Just in case you weren't aware, this story comes with a warning. See the WHAM thread, if you have any doubts about reading on.
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From Part 1
His throat was still bobbing feverishly when a sharp knock sounded on the door. Lois glared at it, not taking her hands from Clark’s chest. “Who could that be? It’s after midnight.”
“Do you want me to see who it is?” Clark’s voice was still not normal.
“No. If we ignore it, they might go away.” She reached up to kiss him, her mouth ajar, her tongue poised.
The knock sounded again – more emphatic this time.
Lois pulled away. “I’ll get rid of them,” she said. “Don’t move.” She walked to the door and opened it impatiently.
ADRIFT
Part 2
Two police officers looked back at her, one male and older, with a fatherly countenance, the other, female and much younger, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else. Lois felt Clark’s hands settle on her shoulders.
“Ms Lane?” the older one said. “Ms Lois Lane?”
“Yes.”
“I’m afraid we have bad news.”
Her heart began to thump. “Wh …”
“Your parents were in a car wreck,” he said gently. “They are both –“
“My parents?” she shrieked.
The male police officer nodded, his compassion stark. “I’m sorry to have to inform you they are both deceased.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lois snapped. “They can’t *both* be dead.”
“I am so sorry,” the police officer said. He stepped forward, face furrowed with sympathy.
Lois shook her head. “No,” she said, raising her hand to ward him off. “No, you don’t understand. They couldn’t possibly have been together.”
The officer’s eyes closed momentarily and he gathered a big breath. “They were, Ms Lane,” he said with quiet composure. “They were in your father’s car. Another vehicle ran a red light and they were both killed instantly. Neither of them would have suffered.”
Lois looked to the other officer, searching for the explanation, the sick joke, the reason why they had come. Maybe this was on-the-job-training for the young one. How to deliver bad news. “There’s some mistake.”
The young female swallowed. “There’s no mistake,” she said, voice strangled.
“But you don’t understand,” Lois insisted. “They haven’t been together … not in any sense … for years. It’s simply not possible they were in the same car.”
The veteran police officer glanced at his notes. “Mrs Ellen Janice Lane and Doctor Samuel Howard Lane. Both listed you as their next of kin.”
Clark’s hands slipped from Lois's shoulders to her arms as he moved closer, his upper body solid against her back. Lois’s wildly thumping heart vibrated in her ears despite the fact she didn’t believe this for one moment. “There is absolutely no way my mother would be with my father,” she said.
But as she spoke, even she could hear her resolve drain away.
“There is no doubt,” the older police officer said, his sympathy chilling her heart. “We don’t inform the family until we are absolutely certain of our facts.”
“What do I have to do?” Lois heard herself ask.
“You don’t have to do anything tonight. Tomorrow, you will need to make arrangements.” He held a piece of paper towards her. “Here are the details.”
Lois saw Clark’s hand reach forward and take the paper. “Thank you,” he said.
She saw the officer glance behind her. “Is there anything we can do?” he asked.
“No, thank you,” Clark said. “I will look after her.”
“We’re very sorry for your loss.”
The two officers turned and walked away. Clark leant around her and shut the door. Then he seized her and crushed her against his body.
After only a short time, Lois withdrew and stared at his shirt. “You did up your buttons,” she said, as if it was the most important fact in the world. “And tucked in your shirt.”
He pulled her to him again, his large hand cradling her head into his shoulder.
She didn’t cry, didn’t speak, didn’t move.
She couldn’t. She wasn’t feeling anything. Just a numbness which had descended like a dense cloud between her and reality.
This wasn’t happening. It was just a dream. It had to be. Mom would never be with Dad. It simply wasn’t possible.
She’d wake up soon.
She’d wake up and call both of them.
And this would be nothing more than a harrowing dream.
+-+-+-+
Sometime later, Lois pushed herself away from the shelter of Clark’s embrace and looked around her apartment. Nothing had changed. Clark’s jacket and tie were on her sofa – the only things out of place.
