Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic The Longest Road: The Roads They Walked Alone - Part 1

All right, after the exceptionally long hiatus, here is the continuation of The Longest Road: Belief and Sacrifice. Thanks for your patience and my apologies for the delay.

From the end of Belief and Sacrifice:

"Coming!" Martha shouted as she raced from the den to the front door. She wasn't expecting any visitors, but it was possible Wayne was just stopping by to say hello. She looked through the window and her heart sank. Poor dear, she thought to herself. Being alone in Metropolis was probably making her miserable, though Lois rarely visited in the middle of a weekday. She opened the door to find Lois standing there, looking so small and lost, her brown eyes filled with tears.

The younger woman sobbed as Martha threw her arms around her. Fear gripped Martha's heart as she wondered what could have possibly driven Lois to this state. Was there news about Clark? Had something gone wrong?

Lois hugged her tightly. "Martha," she managed, her body shuddering. She trembled as she wept uncontrollably. "I'm pregnant," Lois whispered through tears.

The Roads They Walked Alone - Part 1

"I'm pregnant," Lois whispered through her tears.

Martha hugged her daughter-in-law tightly, her own emotions swirling about in a chaotic storm. "You should sit," Martha said gently as she led the younger woman to the sofa. On wobbly legs, Lois managed her way to the couch before collapsing under the weight of some unseen but unmistakable pressure. Martha sat down beside Lois and hugged her as her slender frame shook with sobs.

When the tears finally stopped flowing, Martha gently asked, "Are you sure?"

Lois looked at her and nodded feebly, trying to maintain a brave face as she calmed herself down enough to speak. "I felt sick, and I thought it might be Kryptonite, but it wasn't. I didn't want to believe it, but I took the test, and it was positive, and I couldn't stop staring at it and thinking that there's no way I could do this without him." Her lip trembled and her voice broke. "How am I supposed to take care of this baby without him? I'm not ready, I can't, I don't know how. God, I'm so scared," she confessed.

"It'll be all right," Martha crooned.

"I don’t...I don't know what to do..." Lois whispered.

Martha's heart sank; she was unsure what to tell the younger woman. She tried to put herself in Lois's place. Her husband was gone, she felt alone and scared, asked to fill shoes that were daunting under the best of circumstances, and now this. Martha had wondered whether or not Clark would be able to have children or whether he would face the same difficulties she and Jonathan had. She'd hoped desperately that Clark would be able to have a family, but never had she imagined this would happen. Her heart ached both for her son who wasn't here and who couldn't even know what was happening--that he would be a father--and for her daughter-in-law, who was faced with the possibility of raising their child alone. "You're going to be fine," Martha tried to reassure her. "And we'll be here to help you, no matter what. We'll do whatever we can to help."

"I don't know what I would do without you," Lois admitted.

Martha hugged the younger woman tightly. "Shhh, everything will be okay," she promised. "But you should try to rest." She stood up to collect a thick quilt from the old wooden rocking chair and wrapped it around Lois's shoulders. Her daughter-in-law looked so small, so fragile wrapped up in the faded, old blue and white quilt. The quilt was Clark's favorite; it had been since he was a little boy. It was worn at its edges and rounded corners and threadbare in places from years of use, abuse, and trips through the washing machine. Several of the squares were much brighter than the others, replacements added on over the years for those spots that had been torn or tattered. Lois held the beaten up quilt tightly around her shoulders as though she were cold. The sight tugged at Martha's heartstrings and she felt the deep aching that she'd grown to know well over the years - the pain of caring so very much for someone who felt as though they were facing the world alone, the pain that came from having to stand back and watch, knowing it was a burden she couldn't fully share. Martha would do what she could, but she couldn't make things right. She knew that.

"Let me get you some tea," she said quickly before adjourning to the kitchen. She returned a few minutes later with two mugs in her hands.

Lois gratefully took one of the cups with a quiet 'thank you.' She sat on the couch with her legs tucked underneath her. She held the cup of herbal tea in her hands and sipped it in silence, her eyes closed. After a long moment, she began to speak, at first in a whisper, as though she were trying to find her own voice. "I used to wonder what it would be like. I wasn't even sure it was what I wanted, but I knew Clark would be an amazing father, and I found myself wanting to give him that. I thought I'd just follow his lead, learn as I went..."

Martha leaned back in the rocking chair opposite the couch, sipping her own tea. "You'll be a wonderful mother," she replied.

"That's easy for you to say." Lois gave her a weak smile. "You're the world's best mom."

"Heavens, no," Martha replied with a genuine smile. "I was terrified when we found Clark. I had no idea what to do. I was overwhelmed, but we managed. We learned. And we're pretty happy with the way he turned out." Her tone became serious. "I know this is hard, but I promise you won't have to face this alone."

"I just...I know I should be happy, but I'm so afraid..." Lois admitted.

"I know," Martha replied.

