Heartache & Joy
Summary: Lois thinks she has lost Clark forever when he is shot by Clyde Barrows. Clark is grieving the life that he has just lost. A look inside the thoughts the two had, plus a little extra. Set during the episode "That Old Gang of Mine."
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or even the circumstances presented in this story. I just enjoy hacking into the heads of my favorite characters. My first attempt at a Superman fanfic and my first fanfic after a very long absence.
Dedicated to anyone who has ever lost a loved one, especially those lost suddenly and unexpectedly.
~~~~~~ Superman~~~~~~
Lois Lane entered her darkened apartment, tears running down her cheeks, mascara ruined and making raccoon rings around her eyes. She barely noticed as she automatically flipped on the light switch, the light blaring in her eyes, temporarily blinding her as she shifted out of her night-vision. Tears streaming, she turned and set the locks on her door, then sagged against it. After a moment, she pushed herself away from the sturdy wood. Why did everything remind her of Clark? She would have given anything in the world at that moment to hear the familiar rapping of Clark's knuckles against the other side of her door.
Never again, she thought bitterly. And it's all my fault.
Fresh tears sprung up in her eyes. Heaving sobs wrenched her body. Her lungs burned for want of air but she couldn't stop, couldn't breathe against the sobbing that was over taking her. It felt like a thousand flaming razors were tearing her heart and soul to shreds. A primal wail escaped from her lips as she vented her hurt and her frustrations. Her fist pounded feebly against the wall.
Clark was gone. Murdered by Clyde Barrows and the rest of the gangsters in the club. He'd tried to protect her and she had been powerless to save him. She once again played the scenario over in her mind. They'd been at the club, following a lead on Capone, Bonnie and Clyde, and Dillinger. Clark had tried to protect her, stepping between the gangsters and Lois. Barrows had squeezed off several shots from his gun. All of them had hit their mark. Clark had slumped to the ground, lifeless, his chest filled with lead. Before she could fully react, the gangsters had taken his body. No evidence left behind. There would be no funeral for Clark Kent. No giving of his body back to the earth. No final goodbye said over his coffin.
A second wail ripped from her throat, animalistic and heart wrenching. Dimly, she wondered if she was disturbing her neighbors. Dimly, she was aware that she did not care. Clark had been taken from her. The one man that she had grown to care for. Had grown to love. Still did love. Why had she never told him before? She knew that Clark had known that he was her best friend. Had he ever known, ever suspected, that her feelings ran deeper than that? Had he felt the same way? She thought that he might have. The thought cut her like a knife. So much time wasted. A wave of anguish rolled over her.
Moving away from the door, she slumped onto her couch. A painful silence enveloped the room, broken only by her shuddering gasps as she continued to cry. Never before had she felt so broken and so alone. She reached for the phone, then stopped as her fingertips brushed against the red plastic. She shook her head sadly. The one voice she wanted to hear more than anything in the world had been forever silenced. She closed her eyes for a moment, then picked up the receiver anyway. She dialed the numbers by heart and listened as the phone dialed. After a couple of rings, Clark's cheery voice instructed her to leave a message after the beep. She hung up as the beep came, replacing the receiver back in its' cradle. She hung her head in her hands, letting fresh tears fall unchecked onto the carpet below. She had thought that perhaps that hearing his recorded voice would make her feel better, make her feel closer to him. Instead, it had only driven home the fact that he was gone.
"It should have been me," she sobbed. Raising her head towards the ceiling, she croaked, "Why Clark? Why not me instead? I deserved it, not Clark. And now...now he'll never know. Never know how I feel. Never know that I love him."
She dropped her head back into her hands, fighting to regain control of her emotions. She forced herself to think ahead. There was a lot to do now. She had to figure out her next steps in taking down Capone and his gang. She owed Clark that much. She would not allow his murder to go unpunished. She only hoped deep down that when they were finally caught, that they too would be killed - in a police shootout or by a court-ordered death penalty sentence - it didn't really matter to her.
No, she thought, shaking her head. Clark would never have wanted that.
