Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Trusting Me, Trusting You 3:Trail (19/?)

Clark watched her, wishing he could stand guard at the gateway of her mind. Did he dare touch her?

Would she want his touch?

Very slowly, Clark slipped his arm across the sheet and covered her hand with his.

Her fingers grasped his.

A few minutes later, she was asleep.

Clark quieted the accumulation of his hopes and fears and willed himself to follow her.


Part 19

~~ Thursday ~~

"Have you thought about what you would like to do today?" Clark asked Lois as they ate breakfast.

She was still pale. Still quiet. Still subdued. And she still appeared tired, although every time he had awakened and checked on her during the night, she had been sleeping peacefully.

"No," she said.

Clark had thought about it. He had an idea - but it was an idea that involved risk. "I have a suggestion," he said.

Lois took a small bite from her toast. "Oh?"

Her obvious lack of interest nearly changed his mind. But Lois had given him today, and Clark didn't want to waste it. "Would you like to go flying?" he asked.

She didn't respond as positively as he had hoped. But she didn't respond negatively either. "We should go into Smallville," she said flatly.

"Only if you want to," Clark said. "There's no hurry. No hurry at all."

"I don't want to," Lois said with sudden decisiveness. "I don't want to face all those people. Not yet."

"Then we won't go," he said.

"Thanks," she said.

"Would you like to go flying?" Clark asked again.

"Have you recovered enough?"

"Yes."

"Maybe later," she said without any discernable enthusiasm.

"Any place in particular?" Clark asked casually.

"No."

Ignoring the warnings screeching through his brain, Clark forced himself to continue. "Would ... would you like to go to Metropolis?"

Her ripple of surprise stalled his breath. "Why?" she asked.

"I wondered if perhaps you'd like to visit your dad."

"Ah ..."

"We don't have to; it was just a suggestion."

"I ... I would like to see him," Lois said slowly. "But ..."

"But?"

"But I'm not sure I'm up to acting as if everything is all right. I don't want to worry him."

Clark hadn't considered that. "OK," he said, wishing now that he hadn't mentioned it.

"Thanks anyway," she said.

"Is there anything you would like to do?" Clark asked hopefully.

She stared into her cup of tea without replying.

"Anything at all?" Clark prompted.

"Yeah," she said, the word carried on a jaded sigh.

"What?" Clark said, trying to curb his eagerness. He was willing to do anything if only it brought a splash of colour to her cheeks and some life to her eyes.

"I wish ... I wish we could go back to Wednesday when we were eating dinner together," she said wistfully.

Before Moyne had hurt her. Regret draped over Clark's heart. Even with all of his strange abilities, he couldn't do that for her. He couldn't restore what Moyne had contaminated. "Would you like to sit on the porch?" Clark asked. He forced himself to ask the much harder questions. "Would you like me to stay with you? Or would you prefer to be alone?"

"Don't you have stuff you should be doing?"

"Lois ..." You've given me one day, he wanted to say. Nothing comes close to being as important as making this day count. And they hadn't even begun to talk - *really* talk - yet.

"I wouldn't be good company."

She would always be the best company he could ever have. Clark slid from his chair and crouched beside her. "Lois," he said. "Is there *anything* I can do to help you through this?"

Her eyes glistened with tears. "I'm not sure if anyone can help," she said forlornly.

"If you want to talk about it ..."

"I *can't* talk about it," she said.

"OK," Clark said, feeling crushed.

"You go and do whatever needs to be done outside," she said.

"What will you do?"

"I ... I don't ... Maybe I will sit on the porch."

She wanted to be alone.

Clark nodded his acquiescence, stood up, and walked out of the kitchen, feeling as if he were leaving his downcast heart behind.

||_||

The day had passed with agonising slowness. Every hour or so, Clark had approached Lois, asking if she needed anything. Her invariable response had been that she was all right.

But she wasn't, and Clark knew it.

Each time, he had retreated to the barn, his steps marking time to the rhythm of her heartbeat and his mind searching for inspiration.

As he had dabbled in various tasks, he had played out the conversations he wished he could have with Lois. He imagined his words, faltering and inept, but somehow managing to reach the depths of her pain.

Then he'd return to her, but nothing he said or did was able to traverse the deep moat of her isolation.

So, he'd seen to her practical needs. He'd brought her food and drinks; he'd checked the fast-healing injuries to her head and chest. He'd suggested things that she might want to do and places she might want to sit.