********

Ching paced stiffly with long, measured strides across the gymnasium. He lectured in his stern, disapproving monotone, a sound Clark had grown quite familiar with over the weeks. Clark felt a drop of sweat roll down his forehead, over the bridge of his nose and fall to the ground, followed by another. He tried to still his arms but they trembled despite his demands that they stop. His muscles burned as his arms shook, aching and cramping further with every second. He closed his eyes.

"It is our custom to bow upon greeting one another. Our people are all equals, but customarily the younger person bows first," Ching explained matter-of-fact-ly. "The exceptions will be you and Zara. Protocol differs with you. Regardless of whom you meet, you bow first. You are servants of the Kryptonian people, tradition serves to remind you of that fact. Do you understand?"

"I get it, Ching," Clark hissed through clenched teeth, his face inches above the ground, his arms bent at ninety-degree angles, his body ramrod straight. A tremor began in his calves and worked its way up his legs, seizing the cramped muscles in flurried bursts of twitches and spasms.

"Do you understand?" Ching replied, placing a foot on Clark's back.

With an unceremonious thud, Clark fell to the mat, drawing in a deep breath. He exhaled as the burning slowly leeched its way out of his muscles. "I understand," he replied raggedly.

"Good, get up," Ching responded crisply.

Clark dragged himself to his feet, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. He stood up straight at attention, and with his hands in front of him at sternum height, elbows bent at right angles, he placed his right fist against the open palm of his left hand and bowed ceremoniously.

Ching returned the gesture. "Now go, there is work to be done on the bridge."

"Do you always step on the backs of your equals, Ching?" Clark demanded. He stared down the other man. Ching was a few inches shorter than Clark and more slender in build, but he still cut an imposing figure. His determination and control and his perpetually harsh expression ensured it.

Ching regarded Clark silently for a moment. "If it is what I must do to make them my betters, to ensure that they are men and women I would be proud to salute and honored to follow."

"We can end the drill instructor routine. You don't have to hide the fact that you don't like me," Clark pressured him, unwilling to let the subject drop.

"Whether or not I like you is irrelevant. It is my duty to serve, Kal El. But it is not you I serve. It is not even Zara that I serve. I serve your offices, no more. It matters not to me who you are, or whether I like you. My duty is to serve the people of Krypton above all others." The tiny tic of his eyebrow in his otherwise stoic expression belied the fact that Ching was quite agitated. He turned to walk away.

"You and I both know that isn't true. You're in love with her, and you're convinced that I'm trying to take your place."

"That's absurd," Ching snapped.

"Well, yeah, it is. I'm not trying to steal Zara from you," Clark replied.

Ching's eyes narrowed as he glared at Clark. "You could not begin to understand..."

"Why don't you try me?" Clark replied icily. "You think I don't know what it's like to be kept apart from the woman I love, you think I want this? These are your rules, not mine. I'm just playing the game because you asked for my help. If I could get out of the whole deal and let you take my place, believe me, I would."

"So that is it, you would give up your duty, your responsibilities just like that?"

Clark groaned in frustration. "What do you want from me? Do you want me to pretend that I'm glad to be here, that I don't miss my friends or my family or my wi...or Lois? I came here to help, that's all. When my work is done, I'm going home. End of story. I'd rather not have to deal with the passive aggressive act until then." Clark strode out of the gymnasium without even waiting for a reply. His jaw was sternly set, his brow furrowed. He was angry and he was tired. All he wanted was to go to his quarters and be alone. Alone, with only his thoughts to keep him company, he could escape from this place, at least for a little while.

Instead, he made his way to the showers, relieved to find them mercifully deserted. He peeled off his black uniform slowly, his muscles tired and knotted. Purple bruises had formed on his arms and on his sides from countless hours of combat training. The more substantial of them were old and fading, nearly unnoticeable. He'd learned quickly, and the mistakes that had led to those painful lessons were not repeated. Clark winced slightly as he stepped under the stream of hot water; the bruises and strained muscles were still tender. Pain blossomed in his limbs and slowly drained away as the hot water relaxed his body. He slowly scrubbed away the sweat and grime, at the same time clearing away the thoughts and frustrations of all things related to the Kryptonians and his mission. His thoughts drifted to Lois, as they always did. Only in his own head, when he was thinking of her, did anything make sense. He had to hold onto those thoughts, those memories, those dreams, just to stay sane. She was the anchor that kept him connected to the world, without her, he was just drifting, purposeless.

After a long while, his body rejuvenated by the hot water and his bad mood suitably appeased by having a few minutes of quiet to himself, away from the pressure of the tasks that lay ahead, Clark turned off the water, dried off and put on a clean uniform. He walked down the corridor and passed the door to his quarters with a wistful glance. If only he could just go inside and go to sleep. He would dream about her, he always did. Dreams so real, so vivid, he would swear he was awake. Dreams in which the sound of her voice, her laughter, the warmth of her embrace, the feel of her skin against his, the silk of her hair, the taste of her lips, all surrounded him, wrapping him up in feelings so intense he could barely stand it. He lived for his dreams. And he mourned the ends of the nights, grieved for the dreams interrupted, and cursed the waking world that waited for him.

