she'd just drop him into the middle of the Mediterranean on the way. It would be much neater, much simpler that way.

Instead, she drifted upward and headed west. She'd been through this a million times with Dr. Friskin. Shedding blood wouldn't bring back the dead. Taking matters into her own hands would only make her everything she hated – a powerful tyrant, unconstrained by laws or ethics. She could try to slake her thirst for justice by drinking deep from the poisoned well of revenge, but she knew the price she'd pay.

She just had to keep reminding herself of it.

Descending over Metropolis, Lois made her way to her therapist's office. She wasn't really in the mood for talking, but she'd already broken a few appointments. It would have been nice to believe that it had been because she didn't need the help anymore, but even Lois wasn't capable of that sort of self-delusion.

She was grateful that Dr. Friskin always saw her during off-hours. Dealing with the waiting room and everyone who could potentially see her there was well beyond her. Besides, the last thing she needed were tabloid stories about Ultrawoman going off the deep end. And who knew? Maybe there was another wacky government agency like Bureau 39, waiting to take her out if she was suddenly deemed a threat. An unbalanced, nigh-invulnerable, superhero with ten thousand tons of emotional baggage would probably qualify in many people's books as a potential threat.

Scanning the building to make sure that it was safe, she made her way to Dr. Friskin's office, dreading the hour she'd have to spend there, knowing it would spin out and drag into what felt like an eternity. She was so very tired of talking about her feelings, about trying to make sense of them, of learning knew coping skills for the million and one forms of atrocities she had to deal with. She knocked surreptitiously on the door.

"How are you?" Dr. Friskin asked warmly as she shepherded Lois through the waiting room.

Why was it that when you said 'fine' in response to that question, shrinks always felt the need to pick it apart? Couldn't they just do what everyone else did and ask it without actually thinking about the answer? "Been better," she bit out tersely.

"What happened?"

"Found another mass grave," Lois replied, her voice brittle and thin. She sat down on the couch but didn't lie back. Instead she leaned forward, staring at the carpet intently like she expected it to do something interesting. "That's the third one this month." She understood why the investigators wanted her help with this. Despite their survey equipment, it was still much more efficient for her to scan for the mass graves. More efficient, but certainly not easier. She looked for the telltale turned up earth and x rayed the ground, always hoping desperately to find nothing but mud and clay and earthworms. But every once in a while, her heart would plummet as she discovered the gruesome remains of the war's victims. The bones, many of them too small to belong to anyone other than children, had acquired the dark brown hue of the dirt they'd been surrounded in. They were all that remained, the nameless, faceless dead who might never be identified. They seemed to whisper to her, the stories of terror and fear of the thousands of souls she hadn't saved. The sound swirled around her, until she couldn't hear anything else. She hadn't protected these people, hadn't prevented their deaths. They'd needed her to fight against the rapacious, devouring force that had descended upon their world, and she hadn't been there. Now, she couldn't even seek justice for them.

Then again, what exactly did justice mean here? Sangara and his ilk could have been kept in detention until the end of time, they could have rotted in holes in the ground, despised and eventually forgotten, and it still wouldn't have undone the evil they'd perpetrated against their victims. There was no justice for a crime like this. "There were so many dead bodies," she whispered breathlessly, feeling tears sting her eyes. She didn't cry in her therapist's office. It was a firm rule, not like the rules she set for herself that turned into loose guidelines. This was one she didn't break. She'd talk things through with Dr. Friskin, she'd get upset and angry and frustrated, and would even float unconsciously, but she wouldn't cry. No, she saved that for after. "So many children," she added, her voice finally breaking.

The tears soaked into the mask, the way they always did. It drove her crazy. Her head bowed, she rested her elbows on her knees, as her body shook with sobs.

She felt Dr. Friskin's warm hand close around hers. "Ultrawoman?" she asked gently.

Lois nodded feebly. "Not much of a hero, huh?" She opened her eyes to see Dr. Friskin crouching next to the couch.

"I fail to see how having emotions negates your heroism. But it seems like you're still blaming yourself for things that aren't in your control."

"I thought I could do this. I thought I could fill his shoes while he was away. But I'm not Superman. I can't be him. I can't do what he does."

