Previously:
"I'm sorry," he finally said softly. "I'm sorry that I hurt you. I'm sorry that I'm still hurting you. But is it worth the risk, Lois?"
She sighed and turned away from him. "You're the one who thinks it's not worth the risk, Clark. Since it's my life at risk, I would think my opinion should matter."
"Your opinion does matter," he said patiently.
"Not enough, though. My opinion doesn't matter enough to change your mind."
He shook his head at the futility of making her understand him. "So you would be with me, even if you knew that might lead to horrible consequences for you?"
"No, I would be with you because I love you. No one knows what's going to happen or how it's going to end. If it came right down to it, and I knew for certain that someone would use me to get to you, I'd still pick you. I'd rather have those few days or weeks or however long we get that are real, and happy, than to have an entire lifetime of lonely safety without you."
Clark closed his eyes. "I can't ask you to make that decision."
"You can't make it for me either, Clark."
He reminded himself of his promise not to argue with her anymore. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Me, too," she admitted and wrapped her arms around his pillow in a fierce hug. "Me, too."
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Platonic
Part 5/?
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Clark was absolutely wrong. He had been wrong for nearly two hours now and Lois was enjoying every minute of it. The only downside was that she was never going to be able to say 'I told you so' since she had never said a word when he first led them in the wrong direction. Somehow it was enough just for her to know he was wrong. Nearly five miles worth of wrong by now. Five miles in the wrong direction - it was a small price to pay. Lois fought a grin as she doggedly followed him. It couldn't possibly be much further now before he was going to have to--
Clark stopped, looking up at the high walls of the narrow canyon they had hiked into. He had been fighting the need to recheck the map for a while now - not wanting to look hesitant in front of Lois. Now, it was becoming more and more apparent that they needed to check their position. He opened the map, holding it so that Lois could look at it with him.
"I think..." He looked at their surroundings and then back at the map. "I think we took a wrong turn."
Lois didn't say anything. She shrugged at him and then bent to retie the laces on her boot.
Clark looked at the map, putting his finger on the box canyon he now realized they were actually in. It was right next to the canyon they were supposed to have gone through. He looked up, judging immediately that it was too steep for Lois to climb unaided. He toyed with the thought of just flying them over the ridge. If they didn't have to backtrack they might actually still win this competition. Except flying them would be cheating. After his insistence that they play above-board, he could hardly suggest it.
"We need to turn around," he said glumly, "and go back the way we came."
Lois straightened back up and nodded pleasantly. "If you say so."
Clark narrowed his eyes at her. She seemed almost... gleeful. They had been the first team to leave that morning and he had attributed her high spirits to her confidence that they were sure to win this orienteering session. Now, miles off-track and destined for last place, she still seemed happy about it.
"Why are you being so agreeable?" he asked suspiciously.
Lois blinked at him. "You're seriously going to argue with me because I'm being nice?"
Clark frowned at her. "Why are you being nice?"
She gave him a wide grin. "I'm always nice to you."
He shook his head. "No, not always."
"Maybe I'm turning over a new leaf. If you can turn the other cheek, I can be nice."
"It's kind of creepy," he told her and started walking back the way they had come.
"Creepy?" she asked as she came alongside him.
"It feels wrong somehow," he tried to explain. It was wrong. She had to be up to something.
"Maybe it's just your guilty conscience?" she suggested.
"My guilty conscience? What do I have to feel guilty about?" Clark shook his head, beginning to sense exactly what she was implying.
"Absolutely nothing," she said breezily. "You're always right. It must be amazing being you."
"I get it, Lois. You're laying it on a little thick, don't you think?"
"Laying what on a little thick?" she asked innocently.
He stopped and took hold of her arm, turning her to face him. "How long have you known?"
"Known what?" She looked up at him in manufactured bafflement.
"That we were going in the wrong direction," he clarified. "How long have you known that?"
"Oh." She bit her lip, trying to decide just how honest she should be. Eh, to hell with him. She'd tell him the truth. "I knew it as soon as you suggested this little 'short-cut'."
"So why didn't you say anything?" He stared at her in astonishment.
"Why should I?" she asked with a shrug. "You're the one who always knows which way is north. Why would I ever question your decisions?"
He let out an exasperated sigh. "Is this about my not respecting your opinion?"