But the dreams, no matter how real, how amazingly intense they were, were doing nothing to help him get home to her. It was what he did in those waking hours that he loathed so much, all the training and preparing for a responsibility more daunting than any he'd ever contemplated, that mattered. He had to do everything in his power to get this right if he wanted to get home.

At the end of the long, narrow, winding corridor, the door to the bridge waited for him. It glided open silently as he approached. The sparse crew paid him little mind and continued with their tasks. Only Zara seemed to notice his arrival.

"Kal El," she began, her tone grave. "We have news from New Krypton. The situation grows more dire by the day and we are still weeks from our arrival. I will speak with several members of the Council via communicator later today. I would like you to be present."

Clark merely nodded. Over the weeks, they'd received scraps of information about the situation on New Krypton - none of it was good. Skirmishes had begun in the outlying regions of the settlements. Saboteurs and guerrilla fighters had launched attacks on the relatively defenseless frontiers of the civilization. Nor had denied connection with the armed attacks and had claimed that only an administration under his guidance would be able to restore peace to the colony. The divisions in the Council were growing deeper. A powerful group of Councilors was demanding Nor's immediate confirmation as First Minister. Nor, for his part, had made a public plea to Zara to return from her foolish quest and help him heal the wounds of their world. As slick as an oiled serpent, he seemed to slither into every possible mess and come out unscathed. He'd trumped up a state of emergency, creating chaos on their planet and then promised with false earnestness to restore peace and order. Apparently fear and apprehension had driven a fair number of people into the camp of his supporters. The death toll from the attacks was steadily mounting and the Council was paralyzed by its divisions. He and Zara were expected to step into the vacuum and set things right. Countless lives depended upon them.

Clark walked slowly to the thick paned window and gazed out at the retreating stars. He found his own sun, a little brighter than the others because it was so much closer, but otherwise, undistinguished from his vantage point. Pulling the chain out from under his uniform, he stared down at the perfect little gold band that hung from it and silently wished that Lois were with him. She would know what to do; she would have helped him through this.

********

Lois considered her reflection in the mirror; she turned profile and regarded herself carefully. She placed a hand on her stomach, as flat as ever. Soon it wouldn't be. She felt a lump form in her throat as she thought about the tiny life growing there. A life she and Clark had created. A life created by their love. A life he didn't even know existed. Tears pricked at her eyes and she cursed the fates for their cruelty. She knew Clark would have given up anything to be here with her at that moment. If only he'd known. He deserved to be there, to see their child born, to watch their baby grow up. She wondered when she'd feel it kick, or hear its heartbeat and knowing that Clark wouldn't be there clawed at her soul. She could imagine the awe in his expression and picture in her mind the way his eyes would light up when he listened to the baby's heartbeat, or felt it kick. Dammit, it wasn't fair. He should have been there. He had every right to be there. Instead, she would have to do this without him. She had to bring their child into the world without him, had to raise a baby, wondering if he or she would ever get to know Clark.

She had to stop thinking that way. Clark was coming back to her. From her conversation with Zara, it seemed that the trip would take months, at least, so she couldn't be sure he'd be back before the baby was born, but he would come back, she knew that. Deep down, she knew that Clark was going to find a way to come back home. This baby was going to have a daddy that loved him or her very much. Until then, she'd have to do her best. She'd have to do everything she could, even though she was scared, even though the thought of being a parent terrified her. She loved this baby, this tiny little life that she'd known about for only a few hours. This baby was a link to Clark, but it was so much more, one day, it would be a tiny little person of its own, and he or she would look to Lois for love, support, and guidance and Lois knew at that moment she would do anything for this baby.

She silently made her way to the front porch of the farmhouse. Martha and Jonathan had gone to bed long ago, insisting that she stay the night. She looked up at the star filled sky on a warm, breezy Kansas summer night. A few dark clouds drifted lazily across the inky sky, lit up by countless little pinpricks of brilliant light. She looked up at the little star Clark had pointed out to her so many nights before. She spent hours each night staring at it, hoping and praying to any deities that would listen to send her husband back home to her safe and soon. Lois wondered where Clark was, and whether he was scared. She wondered if he thought about her as much as she thought about him, or if he was being kept too busy. She wondered if he dreamed the way she did, those vivid, breathtakingly, heartbreakingly vivid dreams. Lois wondered if he woke up in the middle of the night, surprised to find himself alone, swearing that just moment's before, he'd been in lying in his lover's embrace. She wondered if he whispered her name in his sleep because the sound of it soothed his soul the way the sound of his name soothed hers.

Lois stared up at his star, the bright little spark blurred by the tears in her eyes. She pulled out the chain around her neck and held the large gold ring between her fingers, its smooth surface flawless and perfect to the touch. "Come back to me," she whispered. She placed her hand against her stomach. "Come back to us."