Lois had said very little - nothing more substantial than token replies or an occasional passing comment.

Many times during the day, Clark had thought back to the cell when, contrarily, conversation had seemed easier.

They had seemed closer.

Now they felt like two strangers who knew enough about each other's pasts to divide them but not enough to draw them together.

Darkness had fallen, bringing with it the increasing awareness that his chances were slipping away and he hadn't been able to make any one of them count.

As Clark showered in preparation for bed, his worries stretched forward to tomorrow. Would Lois ask him to take her to Metropolis and leave her there? He couldn't begin to comprehend how a woman would feel after witnessing the rape of her friend and then being threatened in the same way, but everything within him protested at the thought of Lois being alone.

Surely, it would be better for her if she stayed with him.

Did she have anyone else? Her mother? She'd said she had a sister in California. If Lois insisted he fly her back to Metropolis, should he try to contact her mother? Lois had rarely mentioned her mother. Clark figured the relationship wasn't that close.

But he couldn't leave her. Not alone.

Clark emerged from the shower, hitched a towel around his waist, and returned to his bedroom. He pulled on his sweatpants and tee shirt. In their scraps of conversation today, they had not mentioned the sleeping arrangements for tonight.

He was impossibly torn.

Sleeping in the same bed as the woman he loved. Always being mindful of the need to ensure he didn't brush against her body. Suspended between the fact of so being close to Lois and the fear of where it might lead.

Clark put on his glasses and took a deep breath. He crossed the landing to his parents' room and quietly tapped on the door.

"Come in," Lois said.

He walked in. "Are you OK?" he said, because he was sure that however he worded it, asking Lois if she wanted him to sleep with her was never going to come out right.

She nodded. "Where are you going to sleep?"

"Wherever you want me to sleep."

"Would you mind staying with me?" she asked.

No, he didn't mind. Not if that was what Lois wanted.

She'd only promised him until tomorrow. If tonight was their last night, he didn't want to spend it anywhere but with Lois.

Clark shuffled into the bed, drew the covers to his waist, and lay on his side, facing her. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

Lois sighed. "I don't know," she said. "I'm feeling so much, but none of it seems to bring me any closer to a conclusion. It's all just a blur."

He remembered that feeling. In the days after his capture. In the days after Lois had first come into his cell. In the days after his escape. "You can talk to me about anything," he said.

"I know," Lois said. "But we've talked so much, and it doesn't feel like we've made any progress."

"We've made a lot of progress," Clark insisted.

"We were making progress," she said dispiritedly.

Clark's heart sank as he wondered how much longer this would continue. How many times they would get to a point only to run into Moyne and the damage he had caused. "Until?" he questioned

"Until I destroyed it."

"You?" he exclaimed. "*You* destroyed it?" His voice had risen, and Lois seemed to shrink further down into the blankets. Clark reached for her and laid a light touch on her shoulder. "Lois," he said gently. "You didn't destroy anything."

"Yes, I did."

Clark reluctantly withdrew his hand. "Whatever happened, it was Moyne. He did it. He caused it."

"I almost killed him."

"Please don't dwell on that," Clark said. "What you did is entirely understandable. He came into your room - a place where you should have been safe. He threatened to rape you. He attacked you. You *didn't* kill him - and, even if you had, it would have been self-defence."

"It started as self-defence. If it hadn't been for you, it would have finished as murder."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do. I was overwhelmed by such powerful hatred that I wanted to kill him. If you hadn't been there, I would have killed him."

"Lois, we're here for each other," Clark said, realising that now was his time to put all his planning into action. He had to find the right words. He had to. "You've helped me so much. If anything I did helped you, I'm glad."

"You couldn't stop me *wanting* to kill him."

"And that is understandable," Clark insisted. "You've been through so much trauma - Linda ... and what happened to her just a few months ago ... then being on the run in hostile territory ... then coming home to find out about your dad's stroke ... then being caught up in everything that was happening at the compound ... then planning my escape and having to run away again ... and finally facing Moyne." Clark shook his head, hoping she couldn't fail to see his admiration. "You are amazing, Lois."

"None of that excuses murder."

"You didn't murder anyone."

"No," she agreed dolefully. "What I did was worse."

Clark searched her impassive face for meaning. "What did you do?" he asked. "What did you do that was worse than murder?"

"I destroyed something that was between us."

It was destroyed? What was destroyed? How had she destroyed it? "I ... I don't understand."