She folded her arms and tipped her head back to look at him. "I don't know - is it?"
"I can't believe you'd hike all this way just to prove me wrong," he muttered and then turned to continue walking.
She caught up to him, but didn't look over at him as she lightly said, "Clark, we haven't even scratched the surface of what I'll do to prove you wrong."
"We're going to lose," he needled, hoping to upset her.
"Yep," she agreed happily. "I think we are."
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They were the last team to arrive back at camp. Lois sat down on the log by the fire with a weary sigh. She was tired, but it was the good kind of tired. It had been worth every extra step to illustrate his fallibility. Clark, who had become increasingly sullen during the long hike back to camp, walked past the fire to where Jim and George stood on the fringes of the meadow.
Lois frowned at his retreating back. Was he really going to stay upset just because she had called him on being wrong? She shook her head in disgust. She was the only person in the world - with the possible exception of his parents - who knew that Superman was sometimes a petulant, stubborn know-it-all.
"How are you doing?" Rich asked, taking a seat next to her.
"I think I'm about one hike away from getting blisters," she answered.
"Thicker socks," Rich suggested. "You need thicker socks. Or you could double up and use two thin pairs."
Lois considered it for a few moments and then gave Rich a distracted nod. "Okay," she said. "I'll try that."
She walked back to their tent, sitting just inside the unzipped flap and reached for her backpack. On impulse, she decided to borrow a pair of Clark's socks instead. His were thicker - maybe they would work better? She rummaged through his backpack before figuring out that he had all his socks stuffed way down at the bottom. One pair seemed heavier than the others and she pulled them free of the pack. Was there was something inside them? Curious to see what Clark would hide in his socks she unrolled them. A small black velvet box dropped into her lap.
For several seconds she simply stared at it, not quite believing what she had just found. Her chest tightened and her throat ached as she finally picked the box up. Even though she knew what was inside she had to open it. The box opened with a soft 'snap' and she stared at the ring. Her heart began to hammer painfully inside her chest as she raced through a gamut of emotions before settling on confused. Why had he brought it? Was he planning to propose again? That couldn't be it - he was the one who was so emphatic that they couldn't be together.
So why had he brought the ring?
Lois glanced guiltily over her shoulder, half-expecting that Clark would have heard the box open. The tent's flap fluttered in the breeze and she saw that he was still talking to Jim and George. She looked back at the ring, taking the opportunity to finally get a good look at it.
It was beautiful as it sparkled in the sunlight. For a moment she wanted to take it out of the box and try it on. She glanced outside again - he was still engrossed in conversation. She decided it wasn't worth the risk. Her numb fingers closed the box and carefully replaced it in his socks before wedging them as far down in his backpack as she could manage. For a few more seconds she sat and stared at his pack in confused wonderment.
Why had he brought the ring?
She left the tent and looked across the clearing to where Clark stood talking to the others. He must have sensed her gaze because he looked over. She gave him half a smile before turning away and moving quickly up the trail behind their tent. With each footstep her mind raced trying to solve the puzzle. Why had he brought the ring?
Now that she was moving, she found she couldn't stop. She took the trail higher and higher until she was at the vantage spot high above the camp. Through the trees she could see the distant figures of everyone in camp. Clark was stacking cords of wood along with Jim. Jenny and Brenda were coming back from the lake with pots of water to boil. Her chore, Lois realized. She was supposed to have helped with the water and fire tonight.
She heard a sound behind her and looked over her shoulder to see Dave emerge from the trees.
"Oh, Lois, I'm sorry. I didn't know anyone was up here. Am I intruding on your personal time?"
"No, it's fine. I'm leaving now. I'm supposed to be helping with the chores down there."
Dave came and sat down next to her, letting out a long, contented sigh. "By the time you get back there won't be much left to do. Stay for a while, we'll tell them I was critiquing your woodcraft skills."
"I don't have any woodcraft skills," she said ruefully.
"Then let's talk about Clark."
"Clark?" Her eyes found him, now kneeling and helping to start the fire.
"What's the story there? If you're engaged, where's the ring?"
Lois let out a nervous laugh. The ring? The ring was in Clark's backpack and there was no making any sense of that one. Why? Why? Why? That question was the only thing her dazed mind could focus on.