Dr. Friskin pulled a few tissues from the box on a nearby table and handed them to Lois. "I'd say you've done a pretty remarkable job, why do you think our perceptions differ?"

"Because you don't have to see all the people I didn't save," Lois said flatly. "They're just stories or statistics in a newspaper to you. So long as you can avoid the tangible proof, they're not real people."

"Three days before Superman left, there was an accident in the Washington Tunnel. Two people were killed. Rescue workers couldn't reach them in time, but perhaps Superman could have. Yet, he wasn't there. Are those deaths his fault?"

"Superman was landing a distressed plane in Greece," Lois shot back angrily. The incident, like so many others from around the time of his departure, was burned into her memory. "There were over two hundred people on board whom he saved. And he went to the tunnel accident as soon as he could. No one could have done more for those people than he did." She felt her heart pound and her face become flushed as the trademarked Lois Lane righteous indignation bubbled up inside her.

"Well, what about the flooding in Bangladesh a year before that. He helped there, but hundreds of people still died," Dr. Friskin said calmly.

"And instead of hundreds, it would have been thousands if it weren't for him," Lois countered, her hackles raised.

"I don't doubt that for a moment," the doctor replied. "He has always done everything in his power to help others. So have you. You don't see every rescue he couldn't make as evidence that he didn't do enough. And yet, you blame yourself for every life you couldn't save even though, in the exact same circumstances, you would never have blamed him. You aren't just trying to be Superman. You're trying to be a perfect version of Superman. You're holding yourself to a standard that wouldn't be fair for anyone except a god. But you're not a god, are you?"

Lois looked away as she shook her head. "No."

"I'm not going to tell you that it will ever stop hurting, because it won't. So long as you continue in this line of work, you're going to encounter terribly painful situations. And you'll probably never stop second guessing, either. You're going to wonder if you could have done things differently. You can use that constructively to learn you’re your experiences, but you have to remember that not being able to help everyone doesn't make you a failure. You've done more than anyone could ask of you, in a job that I take it doesn't come with a training manual and that has very few low-key days."

********

Talan closed the door to her quarters, not bothering to turn on the lights. In the darkness, she could make out the shape of the bed, neatly made, almost as though he hadn't slept there the night before. She exhaled a shaky breath as sat down on the bed and took off her boots. None of it – Nor's capture, the end of the war, Kal El's confession – made any sense yet. Perhaps later it would. Perhaps all she needed was enough time to get perspective, but somehow, she doubted it.

It was over. It was finally over. All the weeks long marches in the middle of nowhere, the battles, the rescue missions, the endless stretches without rest or sleep, the anarchy of a firefight, the danger and the desperation, the constant specter of death. None of these things existed anymore. But once you'd been living for years on the knife blade's edge of life, how did you go back?

She wasn't the person she'd been all those years ago, she'd confessed as much to Kal El, but she wasn't the commander who would pay any price or bear any burden, either. The strength to wear that mantle had left her. Jozen and the other engagement task force commanders would soon begin launching operations to root out the remnants of the rebellion, but all evidence suggested that it had collapsed thoroughly upon itself after Nor's capture and Rae Et's death. Unlike before, she didn't feel compelled to join them in the field. She'd had enough of fighting. She was tired and she wanted to lay her arms down and rest for the first time in years.

Closing her eyes, she could see the battles play themselves out in her head, all jumbled together in one chaotic mess. She could see the enemies she'd dispatched and the soldiers under her command who had fallen. She could see the dead of Breksin, Terian, and Silban – the people she hadn't saved. Tears stung the corners of her eyes and for the first time in decades, she did nothing to fight them. They fell from her tightly shut eyes, slipping down her cheeks. She drew in a ragged breath that became a sob as she wept for the dead. For the soldiers she couldn't protect, the civilians she couldn't rescue, the rebels she'd killed. She cried for all of them. For every order she'd given, knowing it would cost someone their life, for every act of evil she'd perpetrated in the name of good. For the ghosts that weighed down her soul. She cried for the gaping wounds left in her world and for her part in inflicting them. She wept for everything she'd ever hoped for, or treasured, or held sacred, which had turned to ash. And for the excruciating pain that regaining the ability to love had caused her. It had been so long since she'd been reduced to tears and now, because of her love of one man, she was powerless to fight them. It was brutal and punishing and it drained her of all her strength. Dimly, she was aware that she should be grateful, that the pain gnawing away at her, thrashing and clawing at her soul, was the proof that that soul still existed.