A tear bubbled in Lois's eye and skidded sideways down her cheek and onto the pillow. "I destroyed it," she whimpered.

Clark used the tip of his thumb to brush away the residue of her tear. "Is that what you meant when you said that you wished we could go back?"

She nodded, and another tear escaped from her eye and drizzled onto his thumb.

"What did you destroy?" he asked. "Help me here, Lois. I don't understand."

"How can you ever trust me again?" she cried. "After everything I said, I -" She stopped speaking and fought back the avalanche of her tears.

"Lois." Clark moved his hand on her shoulder and stretched his fingers to caress her hair. "Lois, I trust you with everything. I would trust you with my life."

She swiped at the tears with her forearm and quivered a long breath. "I tried so hard to show you that you could trust me," she said. "I kept promising I wouldn't leave you. I could see how hard it was for you to accept that I meant it. I knew that you were struggling to overcome such immense pain, but I believed that if I just kept telling you, you would eventually come to trust me."

"I did," Clark said. "I do trust you."

"How can you?" she demanded. "After what I did?"

"You mean when Scardino was here?" Clark said, sliding his fingers through her hair.

She nodded despondently.

"Lois," Clark said. "Lois, I knew you were in shock."

"But it hurt you, didn't it?"

"Yes, it did," he admitted. "But it propelled me into action. For the first time in seven years, I didn't have to just accept the will of others; I had the opportunity to fight for something I believed in."

"I wanted to give you security. I wanted to help you learn to trust again. And then, I ruined everything." Her disconsolate eyes met his. "And I don't know if it can ever be built again."

"Of course it can," Clark soothed. "I didn't believe you when you said you wanted to leave. That's why I argued with you. That's why I pleaded with you for two days - so that you would have some time to regain your perspective."

"But you see everything as having the potential to be taken away. I understand that. That's how I would be if I'd suffered as you suffered. I wanted to counteract that. I wanted you to know that you could depend on me. Not just today, but forever."

Right now, he wasn't concerned about forever. "Are you going to leave tomorrow?"

"I don't know."

"Do you want to leave tomorrow?"

"No, I don't."

Clark felt a smile begin, but it lost its way before ever reaching his mouth. "Then stay," he said. "Please stay with me, Lois."

"Clark, it's not that simple," Lois said. "I want to be with you, but what I want more than anything else in the world is for you to be whole again. For you to be happy and safe."

"I need you."

"I'm not sure that I can make you happy."

"I am," Clark said. "I am very sure. You are everything I need."

"Even if I tell you now ... even if I promise that I will stay with you ... how can you believe me again?"

"I will believe you."

"Until something happens, and I change my mind," she said bitterly.

"You didn't change your mind; you were hurt and shocked and confused."

Lois looked away. "I'm so scared, Clark," she breathed.

Clark laid his hand along her jaw and eased her back to face him again. "Scared of what?"

"Scared of us."

"Us?"

"Look at us," she said. "What happened to you in the cell - that isn't something that can just be brushed aside. And I can't forget what happened to Linda. I don't think I'll ever forget."

"We both have wounds. But if we're together -"

"That's the problem, Clark," Lois said. "Think about it. We have both been so badly hurt. Does that mean we can help each other? Or does it mean we are just going to keep on tearing each other apart as we scramble to put our lives back together again?"

"We -"

"That's what scares, me, Clark," she said. "I want to be with you, but I'm not sure that you will heal if you're with me. Perhaps you need someone strong, someone whole, someone not battling their own demons."

Clark gave her a grim smile. "You know, Lois," he said, "that is exactly what freaked me out the night you told me about what happened to Linda. I figured that because you had been hurt, you would need someone strong and stable to help you. I figured I wasn't that person."

"That's what I mean," she said. "Perhaps we will just go on, tearing each other down, never healing."

"No," Clark said, shaking his head. "No. When I got out of the cell, I felt like I had nothing to give anyone. I felt so empty. But when you needed me, I found it. It was there, inside me. I hadn't even known ... until you needed me."

"Does that mean the only way for you to recover is if I'm an emotional wreck? And the only time I can pretend to be OK is when your wounds are on display?"

"No," Clark said. "It means that sometimes the best way to heal is to take our minds off our own problems and concentrate on helping someone else. Just like you did for me."

"No," Lois said dejectedly. "I was hiding. Helping you was easier than facing the devastation inside of me."

"I won't accept that I was nothing more to you than a means to overlook your pain."