"I turned him down," she admitted. "When Clark first asked me to marry him, I turned him down. It felt like everything was going so fast. I didn't say no, really, so much as I told him I needed time to think."
"That sounds reasonable."
"It hurt him, though. And then he got it into his head that..." For a moment her mind stuttered. She couldn't tell Dave the truth. She opted for the closest lie. "That our jobs were so risky that it would be better not to get involved. I was literally about to say 'yes' when he broke up with me. But there was no discussion, no chance to tell him he was being paranoid. We were over, just like that. He thinks we can still be friends and I..." She trailed off and took a deep breath, willing herself not to cry.
"You what?"
"I can't be friends with him. Every time I see him it's like my heart breaks all over again. I hate that I still care about him. I can't be his friend. Not now, anyway."
"So how did you two end up here?"
"Our boss sent us. He doesn't know that we broke up. He thinks we're just going through a rough patch." Lois nudged a pebble with her toe until it pitched over the edge into the trees below them. "He brought the ring with him."
"I'm sorry?"
"Clark. He brought the ring. I found it by accident in his backpack. Why would he bring the ring when he's absolutely written off the possibility of being with me?"
"Introducing you as his fiancee doesn't sound like he's written off the possibility, does it?"
Lois hugged her knees to her chest. "Maybe he was just afraid someone would break into his apartment while he was gone and steal it?"
"Lois, people can waste an entire lifetime nursing grudges and hurting each other. Do you love him?"
She watched the far-away figure of Clark below her, seeing him tip his head back and laugh along with Jim. What were they laughing about? Her melancholy deepened - how long had it been since she had seen Clark laugh like that? She missed his laugh. She missed him. Did she love him? She didn't even need to ask - she knew that she did. Her life would be so much simpler if she could just stop loving him.
Dave was watching her, his eyes sympathetic as he waited for her to answer.
"Yes," she whispered and nodded. "Yes, I love him."
"Then tell him that. Clark certainly appears to be trying to work towards an improved relationship with you, or am I mistaken in that impression? And he's brought the engagement ring. That would seem to indicate that he's working up his courage to ask again. Are the problems between you so immense that you could never work through them?"
"I don't know." Lois shook her head. "I don't know what to think anymore. I don't know what he wants from me. He told me that we could only be friends because he doesn't want me to get hurt. How does breaking my heart protect me?"
"Have you ever considered what the core reason is behind Clark's need to protect you?"
"He's a control freak?" Lois ventured.
"Or perhaps Clark is projecting his fears onto you? It would seem that his greatest fear is losing you."
"So why push me away?"
"It may not make much sense to us, but I'll bet that Clark has convinced himself that giving you up is the best way to love you. If he didn't care about your relationship at all, he wouldn't be trying to make amends now."
Lois looked away, back down towards camp in time to see Clark disappear into the trees near their tent. He had brought the ring - she just couldn't shake that fact. Why? Why had he done it? Had he planned to propose to her again? What other reason could there be?
"How do I know that he won't break my heart again? How do I know that I can trust him?" she asked softly.
Dave spread his hands and gave her a small smile. "That's a question only you can answer."
"He didn't get even with me last night after I pushed him in the lake, you know. When I asked him why he said he just wanted me to trust him again."
"It's a small thing, I grant you, but do you trust him to keep his word about that?"
Lois fell silent and considered what Dave had said. Did she trust Clark not to get even with her? Yes. But there was a huge difference between that and trusting him with her heart again. "Yes," she finally whispered, "I can trust him that much."
"Good," Dave said. "That's a good start."
Lois stood up to leave and then paused. "Dave, is it true that you lose most of your body heat through the top of your head?"
Dave nodded. "Yes."
"What about zipping your sleeping bags together to keep warm?"
"If you really want to stay warm you should strip naked first."
She blushed deeply and turned to go.
"Hey, Lois?"
She looked over her shoulder. "Yes?"
Dave winked at her. "Make sure he gives you the ring before you go stripping."
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All through dinner she was dying to ask him. There was no good way to bring up subject. Especially not in front of everyone else. As they were climbing into their sleeping bags - and were finally alone - she found her voice curiously gone. After the way she had given him an object lesson in being wrong there was simply no way to ask him. Not without sounding needy or desperate, anyway.