She walked over and picked up his jacket. She hung it on the back of a chair. Then she carefully placed his tie over it.
She went back to her sofa and sat on the edge. She clasped her hands in front of her and stared at the floor.
Clark crouched beside her, his hands cloaking hers. “Lois,” he said, unsteadily. “I am *so* sorry.”
She looked at him. His shock and distress were etched on his face. Yet, still, she felt nothing.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked, so incredibly gently.
Lois registered that he had asked a question, but answering words were unreachable. She shook her head.
His grip on her hands tightened. “Lois, honey,” he said. “We should call your sister.”
Lucy!
“Would you like me to do it?” Clark asked.
“Uh ...” Again her eyes scanned the room, although she was unsure what she was looking for.
“Where is her number?”
“My ... bag.”
Clark fetched her bag. She opened it and pulled out her address book. She handed it to Clark. He searched for the page and held it open. “This one?”
Lois nodded.
He crouched beside her, hand on her arm. “Are you all right to do this?” he said, his eyes brimming with concern.
She nodded and took the book from Clark. “I can do it.” It seemed that her words originated from someplace else.
Clark brought her the phone. She took it and peered at it, then glanced to the book, the words and numbers meaningless. Clark eased the phone from her grip and dialled, then put it back in her hand.
It rang for long enough that Lois jumped when her sister finally answered. “Lucy Lane." She sounded impatient. Annoyed even.
Lois felt her insides churn. How could she protect Lucy? How could she cushion the blow she was about to inflict?
“Lucy here. Who *is* this?”
“It’s Lo..is.” Her throat was so tight, her words scraped out muffled.
“Lois? Is that you? I can barely hear you. We must have a bad line.”
“Lucy?”
“Lois? What’s wrong? You sound awful.”
Something clicked inside Lois. Something switched her from zombie-like numbness to automaton efficiency. “Lucy? Are you alone?”
“No, Aaron is here. My ... boyfriend.”
Aaron? He must be new. “Is he ... nice?”
“Lois,” Lucy said, with clear exasperation. “Since when do you call me at this time of night to ask if my boyfriend is nice?”
Lois couldn’t find a response.
“He’s great,” Lucy said wearily. “Just great.”
“How long have you been with him?”
“Three weeks,” she said in a tone that dared Lois to make an issue of it.
Lois groaned. Three weeks. What sort of support could he offer her? You’ve only known Clark seven weeks, a small voice niggled from the void of her mind. Her eyes swung to where Clark was standing, close enough that she couldn’t fail to feel his support, far enough away that she couldn’t possibly feel he was intruding. With telling certainty she knew that Aaron, whoever he might be, couldn’t hope to be there for Lucy the same way Clark would be for her.
“Lois? What’s wrong?” There was a shadow of fear in Lucy’s voice now.
“How old is Aaron?”
“*Lois*.” Her exasperation was back, intensified ten-fold. “He’s twenty-two! Happy now?”
Lois groaned again. “Lucy, I think you should sit down.”
“Lois?” Her fear had returned. “Please,” she begged. “Please tell me what this is about.”
Again, the ocean of Lois’s vocabulary receded to the distant reaches of her mind. How could she say it? Was there *any* way to alleviate Lucy’s suffering? She felt a sudden intense sympathy for her little sister – Lucy, who didn’t even know her life had shattered. “Lucy, the police came here. It’s Mom and Dad.”
“What about them?” Lucy said in the scared little-girl voice Lois hadn’t heard for a long time.
“They were in a car wreck.”
“But they’re OK, right? In the hospital? I’ll come now. Tell me which hospital.”
“They’re not in the hospital,” Lois said. “They died, Lucy, b.b.b.both of ...”