But first things were first. Clark's parents had the right to know what had happened. Dread roiled in her stomach. How could she tell them that their only child was dead? She supposed she could let the police contact them, but she dismissed the thought as soon as it came. Clark was her friend, her would-be lover. She owed him the courtesy of telling his parents in as gentle a way as possible. Maybe hearing it from her would somehow lessen the blow, she reasoned. She knew that she would rather hear of a loved one's passing from someone she knew, as opposed to the cold, detached way that police seemed to have with such things. Her mind made up, she stood and crossed the room to the small table where she kept her phone and address book. Skipping to K, she found Jonathan and Martha's number. Clark had given her their number in case of an emergency, and she had given him the numbers for her own mother, father, and sister. Just in case. She shivered. Never before had she imagined that either one of them would actually need those emergency numbers.
Bringing the book to the couch, she picked up the phone again. She held the phone to ear for several long moments, listening to the droning dial-ready tone, steeling her courage and emotions. With shaking fingers, she finally punched the numbers on the keypad, each one driving a fresh stab of pain through her heart. She closed her eyes and nearly held her breath as the phone dialed. After a few seconds, she heard a click as someone picked up the other end.
"Hello?"
"Jonathan, it's Lois Lane."
"Lois?" Martha's voice echoed her husband's. "What's going on?"
Lois glanced at the clock. The time read 12:36am. "I'm sorry for calling you so late. I...I...I'm afraid that...it's just..." Her voice broke off as another shuddering sob washed over her.
"What is it honey?" Martha asked, her voice full of concern.
"It's Clark," she finally breathed. "He's...he's...he's gone."
"What do you mean, gone?" Jonathan asked, a hard edge to his voice.
"We...were tracking down these gangsters that this scientist brought back to life. Clark...he tried to save me. But they ...shot him him. He's dead. They...they took his body away. I am so sorry." Her voice trailed off in another high pitched wail.
Way to go, Lois, she thought disgustedly. Way to put it delicately.
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone line. She heard sniffling and in her mind's eye, she could picture them sitting in the living room of their farmhouse, tears in their eyes.
"I...can't believe it," Jonathan finally said, his own voice shaky.
"My boy," Martha moaned, distraught.
"I'm going to do all that I can to track down these guys and make sure that the police get them," Lois tried to reassure the Kents.
"No!" Martha said. "These guys are dangerous. I...don't want to see you hurt. Clark wouldn't have wanted it either." Her voice was husky with tears.
"I'm so sorry," Lois repeated, at a loss for other words.
"We...appreciate you letting us know," Jonathan said slowly.
"I...don't want to intrude...on your time of grief," Lois stammered. "I will let you know what I find out. I just...wanted you to hear it from someone who loved your son."
"Thank you," Martha replied. "And I know that Clark loved you too."
A sad smile ghosted over Lois's lips. "I know. I...I should be going. Goodbye."
The Kents said their goodbyes as well, promises to be in touch. Lois laid back against the couch, running a hand through her pageboy haircut. When she had been twelve, she had lost one of her aunts to a heart attack. She remembered sitting in her room, the door cracked open just enough to overhear her father and mother making phone calls to the rest of their family and friends. At first, each new phone call had lanced her heart with fresh pain. But after a while, numbness had set in, and hearing the story over and over again had become almost therapeutic. She wished that numbness would overtake her now, but it remained elusive. She picked up the phone again and dialed Perry.
"Hello, Alice, it's Lois...Yes, I know that it's late...of course it is an emergency...No, it can't wait until morning...please...thank you...Hi Perry..."
That phone call hadn't been any easier. She steeled herself again and dialed Jimmy's number. Her heart was even heavier than before. Jimmy had this sort of hero-worship with Clark, as well as being one of Clark's best friends. And now she was going to shatter that as well.
A half an hour later, she hung up the phone with Detectives Henderson and Wolf. A pile of wadded up tissues sat next to her on the couch. She lay in a fetal position, tears streaming. She was mildly amazed that she had any tears left. Never before had she cried so hard, not even during her parents' divorce. A slight wave of relief flowed over her. The police were now searching for Clark's murderers. More importantly, she didn't have to call anyone else tonight. She wasn't sure that she could make it through another retelling. She pushed herself up off of the couch and padded into her bedroom. She shrugged out of her clothes, realizing that she was still in the same outfit that she had been wearing when Clark had been shot. Revolted, she threw everything in the garbage, including her shoes and undergarments. Never again could be bear to look at them and know that she had been wearing that when Clark had died. It was, of course, totally irrational, but she wasn't in a rational state of mind.