"You'll always be far, far more than that."

Clark realised he had been holding his breath and now expelled it slowly.

"I feel so unsure, Clark," Lois said. "I can't risk hurting you again. I can't say that I'll stay with you if there is any chance that I will change my mind."

"Are you going to ask me to take you to Metropolis tomorrow?"

She sighed. "I don't know."

"I was wrong to insist that you guarantee that this is forever. I was wrong to even ask."

"No, you weren't," Lois said. "I wanted to give you forever."

"I'm not asking for forever now," Clark said earnestly. "I'm asking for tomorrow. I'm asking that you will still be here with me tomorrow night." Tight coils gripped his stomach as he awaited her reply.

"OK," Lois said finally. "I'll still be here tomorrow."

Clark felt the gush of his relief. "Thank you."

Lois didn't smile. "Clark," she said. "We have to get the balance right. It wasn't right before Moyne came here ... and then he tried to hurt me ... and you've been so supportive ... but it's still not right."

"Not long-term," Clark said. "No relationship can be built on one person always needing the other. But these past two days ... I would have done anything to prevent Moyne getting to you ... but it gave me a chance to be there for you." He smiled. "I admit it, Lois. I want to be able to help you."

"But you must wonder if anything you've done has helped."

"Yes," he said sadly. "Other than the first night when I came in here after you called. But I kept telling myself that it would be worse for you if you were alone. I hung onto that."

"I'm sorry," Lois said as her tears threatened again. "I couldn't get past my own pain enough to see how it must be affecting you."

"Don't be sorry," he said.

"But you ..."

"Whatever I had to give, I got from you," Clark said. "And that doesn't mean we are going to tear each other apart - it means we are perfect for each other."

She stared at him, and he saw the faintest glimmer of a smile light her eyes. "You can be very persuasive," she said.

"I learned from you," he replied.

Her gaze dropped from his face to the sheet.

"What?" he said gently.

"Clark ... it wasn't fair to ask you to come to bed with me. I shouldn't have -"

"Do you *want* me here with you?"

"Yes. I want it, but it's not fair to you."

"If you want me here, there's nowhere else I want to be."

A glimmer of pink shaded her pallid cheeks. "Are you all right with ... with the other stuff?"

"Lois - you were nearly raped. The fact that you want me here at all is -"

"But is it OK?"

"It's OK."

Clark could see that she was still unsure. He brushed back her hair and smiled. "You need to sleep," he said. "Perhaps by tomorrow you will be feeling a whole lot better."

Lois reached for his hand and clasped it tightly. "I'm not going to cry," she said in a shaky voice.

"It's all right if you need to cry," Clark said.

"I've never met a man who is comfortable around a wailing woman."

"Lois," he said. "Whatever you need to do is all right with me."

"But if I cry, you'll want to hold me. And we're in bed. And that's going to be awkward."

"Not if we don't let it be awkward."

Lois rested her hand on his cheek. "Clark Kent," she said. "You are the most amazing person I have ever met."

Her eyes found his and rested there. She smiled.

"I love it when you smile," he said hoarsely.

"I love it when you smile," she replied.

He smiled, and the tension drifted away. "I have a suggestion for tomorrow," he said.

"Really?"

Her tone held a trace of interest. "Let's try to have some fun," Clark said eagerly. "Let's go somewhere. The beach. Or the woods. Or anywhere. Let's do something you enjoyed when you were a child. Horse riding. Or bike riding. Or ice skating. Let's just be two people enjoying being together. Let's try to forget, just for a short time."

"OK," Lois said with a small nod. "But I want you to choose the activity."

"Lois -"

"No, Clark," she said. "There must be things you loved doing. Things you have missed. I really want you to choose."

"OK," he said. "I'd like to go to the beach. I used to love walking barefoot along the sand."

"That sounds nice," Lois said.

"We'll do it?"

She nodded. "Tomorrow."

"OK," Clark said. "Tomorrow."

"Do you want to turn off the light?" Lois asked.

"It can stay on. I don't mind."

"No, turn it off."

"Will you be all right?"

She smiled. It was soft and hesitant, but it filled Clark with hope. "I'll be fine," she said. "If you stay with me."

So will I, Clark thought as he rose from the bed to turn off the light. I'll be fine if you stay with me. When he slipped back into the bed, Lois's eyes were closed.

"Goodnight, Clark," she said.

"Goodnight, Lois," Clark replied. I love you.