Lois’s body began to shake uncontrollably. Her eyes stung, but remained staunchly dry. Clark moved in and sat beside her. He put one arm around her and drew her into his shoulder. He took the phone from her quivering hand. “Lucy?” he said into the phone. “I’m Clark Kent. I’m Lois’s ... I’m here with Lois. I’m so sorry.”
Lois could hear the pitch of Lucy’s on-the-edge-of-control voice, but could distinguish no words.
“They were together,” she heard Clark say. “No, we don’t know why.”
Lois reached for the phone, straining every muscle to clamp her shaking. She put the phone to her ear and heard the anguished weeping of her sister. “Lucy?”
The sobbing lessened slightly. “Y.y.y.es?”
“We can’t do anything tonight. Whatever needs to be done, we can do tomorrow.”
“I’m coming now.”
“No!” The sharpness of her own protest felt like a slap to her face. Lois swallowed and controlled her voice with sheer willpower. “Lucy, you can’t. It’s too far and it’s dark and you’re upset.”
“I’m coming now, Lois.” Lois recognised that tone. It meant – you might be the big sister, but you can’t boss me.
“Please don’t, Lucy,” Lois begged. “If something happened to you ...” Lois took a deep, shaky breath and tried to continue. She couldn’t.
She could hear Lucy crying and for a moment, envied her. Lois’s eyes remained dry, but her insides felt as if she was emerging from hours of gut-wrenching weeping. Clark unfolded from her. “Superman?” he mouthed.
Lois put her hand over the phone. “Would he?” she whispered.
“We could ask.”
“Lucy?” Lois said into the phone. “Listen to me. I will try to send Superman for you tomorrow morning.”
“S..s..super...?”
“He’ll fly you here. It’ll take you hours to drive. Even if you left now, you wouldn’t be here until morning and you’ll be so tired.”
“All right.” Lucy’s tears had lessened but the hollow defeat of her quivering words seemed infinitely worse.
“Try to rest,” Lois said, knowing it would be impossible.
“OK.” Lucy’s desolation carved fresh wounds through Lois’s heart.
“Lucy, do you have someone who could come and be with you tonight? A friend?”
“Aaron’s here.”
“OK.” Lois hesitated. I love you, Lucy. The words were sitting right there, just waiting for the breath to carry them forward. Lois wanted to say them. But she couldn’t remember saying them. Not to her sister. Not to her parents. Not ever.
And now was just too turbulent to step into anything else unknown.
Neither spoke. Lois could hear her sister sniffling. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Lucy.”
Lucy didn’t respond. Then, after a few more moments of wordlessness, she hung up.
Lois stared at the phone in her hand. Clark gently took it from her and sat beside her. “Do you want me to see if I can contact Superman to bring her now?”
Lois shook her head, staring at her feet.
Clark gathered her against his body, his arm secure around her shoulders. “It might be easier for both of you if you were together.”
Lois shook her head again. “Not tonight,” she said firmly. She knew Clark wouldn’t understand. She knew he would ache to be with his family if tragedy struck them. But she and Lucy hadn’t been close for years and the thought of facing her sister caused Lois’s already clenched stomach to spasm unbearably.
She felt Clark kiss her head. “Is there anyone else we should contact?” he said quietly.
“Uncle Mike,” she said tonelessly.
Clark started to reach for her address book, but she laid her hand on his arm to stop him. “Why would they be together?” she said in the faraway voice. It was her voice, but it didn’t seem to belong to her. No connection at all.
“Could they have reconciled?” Clark asked.
The question swirled around her mind. Surely not. Surely not. Her parents had barely been able to tolerate being in the same room as far back as Lois’s memories could stretch. “I just can’t see it,” she said.
“But you didn’t see them much.”
“I saw them more than they deserved,” she sparked.
Clark’s arm tightened around her and she could feel his cheek resting on the top of her head. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said softly.
“I know,” she said, flatly. “I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for, honey.” She could feel his breath in her hair as he spoke. “I only meant that if they were seeing each other, you may not have known about it.”
The phone shrilled across their low voices. Lois startled, stomach pitching erratically.