She threw herself in the shower, turning up the water as hot as she could stand. It felt good, the hot, pulsing water against the tension in her body. But still, tears clouded her vision. She showered quickly and then rummaged in her bedroom for something comfortable to wear. She pulled out a t shirt and her heart caught in her throat. It was Clark's. A flash of memory jolted her. He'd worn it that time they had been staked out in the honeymoon suite while they were working on a case. Somehow, it had gotten into her luggage and she had forgotten to return it. She pulled the shirt on, hoping to feel close to him. She sniffed the fabric, hoping to catch some lingering scent of him, but it smelled only of the laundry detergent she had washed it in. A new sense of loss overwhelmed her.
Dressed once more, she wandered into the kitchen and pulled open the freezer. She glanced inside before reaching in and removing a tub of Double Fudge ice cream. She hefted the tub in her hands, passing it idly between the two, then sighed and returned it to the freezer. This was a new feeling for her. Normally, she would turn to the comfort of ice cream when she was stressed or upset. Tonight, however, the thought of ice cream churned her stomach.
"Superman, I need you," she whispered. "Where are you? Clark, I need you too. I miss you. I will always miss you. And I will always love you."
She looked at the clock. It was now 2:05am. She felt exhausted but knew that sleep would be a long way off. Padding back into the living room, her eyes fell on her computer. She sat down and pressed the power button, taking no comfort in the familiar whirring of the machine. She began to type, as soon as the computer was fully started. She supposed that she was too close to the story, but the idea of anyone else writing of Clark's murder only upset her further. She had been there, had seen everything. She alone could do Clark some justice.
REPORTER KILLED IN LINE OF DUTY
New tears pricked her eyes but she refused to stop. It was hours later before she finally emailed the story to Perry and fell asleep on her couch, knowing that a new day would not dull the ache in her heart.
~~~~~ Superman ~~~~~
Clark flew as fast as he dared, angling towards his home in Kansas. Tears threatened to blind him as he flew, but he fought them back. He was distracted enough as it was. Already tonight, he had nearly flown into four commercial jets, three radio towers, had hit a flock of geese head-on, and in a truly cruel twist, had smashed right into Lex Tower. Now the blue neon LEX on the side of the building read an ironic EX. Ex...ex-friends, ex-would-be lover, ex-life. Bile rose in his throat, threatening to make him vomit or choke. He swallowed hard, his heart heavier than it had ever been. Facing death by Kryptonite was far easier than this...this faking of his own death, this running from the life that he so desperately wanted to life, this running from the one woman he loved more than anything he had ever known.
His soul was tortured. His heart screamed. He truly felt as though he had actually died, had actually lost a friend, a loved one. In a way, he reasoned, he had. Never again could Clark Kent chase a story for The Daily Planet. Never again, could Clark Kent have the chance to be with Lois Lane, laugh with her over Chinese takeout, comfort her in times of sorrow. Comfort her. That's what he should have been doing right now, not fleeing Metropolis.
How had things gotten so out of hand? How had they gotten so messed up?
Lois.
The thought of Lois brought fresh pain to his heart. A scream ripped from his throat, animal and savage. He didn't care. Didn't care who heard. Didn't care what anyone thought. He screamed until his throat was raw, screamed until he had no breath left. Tears sprung into his eyes, freezing on his cheeks in the cold, high altitude. He brushed them away quickly and fought to control himself again.
At last, the farmhouse where he had grown up came into view. He slowed in preparation for landing. He landed lightly, then knocked on the door, calling out to his parents as he did so, so as not to frighten them. His father answered the door, sleep still heavy in his eyes. Jonathan's eyes filled with concern as he looked at his son's face.
"Clark, what is it?"
Clark sighed long and hard. "I'm dead," he said bitterly.
He pulled the screen door open and entered into the familiar house. It had always brought him comfort before, but not tonight. Martha stood in the doorway that separated the kitchen from the living room.
"What do you mean, you're dead?"
Clark's eyes took on a far-off look, following his dark thoughts. He shook himself as if to dispel such thoughts. He sighed again, and launched into the events of that evening as he sat at the kitchen table. As he spoke, his parents' faces became more and more concerned.