"Lois?" Clark asked softly after several minutes of silence had gone by. "Are you still awake?"
"Yes." Her heart began to pound just as painfully as when she had found the ring.
"Did you really hike all that way just to prove me wrong?"
"Yes," she admitted quietly.
"There's a difference, you know, between being wrong about something on a map and being wrong about, well, other stuff."
"I know," she answered. "But there's also a difference between being concerned and overreacting."
He sighed softly but didn't answer. She lay there, debating with herself over whether to ask or not. She just had to know.
"Clark? I was going to borrow a pair of your socks earlier..."
His breath caught in his throat and suddenly he was afraid of her next words. "Okay," he said, fighting to keep the word casual-sounding.
An uneasy silence lay between them as they both waited for the other to speak. When the silence began to feel heavy she quietly asked, "Why did you bring the ring?"
Clark's mind swam. He should have taken it back to Metropolis as soon as he realized that he couldn't see her wearing it as a lie.
"I just... it was a spur of the moment thing. The night I brought you the pillow, I brought it back with me. I was thinking that since we were supposed to be engaged maybe you ought to have a ring."
For a moment she was almost relieved. Here was an explanation she hadn't considered. "So why didn't you give it to me to wear?" she asked.
"I, well, I just couldn't," he temporized. How could explain his feelings to her?
He couldn't? Couldn't what? Suddenly her throat ached. He didn't want to see her wearing that ring at all. Was that because it was too painful a memory or because he had changed his mind completely?
"So you weren't going to propose to me again?" she managed to whisper.
"No," he said softly. "I wasn't."
Lois took in a breath, held it and then let it go. "Okay. Well... good. At least we have that cleared up." She prided herself on being able to say the words normally when it felt as though her heart had just been stomped on.
As the minutes ticked by she found herself shaking, though she wasn't quite sure if it was from anger, hurt or embarrassment. Unable to lie there any longer, she sat up decisively and pulled on her boots. She grabbed a flashlight and left the tent. For a moment she stood in front of the tent, uncertain where she wanted to go. It didn't matter, she decided. It didn't matter as long as it wasn't here.
She made her way over the uneven terrain to the lake. She sat down on the shore, staring blindly at the moon's reflection on the water. Then she covered her face with her hands and quit fighting the tears. She tried to cry as quietly as she could manage, hoping the entire time that he wasn't listening.
When she ran out of tears she simply sat there, her forehead on her knees, and listened to the soft slap of water against the shore. She felt utterly drained; unable even to work up the energy to go back to the tent. The cold seemed to have settled inside her and she shivered, tightening her arms around her legs to keep warm. A long, shuddering sigh that ended in his name escaped from her. Could he hear her? Was he listening? She took another breath and whispered it again. "Clark?"
The words she had been holding back since he had told her they couldn't be together now tumbled from her lips. "I miss you," she confessed, torn between hope and fear that he was listening. "I miss you so much. And I can't do this anymore. I'm tired of being angry with you. I'm tired of hiding from you. I'm tired of all of it. I'm just tired." She let out a choked sputter that was half-laugh, half-sob. "I'm even too tired to walk back to the tent."
She closed her eyes and hugged her knees closer to her chest, shivering to keep warm. Her teeth were beginning to chatter as she continued her one-sided conversation with him. "I feel like I've been living a lie for the past month, pretending not to care about you. How did you manage to live a double life for so long? Weren't you tired? Didn't you just want to scream from frustration sometimes?"
"All the time," he said softly as he sat down next to her. "I hated hiding from you. I always wanted to tell you the truth."
Lois didn't startle at his sudden appearance. From the moment she had whispered his name she had been certain he would come to her.
"I'm cold." She turned towards him, leaning gratefully against the warmth of his shoulder.
His arm went around her and then he pulled her onto his lap, cradling her in his arms like a sleepy child. His hand smoothed over her back to warm her. He felt utterly lost now. The sound of her soft sobs had torn at his conscience. Until tonight he had not fully comprehended the damage he had done. Was there any way in the world to fix it? He knew she wanted him to admit he had been wrong - but that wasn't going to change anything, not really.
"Thanks," she murmured into his neck. She closed her eyes and smiled at the rasp of his stubble against her forehead. He smelled like a campfire and she wondered if he would taste smoky. "You're so warm."