Clark’s hand strummed gentle reassurance the length of her upper arm. “It’s OK,” he soothed.
He answered the phone and Lois didn’t recognise the voice on the other end. Clark spoke a little, listened a lot. When he hung up, he said, “That was Bill Henderson. He sends his condolences.”
“Oh.”
Clark slipped from the sofa and knelt before her so he could look into her eyes. “He says it was an accident, Lois. There’s no story, no hidden agendas. They were just in the wrong place when a drunk driver failed to stop at a red light.”
“Has he been charged?”
“No.” Clark reached for her cheek and stroked along it. “He didn’t survive.”
“Oh.” Lois stared ahead, not seeing anything. “I should ring Uncle Mike.” She blanched at the thought of a repeat of her conversation with Lucy.
“Would you like me to do it?” Clark asked.
“I should do it.”
“I can do it if you want me to.”
“Would you?”
“Of course I will.” Clark pointed to Uncle Mike’s name in her book. “Is this the right one?”
Lois nodded.
“If he offers to come here now, do you want him to?”
“No,” Lois whimpered.
Clark didn’t ask why, which was a relief because any sort of explanation was beyond her right now. “Would you like him to call other family?”
“Yes,” she croaked.
Clark dialled the number and Lois waited.
She heard her Uncle Mike answer and heard Clark introduce himself and explain what had happened. Even as she listened, his words seemed completely removed from her. Like it had happened to someone else’s parents. She’d witnessed this before; countless times as a reporter, she’d watched other people reel in shock when faced with the ungraspable.
This felt no different. It felt like she could turn and walk away – walk away to the normality of a still-intact world.
But, she couldn’t.
Uncle Mike and Clark talked for a few moments. Uncle Mike must have asked how she was. Clark said, “As you’d expect.” Then he said, “Do you know why they were together?”
Uncle Mike answered, then Clark said goodbye and hung up.
“Why?” Lois asked in a distant voice.
Clark twisted so he could face her directly. His hands were on her – one on her shoulder and one holding her hand. On his face was the pain she knew lay in wait for her, if she ever ventured from the numbing cloud. “Do you know what today is?” he asked.
“You mean what date it is?”
He nodded. “It’s September 16th. Well, it was ... before midnight.”
There was no recognition. Even with her mind behaving like cotton balls, there was nothing to make today more special than any other. Except for her first date with Clark, she remembered. And, from now on, the date she became an orphan.
“Today ... yesterday was your parents’ Thirtieth Wedding Anniversary.”
So?
“Your Uncle Mike said they made a pact on their first wedding anniversary that they would go back to that particular restaurant twenty-nine years later.”
“And they did?” she said with cold disbelief.
“It seems likely.”
“But, *why*?”
“Old times’ sake?”
“The old times weren’t worth celebrating,” she said dismissively.
“Maybe they were happy ... once.”
Lois stared mindlessly at the fish tank. “How do your parents celebrate their anniversary?” she asked, her eyes tracking the fish.
She heard him sigh. She also heard him try to cover it. “Lo-is,” he said.
“When *is* your parents’ anniversary?” she asked.
“May 12th,” he said quietly.
“I didn’t know. Not until now. I couldn’t have told you when my parents got married.” There was a desperate, streaky edge to her voice. Clark’s arm closed around her again. “I don’t remember them ever celebrating it,” she said lifelessly. “Not once.”
“It’s OK, Lois,” he soothed.
“September 16th,” she said on a harsh, gravelly laugh. “Exactly the same as our first date.”
He cuddled her into the nook between his chest and his neck. “Lois, it doesn’t matter. Not now.”
Lois stood. Stood so abruptly, she almost keeled over. Clark was there instantly, steadying her. “You should go,” she said in a frozen, detached voice. “It’s late.”
He looked down, directly into her eyes. “Do you *want* me to go?”