A strangled cry escaped from her constricted throat as she tried to swallow around the boulder that had lodged itself there. Her long, lean, and powerful frame trembled as she curled up on her side on the bed, biting her lip to muffle the sound of crying, but otherwise defenseless against the onslaught of emotions. Her chest ached as though she were being crushed under the weight of some tremendous stone. Suddenly small and powerless, she cried until she was exhausted. Until all the tears had dried up and her body convulsed in a violent shiver from the constant trembling. With the strength to neither fight nor cry, she finally fell asleep.

********

"Zara!" she heard her mother call out. The First Minister rushed to embrace her mother and then her father, happily jettisoning the normal formality that governed their relationship.

"My darling daughter," her father whispered as he hugged her fiercely. "I am so very happy."

"As are we all," Zara replied as she gestured for them to sit in the large reception room.

"We are so proud of you," her mother said, her eyes unusually bright.

"I can hardly take the credit for this," Zara demurred.

"Nonsense," Tek Ra replied gruffly. "Ching tells us it was your plan that led to Nor's capture and to the defeat of his forces."

"Speaking of whom, where is he?" Mieren asked.

"Sleeping," Zara replied. "Or so I imagine," she quickly amended. "He was personally overseeing the operation for weeks; I doubt he slept much at all."

Her parents shared a knowing look and Zara tried to tamp down the rising sense of mortification. It was a pretense she hated maintaining, especially since she was certain her parents knew about her relationship with Ching. Both of them were more than well aware that her political marriage was exactly that and if circumstances had been different, she and Ching would have been married for close to a decade by now. "Where are the boys?" she asked, trying to change the subject.

"They have their exam in basic flight on the Interceptor today," Mieren replied. "The end to this war couldn't have come soon enough."

"We were hoping to thank Kal El for his help in making this possible," her father said.

"He's meeting with the lawyers today," Zara replied.

"About Nor?" her mother asked. Zara merely nodded.

Tek Ra frowned. "How is he?"

"He's well," Zara replied, not knowing if it were true. He'd seemed distant when he'd returned, but then these days, he always seemed distant. She'd hoped that the end of the war would have lightened his mood, but he was so hard to read.

"Well, do extend to him our best wishes," her mother said warmly.

"I will," Zara assured her.

********

He stared out onto the desolate New Kryptonian landscape. Under the canopy of stars, the rough hills and canyons looked almost peaceful. In the darkness, he began to wander, unsure where he was going or what was driving him there. The cold air cut through his greatcoat and he shivered. Clark continued walking until the lights of the colony were no longer visible and the established paths gave way to untamed wilderness. Was there anywhere, on any world or in the depths of space as lonely as this place?

Along the ridge at the apex of the highest hill, she walked slowly toward him. The biting wind that chilled him to the very bone didn’t seem to bother her in the least; it rustled through her hair and the folds of her dress. She smiled placidly as he began to run toward her. Breathless when he finally reached her, he practically fell into her arms.

For a long moment, he couldn’t bring himself to breathe, let alone speak, for fear of breaking the spell he knew he was under. He held her tightly, his eyes closed, burning with tears. "I missed you," he managed at last, his voice small and weak.

"I’ve missed you, too," she replied, the sound of her voice a balm to his wounded soul.

"I haven’t dreamt of you in so long," he confessed.

"Did you forget about me?" she asked. Clark stepped back, aghast at the suggestion. He took her hands in his and lost himself in the depths of her sorrowful eyes, shimmering with unshed tears.

"I could never forget you," he said emphatically. He squeezed her hands gently. "This is all I have left. Unless I’ve already lost you," he murmured.

"Hold on, sweetheart. Just keep holding on," she whispered.

"I can’t keep doing this without you," Clark replied, his voice breaking.

"You have to," she insisted gently.

"What if I can’t? What if the good in me, what if it isn’t there anymore?"

"You are Clark Kent," Lois assured him. "You are the best man I know and you are stronger than you know. You have to find that and hold on to it."