"I don't know what to do," Clark said, his voice thick with unshed tears. "Everything I've ever worked for. Everything I've ever dared to hope for. It's all gone. Lost in one lousy, one miserable second."
His parents sat silent, thinking.
"All my life, I've imagined myself living a normal life, having all of the normal things a life entailed. A job. A wife. A family. Now I've lost it all. All of my life I've been Clark Kent. Now he's dead."
"You are still Clark, son," his father said, squeezing Clark's shoulder sympathetically.
"I can't be. Lois saw Clark die. I wouldn't be surprised if she's already spread the word. How can I ever go back? Hi Lois, sorry I had to fake my own death. Hope it didn't cause you any pain." He spat the words out.
The phone rang, shattering the ensuing quiet. Clark looked at the clock. Who could be calling at 12:36am? His parents lifted the nearby phones, a force of habit. They always picked up both lines this late at night because it was usually Clark on the other line.
"Lois?" he heard his mom ask.
Clark snapped out of the dark thoughts that had snuck back into his mind and focused his super hearing on the phone. He could hear Lois on the other end, her voice tinny over the phone. He could hear the tears in her voice as well. Pain lanced his heart and it was an effort not to groan. He dropped his head into his heads and finally let some of his pent-up tears fall.
How dare he try to love Lois and still do something like this to her! But had he really had a choice? Should he have risked...no...destroyed his secret and revealed to everyone in the club that he was Superman? Or had he done the right thing in letting Clark die? He shook his head. No. Nothing was worth losing Lois over. But now what could he do? The situation was beyond repair.
Still half listening to both his parents and Lois on the phone, he thought that he should at least be proud of the grieving parent act that his mom and dad were putting on. But he wasn't proud. Only ashamed. Ashamed that they had to lie for him. Ashamed at the emotional hell he was putting Lois through. How dare he call himself Superman! How dare he fight for justice...and for truth...when he felt like such a lying coward.
Dimly, he was aware that the phones had gone silent. He looked up, wiping the back of his hand across his red, puffy eyes. His soul felt broken, twisted, shattered. His heart threatened to burst from the sorrow and the guilt that he felt.
"I heard," he said gruffly, before his father cold speak. "I'm sorry you had to lie for me."
"Whatever you decide, we will back you one hundred percent," his mother said, sliding back into her seat.
Clark stood and began to pace, absent-mindedly crossing the ceiling in overlapping pathways.
"And what should I decide? To give up who I am? To give up everything that means anything to me? Or to go back and shatter the Superman illusion? Maybe you guys were right. Maybe I should never have created the whole Superman fantasy."
"Maybe you don't have to," his father said slowly. "Lois and Metropolis still need you, still need Superman. I don't think you can abandon them."
"I've thought about that too dad," Clark said, shaking his head as he passed over the kitchen table. "Sure I could still see Lois and Jimmy and Perry. But it just wouldn't be the same. Superman doesn't get to shoot hoops with Jimmy after work. Perry doesn't ramble on with obscure Elvis stories when he's talking to Superman. And Lois...Superman doesn't get to talk to her the way Clark does, doesn't get to listen to Lois ramble on to the most random tangents and secretly love it."
"Then maybe it is time for your secret to be revealed."
Clark shook his head again, just as sadly. "How? How can I do that? How can I do that to Lois? Hi Lois, no I'm not really dead and by the way, I'm Superman?" He laughed bitterly. "I can't do that to her. It isn't fair."
"And this is?" his mother said hotly. "Is it fair that Lois thinks that her best friend is dead?"
"No," Clark admitted. "But even if I did come clean, I can't see how Clark would ever have Lois' trust again. She'd hate me."
He sighed. Normally it was so liberating to confide in his parents, to seek their advice. Tonight, however, it felt like confessing to the Spanish Inquisition. Not that they meant it that way or were trying to make him feel bad. He knew it was merely his own inner turmoil and confusion that was making him feel this way. Never before had he felt so alone, so lost, so helpless.
"Not to mention that I'd have to let everyone else in on the secret," he continued, picking up the train of thought that he had been having. "How can I do that? I am more than certain that my...coming out...as Superman...would be a disaster. Not just for me, but for everyone. There are so many...evil...people out there that would use those close to me to get at Superman. They have already used Lois. I can't risk it getting out that you guys are my parents."