She put her hand on his forearm. “Clark, this isn’t your problem. Thanks for tonight. I’ll see you in a day or two at the Planet. Tell Perry I mightn’t make it in today.”
“Lois,” he breathed. His hands came to her shoulders again. His eyes hadn’t left hers. “Do you *want* me to go?”
“This isn’t your family, Clark. You should get out of here. I’m sure this is all pretty gross for you. Thanks for everything. I’ll be fine, now.” She made a half-hearted attempt to move towards his jacket, but gave up when he didn’t release her shoulders.
He didn’t move. He just looked at her, his solemn face tilted towards her, his brown eyes steady, his hands gently restraining on her shoulders. “You didn’t answer my question,” he said quietly.
“Clark,” she said evenly. “Get out of here.” She forged a cheap smile, but pulled it immediately, sure it had been more of a grimace than a smile. “I would walk out on all of this if I could.”
He let out a deep, wavering breath. “Lois, I’m not leaving here unless you *tell* me to. Unless you convince me you really would rather be alone.” He glanced to her door. “And even then, I’ll probably camp in the hallway.”
“Clark, you’ve been great and I ...” Her words died as her façade crumbled. She stumbled into his broad chest. “Would you mind staying?” she quivered against the white cotton.
“Aww, Lois,” he said. His arms surrounded her, holding her so closely, she could feel his fingertips against his own ribcage. He held her until she backed away, then he reached for her chin and lifted it so his eyes connected with hers. “We’re in this together,” he pledged.
For the first time, Lois felt the prickle of tears. She ruthlessly repressed them. If she cried now, she might not stop. Ever. “Thank you.”
“You should go to bed,” Clark said. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
Lois went to her bathroom. She showered and brushed her teeth and slipped into her utilitarian flannelette pyjamas. There was a certain anesthetised peace to be had doing things so mundane, so routine. The world hadn’t stopped.
Clark was sitting on the sofa when she reappeared. “Help yourself to whatever you need,” she said expressionlessly.
He stood. “Thanks.”
Lois didn’t know whether to kiss him goodnight or just go to bed. She didn’t know how to thank him. She didn’t know how to try to express that, without him, she wasn’t sure she could have continued breathing. But she knew she wouldn’t be able to find the words. So, with a small shrug, she turned and went into her bedroom.
+-+-+-+
Lois’s bedroom door shut, but Clark continued listening. He heard her pull back her bedcovers and slide into bed. He heard her head sink into the pillow. Her heart rate was still abnormally high, but it had gradually slowed since those first awful minutes after the police had told her about her parents.
A huge sigh shuddered through Clark’s body. He had never felt so out of depth, so ill-equipped for a situation. Just how did you comfort someone when there was no comfort to be had? How did you try to help someone when you knew you could do nothing ... absolutely *nothing* to help?
Clark leant forward and despairingly dropped his head into his hands. If only ...
If only Superman had been there. If only Superman had prevented the collision.
If only Superman had saved Lois’s parents.
For long minutes, Clark remained still, listening to Lois breathe in the room next door. His thoughts ventured haltingly to the next few days. Tomorrow ... today really.
There were so many formidable obstacles ahead. So much Lois would have to cope with. So many impossible situations. So many decisions.
Clark closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. His ribcage, shoulders, arms, hands felt like they had been tightly coiled for hours. He consciously tried to relax. He had to be strong. He had to be strong for Lois.
He had no way of predicting what she would feel, what she would need, how he could help. He became aware of a gnawing, totally unexpected need to talk to his mom. He knew just a few words from her would be like a tonic – they wouldn’t fix the situation, but they would make him feel it would be possible to get through the next few days.
Clark picked up the phone. Then he put it down. Lois might hear. He couldn’t do anything which would sharpen her agony or remind her of what she had lost.
He walked to the window and gazed down on the city lights. This was completely uncharted ground for him. And superpowers wouldn’t help at all.