"I don’t think Clark Kent exists anymore." He whispered his confession and felt her let go of his hands as she started to slip away from him. "No, please, stay," he urged, but she faded into the wind, intangible and ephemeral.

Clark woke up and exhaled a shuddering breath. He was trying. Dammit, he was trying to be the man everyone expected him to be. He was trying to remember what made Clark Kent a good man. And trying to remember how to be that man again. He’d been saved – by his birth parents, by the wonderful mother and father who’d raised him, by Lois, by Ching and Talan. Now, he was being given the chance to find something inside him that made him a man worth saving.

********

The door to her office opened. Enza stood on the opposite side, a look of surprise on her face. After a long moment, the stunned expression became a smile and he wasted no time in pulling her into his arms. Lok Sim hugged her tightly, his arms wrapped around her like he never intended to let go. He finally did, though. He let his hands rest on her arms as he looked deeply into her eyes.

"It's good to see you, Sergeant," she managed breathlessly.

"I've been discharged from active duty," he replied with a soft smile as he reached out boldly to caress her cheek. "I'm not a sergeant right now, I don't have to call you 'ma'am,' and I don't have to spend another two years pretending I don't want to do this." He tilted her chin upward and lowered his head so he could cover her lips with his. This was easily the brashest thing he'd ever done in his entire life. For a moment, she remained stone still and panic started to rise up within him. He felt like an idiot. But before he knew it, she was kissing him back fiercely. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he pulled her closer to him. Relief washed over him and then there was nothing but the sheer bliss of holding her in his arms, of her kissing him, rendering him completely senseless and oblivious to the rest of the world.

She pulled away almost hesitantly, a stunned look in her eyes. Standing on her toes, she looked up at him and gave him a ghost of a smile. "I, um…please, come inside," the normally collected, unflappable counselor stammered as she slipped her hand into his much larger one. He merely nodded, not yet trusting himself to speak and taken aback by the fact that their kiss seemed to have affected her just as deeply. Lok Sim gave her hand a gentle squeeze as he followed her into her office.

With the door closed behind them, she wrapped her arms around his waist and placed her head against his chest. "I'm so glad you're home," she murmured.

He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. "So am I," he whispered.

She looked up at him, the concern evident in her eyes, and touched his face. "Are you all right? What was it like?"

"I'm fine," he assured her, his voice soft and quiet. "And it was strange. The battle was surreal, like it wasn't really happening. It was just chaos and noise, and then it was over. The general commander captured Nor. The rebels were defeated. And it all ended. I know it's only been a few weeks, but it feels like it happened ages ago." Lok Sim took her hand and held it against his chest over his heart. He stroked the back of her hand gently with his thumb.

Enza stood on her toes again, trying to close the considerable height disparity between them. He bent down and their lips met hesitantly. He felt a jolt of electricity and his skin started to tingle. She sighed softly against his lips and his knees went weak. When he opened his eyes, he saw her smiling nervously up at him. A slight blush crept into her complexion. "I should get Thia," she said quietly. He reluctantly prepared to say his goodbyes. "She will be so happy to see you," Enza finished, surprising him.

Lok Sim smiled. "I can't wait," he replied. And he couldn't. When he'd arrived at the main colony that morning he'd gone straight to see his parents and his sisters, but he'd been just as eager to see Enza and her little niece. Enza withdrew from his embrace and he couldn't help but feel bereft. He supposed that they needed to talk about what had just happened between them, but for the moment he was content to take advantage of the celebratory mood and the sense of relief that overwhelmed the colony to be able to hold her and kiss her. She opened the door and he followed her out into the hallway, feeling his heart grow light.

********

"And so the Iros were brought into the bonds of society, to complete the circle - to make it strong, enduring, and unbreakable. They tied their fate to the other tribes and all Kryptonians came together to stand as one people, from that day onward," Lok Sim read softly, his voice low and soothing. Enza watched as he looked down at her niece, sitting right beside him, reading along about the final unification of the very last of the Kryptonian tribes. Lok Sim closed the large book gently and set it on the table.

"It's time for bed," Enza said quietly from where she stood in the doorway.

Thia looked up at her. "Already?" she asked.