"And you're a popsicle. Let's get you back to the tent." He rose with her in his arms and started walking back to their tent.
"Okay," she said docilely. "Let's warm me up. What if we zipped the bags together? Would that be okay?" She buried her face in his neck, closing her eyes as she was lulled closer to sleep by the rock and sway of being in his arms as he walked.
"Sure," he answered. He rested his chin on her shoulder, tilting his head so that his cheek was touching hers. He held her a little closer and moved at super-speed to get her back to the tent sooner. Outside the tent he lifted his chin and softly asked, "Lois?"
"Hmmm?"
"We're here. Can you stand for just a few seconds while I get the bags zipped together?"
"Mmm, sure."
He set her down and she swayed sleepily but remained standing. It only took a couple of seconds to put the bags together and then he knelt in the entrance to the tent and took her hand.
"Come here." He helped guide her into the tent, pulling back one side of the bag so that she could lie down. He took her boots off and pulled the bag over her, zipping it up until only the top few inches of her head were visible.
She sleepily murmured his name and something inside him, something he had fiercely fought to maintain for weeks, melted completely. He had felt the first few trickles of the coming meltdown as he had listened to her crying by the lake. Now, he realized, it was too late. He was a drowning man and she was all he had left. He slid in next to her and she snuggled closer to him, her hand fisting in his t-shirt as her leg slid between his, twining her body with his.
"Are you warmer now?" he asked.
"Mmmhmm." She sighed softly and then she whispered, "Clark?"
"Yes?"
"What if you're wrong? About us? Have you even considered that? What if you're wrong? Don't you miss me at all?"
"I do miss you," he whispered into her hair. "I love you." He swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump that had suddenly blocked his throat. "I never stopped. Lois, I never will. I love you." He stroked her hair, soothing both of them with the repetitive motion. "I just, god, I just can't lose you." His voice broke on the last word and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly. "I can't lose you, not like that. I'd rather you spent the rest of your life hating me than to see you hurt."
"I tried," she murmured. "I really tried to hate you."
"Lois." His voice had become thick with emotion. "What if I gave up being Superman? I just won't do it anymore. If there's no Superman, there's no reason for anyone to hurt you."
Lois lifted her head, shocked into wakefulness at the idea.
"No," she said slowly. "No, that's not fair to you. Or to me. Or to anyone you might save in the future. I can't do that, Clark. I can't be the reason you stop helping people. It would kill you. Eventually it would kill us. Superman isn't just a cape and tights. He's hope and a reason for people to believe that good is possible. I can't do it. I love you, Clark. But I also love Superman - the idea of him. I can't be the reason that Superman disappears."
"Then what do we do?" he asked.
"No more fighting," she said. "Let's just be for a couple of days and see what happens. If we're friends, if we're more than friends, if we just can't make it work - I'm tired of having to fake everything. Can't we just be ourselves? No pressure from work. No villains. No Superman running off to save someone. Just you and me." She let out a soft laugh. "You and me and thousands of acres of wilderness."
"I can do that."
She felt instantly lighter and she snuggled closer against him. "Let's just be like this. This is all I ever wanted - to have you hold me at the end of the day."
"This is all I ever wanted, too, just to be able to hold you at the end of the day."
"S'nice," she murmured and patted his shoulder.
"Yes, it is." That was an understatement, he thought. This was perfect. He realized he was in so much trouble now. He was never going to be able to let her go. There had to be a way to make this work. He had meant it - he was willing to give up being Superman. He had only been Superman for a few years. It wasn't the first time he had considered giving up the superhero role. How many times had he quit, if only in his mind?
"Clark?"
"Yes?"
"It was the rule of V's."
"What?"
"The rule of V's. Rich told me about the rule of V's on a contour map. Because of erosion the further a stream travels, the wider it becomes so the V will always point upstream. The stream you had us following didn't make a V. That's how I knew that we were heading into a dead end."
"Are we heading into a dead end now?"
She snuggled closer against him. "No."
He smiled at the authoritative way she spoke the word. "How can you be so sure?"
"Because..." She had to pause and clear her throat. "Because I trust in us."
He tipped his head, letting his cheek rest against the top of her head. "Us," he repeated and closed his eyes.
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End 5/?