+-+-+-+
An hour later, Lois still wasn’t asleep. Her breathing was ragged and her heart rate high. Intermittently, she shuffled, sighed, groaned, turned.
Clark hadn’t heard her footsteps, so, reasonably confident she was still in bed, he x-rayed through her bedroom door. Lois’s eyes were wide open. As he watched, she sighed irritably and shut her eyes. Moments later, they were open again and she was staring rigidly into the nothingness.
He tapped on her door. “Lois? Can I come in?”
“Get some sleep, Clark.”
“Lois, I’m coming in.” He knelt beside her bed and brushed her hair from her forehead. “Close your eyes,” he whispered.
“I can’t,” she whimpered. “I’ve tried.”
“Close your eyes,” he crooned.
She closed her eyes.
“Concentrate on my touch,” he said. “Wherever I touch, relax.”
Clark swept the width of her forehead with the pads of his fingers. With the edge of his thumb he massaged away the creases between her eyebrows. He feathered along her closed eyelids and caressed the silken skin of her cheekbones. He meandered through her hair with long, deliberate strokes. “Relax, honey,” he said on a breath.
He felt her tension dissolve under his touch and had begun to hope she was asleep when suddenly she jolted and her eyes shot open again.
He waited for her to speak. When she didn’t, he said, “Close your eyes, honey.”
“Cl...Clark?” Lois said in a voice so tormented, it chafed his heart.
“Yes.”
“Would you hold me?”
He slipped one arm under her neck, put the other across her far shoulder and tilted her into his chest.
She pulled back impatiently. “No.” She looked up at him in the murky light. “Would you get into bed with me?”
Clark was torn. He had to ensure nothing happened which would add to her pain, but right now, he would do anything to lessen the raw anguish in her eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She slithered to the far side of the bed and shivered at its chill.
“Roll over,” he said. “We’ll spoon.”
He took off his shoes and lay on his side, facing her back. He lifted his upper arm. “Come back,” he said, wanting to allow her to determine their level of contact.
She wriggled back and settled against him. She only stilled when she was as close to him as possible, meeting him at every possible contact point. He laid his arm across her waist and took a deep, steadying breath.
“Is this OK?” she asked.
“Uhm.”
“... cause it wouldn’t be totally regrettable if we ...”
Every muscle in his body tensed. “Yes, it would, Lois.”
“You’re right. I’m hardly very attractive right now.”
Actually, he’d never desired her more than he did at this instant and it had more to do with his aching need to soothe her pain than the close proximity of her body. “You’re always beautiful to me, Lois. Always.”
“Then why not?” she asked pitifully.
“Because it wouldn’t be fair.”
“To me or to you?”
“To us.”
“You could make me forget,” she pleaded. “Just for a little while.”
“But then you’d have to deal with remembering again.”
“Please, Clark.” The tremor in her voice touched him far more profoundly than her words. He clung to his resolve like a man in raging seas clings to a life buoy.
“No, Lois,” he said firmly, but with infinite gentleness.
She started to tremble.
He took her hand in his and stroked along her fingers with his thumb. “This is so awful, so overwhelming, it’s all you can see,” he murmured. “The future is too unknown and too scary to even think about. Because I love you, I need to do the future thinking for you. I need –“
“You l.l.love me?” she said, still trembling.
He squeezed her hand. “I love you,” he repeated.
“Oh, Clark.” She inhaled deeply and her tremors stilled.
“More than anything, I want to get back to this level of intimacy with you, but at a time for us. This is a time for grieving.”
“You really do love me,” she said with wonder.
“I really do love you.”
“I thought so, but now I know.”
“Because I wouldn’t –“
“Yes, but not just that. Lying here with me when surely you must have thought about doing this ...”
“Many times.”
“... but in very different circumstances.”
He kissed the back of her head. “Lois, however tough this gets, however long it stays unbearable, I want you to know I’ll be here for you.”
She brought his hand to her face and rested her lips on it. “I love you too, Clark.”