"It's getting late," Enza replied. "Go get ready for bed and then we'll say goodnight to Lok Sim." Her little niece slid down from the couch and made her way to her room.

Lok Sim looked up at her from the couch. He gave her a small smile, the one that caused tiny, almost invisible laugh lines to form at the corners of his eyes. As he stood, she felt her heart rate increase in…anticipation? She realized she wanted nothing more than to close the distance between them and kiss him again. And that she had ever since their first kiss earlier in the day.

It was the atmosphere, she told herself. Charged with emotion after their triumph over Nor and Lok Sim's safe return. There was nothing wrong with the sentiment – the elation and relief that came from the war's end – but that sentiment had to be understood in its context, she tried to remind herself. In theory, that was all well and good, but somehow, her rational mind was having a difficult time persuading her not to wrap her arms around him, whisper her relief at his return, and ask him to never leave again.

His eyes, full of warmth, met hers and held her gaze. She swallowed roughly, trying to think of what to say. "I was so afraid you might not make it back. Now you're here, reading with Thia, almost like nothing happened," she said softly.

"It's hard to believe, isn't it?" he asked as he walked toward her. "You want something for so long, until it becomes the only thing you think about. And when you get it, it seems like it can't be real. Like you must be dreaming."

Standing right in front of her, too solid and real to be a dream, he reached out to touch her face gently. She closed her eyes, aware of nothing but his warm, large hand against her skin. "Being here, seeing you and Thia again, this is all I've thought about for months," he murmured.

The sound of little feet running in the hallway startled her out of her reverie. Enza stepped back and opened her eyes, already missing the feeling of Lok Sim's hand against her cheek. She smiled as Thia raced into the living room, ready for bed. The little girl practically flew into Lok Sim's arms. He picked her up easily. Thia was too old to be carried around everywhere, but Enza knew how much her niece had missed Lok Sim. He carried Thia to her room, Enza following closely behind. She watched as Lok Sim tucked her niece into bed, smoothing away a few locks of her light brown hair as he bent down to kiss her forehead.

"I'm glad you came back," Thia said quietly with a great big smile.

"So am I," Lok Sim replied, returning her grin.

Enza leaned down to kiss her niece goodnight. "I love you, little one," she said.

"I love you, Aunt Enza," Thia replied. "I love you, Lok Sim." Enza was startled. She had never said that before, and young as Thia may have been, Enza knew it was true.

"I love you, too," Lok Sim replied without hesitating.

The intimacy of the moment threw her off balance. For a brief second, it was like they were a family – a mother and father tucking their child into bed. It was a fantasy she wanted to indulge in and that frightened her. It wasn't real. She wanted to escape the complications of real life by indulging in make believe, half expecting Lok Sim's arm to come around her shoulder and the two of them to while away a few hours in the sitting room, discussing their day and their plans for the future before retiring to bed together. The thought, innocent at its inception, caused her to blush slightly.

Enza turned off the light as they retreated from the room. She felt Lok Sim's hand at the small of her back as they walked toward the sitting room. "I should go," he murmured reluctantly.

She nodded, trying not to let her disappointment show. He leaned down and she found herself standing on her toes, her eyes closed in anticipation. Their lips met as he kissed her softly. Her lips parted under the gentle pressure of his and she sighed as he threaded his hand in her hair. The kiss ended and she leaned against his strong, solid body and felt his arms wrap around her. She breathed deeply the scent of his skin, her heart pounding in her chest. How was it that he could evoke such powerful feelings in her?

"Goodnight," he whispered as he took a step backward.

She pulled him back toward her and kissed him again. "Goodnight," she said breathlessly. He looked as stunned as she felt.

"Goodnight," he repeated, smiling unsteadily, as he turned and walked out the door.

********

Lois held Jon's little hand as they walked by the storefronts in downtown Smallville. He was still bundled up in his winter coat, hat, and mittens as spring was taking its time in arriving this year. The parking lot and walkway had been cleared and salted after last week's blizzard and an embankment of dirty snow, taller than Jon, lined the outside edge of the sidewalk. "Are you hungry?" she asked him as they approached Maisie's. Jon nodded vigorously.

The bell hanging over the doorway jingled as she pushed open the door. All of the patrons at the counter looked up as they walked in. Gus and Roger, two of Maisie's most stalwart regulars, smiled at them.