A tidal wave of emotion rolled through him. Lois loved him.
“Hold me tighter,” she begged.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“It makes me feel safe. It’s the only thing that makes me feel safe.”
He tensed a degree.
“Tighter,” she said.
He tensed a degree further, sure he was right at the boundary of what her small body could take.
“Thank you for making me forget,” she said.
“Did I?”
“You told me you love me. That helped me see a future. Until then I couldn’t see one.”
“*We* have a future,” he promised her. “Starting with getting through this ... together.”
“To ... geth...”
Her breathing became regular and even. For long hours, Clark lay completely still, using his super strength in a way he’d never had to before. He listened to her breaths, grateful for each one that delivered rest to her exhausted body and temporary peace to her tortured mind.
+-+-+-+
When Lois awakened the next morning, her first awareness was a heavy sense of trepidation, like waking on the morning of a big exam.
Then her memories lashed her consciousness.
She rolled over. She was alone. The space next to her was warm. With Clark’s warmth. He had slept with her. Every time she had risen from the depths of sleep, he’d been there to comfort her with words or touch.
She padded out of her bedroom. A note lay on her countertop.
‘Lois, honey, I'll be back very soon, Love, Clark.’
She read it three times. How long until ‘very soon’?
She sat on the sofa and pulled her knees into her chest.
She was alone.
Literally.
But worse, much worse, she was totally isolated. No one could push through the cloud to get to her. And she doubted she would ever again have the strength or the will to escape.
+-+-+-+
In his apartment, Clark showered, shaved and put on clean jeans and a shirt – all at superspeed.
He dialled his home number. His mom answered. Clark closed his eyes and leant against the wall. Her voice was like a balm on exposed nerves.
“Mom,” he said.
“Clark, what’s wrong?”
Her concern, born of one word from him, washed over him. “Lois’s parents were killed in a car wreck.”
“Oh, Clark.” He could hear the impending tears in her voice. He could imagine her, in the farmhouse, her compassion so deep, so genuine, so ... mothersome. “How’s Lois?” she asked.
‘I don’t know,” Clark said desperately. “I stayed with her all night. She didn’t say much. I didn’t know how to help her.”
“Just being there would have helped her.”
“She didn’t cry, Mom.” He had to pause and reconstruct his crumbling voice. “Not once. Not when they told her, not later.”
“Everybody deals with these things differently, honey.”
“What can I do?”
“Be there. Give her the freedom to be whatever she needs to be. She’ll be angry, frustrated, dismayed, sometimes even happy over a memory.”
Clark swallowed. “I don’t think she has too many happy memories,” he said, desolately.
“Then there’ll be regrets and guilt in the emotional mix,” Mom said.
“What does *she* have to be guilty about?” Clark demanded. He calmed his voice. “Sorry, Mom. I’ve just never ... never felt so useless. I just don’t know what to *do*.”
“Go back to her, reassure her, hold her, just be there for her.”
“I did that ... I don’t think it helped.”
“Clark,” Mom said. “You are so much more than your powers. You’re caring and sensitive and more emotionally smart than any man I know except your father. You’re exactly what Lois needs now.”
“I didn’t ... I wasn’t ... I wish ...”
“Clark?” she said and her tone had imperceptibly hardened.
“Uhm?”
“You’re not blaming yourself, are you? For not saving them?”
“If only I’d been there -”
“Clark!” There was an undeniable thread of steel in her voice now. “Don’t even think that,” she ordered him.
He sighed. “I know, I know. I can’t save everyone. But ... this is Lois.”
“You can be there for her, Clark. You can make such a difference for her.”
He was far from convinced, but it was so good to hear her say it. “Thanks, Mom.”
“We’ll be there for the funeral. Let me know the details.”
“I will. I have to get back to Lois.”
“Give her our love.”
“Mom?” Clark took a ragged breath. “Mom, I love you so much.”
“I love you too, honey.”