"Hey Lois, hi there, Jon," Gus said warmly.

"How are you guys doing?" Roger asked.

"Say 'hi' to Roger and Gus," Lois said to her son.

"Hi!" Jon replied enthusiastically.

"You got robbed out of that Pulitzer," Roger noted.

Lois merely smiled. The Pulitzer Committee never gave the award to the same journalist twice in such a short period of time. "It was great to be nominated again."

"Your mom is a pretty terrific reporter. Did you know that Jon?" Gus asked.

Jon nodded, wide-eyed, though Lois knew he didn't actually understand.

"Thanks, Gus," Lois replied.

Maisie bustled over with a couple of menus and showed them to a booth. "What can I get you two today?" she asked with a pleasant smile.

"Grilled cheese again?" she asked Jon. He grinned and nodded. Lois looked up at Maisie. "He's still in his grilled cheese phase."

"Honey, I'm not sure it's a phase. His daddy used to come in here all the way through college and order a grilled cheese sandwich and soup," the older woman replied with a smile. Lois smiled wistfully. Every day, there were new reminders of how much Jon was like his father.

Roger spun around on his stool. "You still following things out in Kinwara?"

"Yeah," Lois replied reluctantly. She wanted so desperately to keep the two halves of her world distinct. There was war and diplomacy and politics in one sphere – a sphere that required larger than life figures, engaged in a constant, harrowing struggle. Then there was everyday life – home, family, friends. Since she'd made Lois Lane, reporter as much a part of the fight in Kinwara as Ultrawoman had been, her hope of keeping the two worlds from bleeding into each other was a foolish one. She had been the one who wanted to bring the war home. She’d done everything in her power to bring it to the breakfast table, the student unions, and the office water cooler. She’d demanded that people pay attention, even when they didn’t want to. Now that she’d gotten what she wanted, she could scarcely complain about it.

"You haven’t written about it in a while," Roger ventured.

She frowned, deep in thought. It was true, she wrote about Kinwara less and less often these days. "I guess I just don’t have an angle," she admitted. "The war’s over, I’m not sure what else to say." Or do. The shooting war had ended, but she still felt like she was in a holding pattern – expected to monitor the ceasefire, patrol the borders, and help the relief efforts. She had little patience for it, though, she realized. Maybe it was burnout. Maybe she wasn’t cut out to be Ultrawoman for this long. Maybe she’d done what she needed to and she should find a way to move on.

But she’d made a promise. She’d taken on the role in Clark’s absence so he could go with a clear conscience; so he wouldn’t leave wondering who on Earth would pay the price for Superman’s disappearance. Besides, she didn’t feel overwhelmed anymore. She felt underutilized.

There was no dearth of irony here – she’d spent so long feeling like she was treading water in a rapidly rising tide. She’d hoped for some respite – for a little bit of breathing space. Now that she was no longer being called on at all hours to perform impossible acts of heroics, she was anxious and frustrated. Surely, there was more she could do than patrol the borders and help set up check points, wasn’t there? Wasn’t there some way she could help get justice for the war’s victims? Wasn’t there some way she could help right the past wrongs? Apparently there wasn’t. Justice seemed like a lost cause and she couldn’t help bring the victims closure any more than she could secure it for herself. So she should just learn to accept the fact that she hadn’t finished the job. She’d come up short and her best hadn’t been enough.

"You did a lot of good, you know?" Gus said. "You changed a lot of people’s minds."

"Mine included," Roger added.

"And he’s as stubborn as they come." Gus grinned.

Maisie arrived with their sandwiches. "Here you go," she said cheerfully. Lois gave her a faint smile.

"I just wish I could have done more," Lois murmured to Gus and Roger.

"You do what you can with what you’ve got, the rest is out of your hands," Gus replied simply. It was a sage thought – she’d heard a hundred variations of it before. Hell, she’d said it before.

She watched as Jon pulled his sandwich into gooey pieces. "Up here, I know that," she said, tapping one finger against her temple.

"But here, it’s a different story," Gus finished, putting his hand over his heart.

"You got that right," Lois replied.

"Well, this whole town is proud of you," Roger said. "For what that’s worth."

"It means an awful lot," Lois said.