Clark stopped his pacing, realizing for the first time that he was leaving footprints on the ceiling. He grabbed a towel and wiped them away.
"I know that I'm the one who decided on this whole secret identity thing. I really thought that it would work. But I don't think I can keep it up anymore. As much as it hurts, I think I have to learn to let Clark Kent go. But I am going to avenge his death. The only trouble is, now that I don't have access to the information I would have at The Planet, I don't know how I'm going to do it. All I've got is a ticket stub."
"What kind?" he father asked.
"From a movie theatre."
Jonathan's eyes brightened. "Don't you know that was how Dillinger got caught the first time? He's a huge movie buff."
A determined glint grew in Clark's eyes. A grim smile stole over his lips. "It looks like I have some staking out to do. Thanks dad, mom."
~~~~~ Superman ~~~~~
"Thank you, Superman," Lois said as she brushed drying concrete off of her clothing.
Superman flashed her a smile, then excused himself. "There's something I need to do," he said, flying off before she could tell him about Capone's plans to crash the party being held at The Planet.
Lois sighed, shaking in frustration. She opened her mouth to call Superman back, but a movement in the shadows of the darkened alley stopped her. For a brief moment, fear paralyzed her as the figure made a beeline for where she stood. As it came closer, she began to make out some of the features in the orange glow of the street lamps. Realization dawned on her, threatening to leave her speechless.
"Clark?" she called out, breaking into a run, heels clicking on the pavement.
A broad smile covered Clark's entire face and he picked up his pace. In an instant, she was in his arms and he in hers. Tears of joy welled up in Lois' eyes and fell unnoticed onto Clark's ruined suit, the same one he'd been wearing that night. Time stood still for them both as they hugged.
"Clark," Lois was murmuring, over and over as if to convince herself that he was really there.
"It's ok. I'm here," he soothed her, rubbing his hand comfortingly on her back.
She pulled away after a moment. "How?" she asked, as Doctor Hamilton came up alongside of them.
Clark smiled at her. Disheveled as she currently was, he thought that he had never seen so beautiful a sight. "Superman," he said. "He found my body after Capone dumped it. He froze me with his super breath."
"Freezing would prevent further tissue damage," Doctor Hamilton said, sounding as if his mind was whirring with thoughts.
Clark nodded. "He took me to your lab and used your notes on cryonics to bring me back. So it's like I never died." He gazed over at Lois, his heart nearly breaking with relief that he had found some way of resurrecting the life that he wanted. His incredible luck in the matter wasn't lost on him. If Doctor Hamilton hadn't left those notes in his lab...Well, in any case, he had been graced with a second chance and he was not going to squander it.
He kissed Lois on the cheek.
"I'm so glad my work finally did some good," Doctor Hamilton said, fairly beaming with pride.
"The Planet!" Lois said, as Capone's plan came to mind. "He's going to kill everyone."
"Call the police," Clark said, "I'll meet you there."
"No way! I lost you once, I am not letting you out of my sigh again," she admonished him.
Stopping Capone and his gang was absurdly simple. Clark had managed to separate himself from Lois and had appeared as Superman in enough time to catch the bullets that the gang had fired at The Daily Planet staff. Everyone had helped in the apprehension of the gangsters. Clark had been impressed at the way Lois, Perry, and Jimmy had handled themselves in particular. Then he had flown off, allowing Clark to rush into the newsroom, huffing and puffing from "running" up the steps.
"Has anyone seen Clark?" Lois had been asking as he walked in. No one had noticed his entrance in the chaos of the moment.
"Uh, Lois honey, Clark is gone," Perry gently reminded her.
"Don't believe everything that you read," Clark said cheerily. "Man, I have got to get back to the gym." He placed a hand to his abdomen to emphasize his shortness of breath.
"CK?" Jimmy sputtered, not quite believing his own eyes. He grabbed his friend in a hug.
"How?" Perry asked.
"Long story," Clark assured him. "I'll tell you on the way back down to the lobby. Being dead kinda takes it out of you." He yawned and it was no act. He'd been without sleep for too long, not since the night before his "murder" and a lot had happened since then, including a 36 hour stake out on the movie theatre where he had finally caught Dillinger.
"I'll drive you home," Lois offered, rubbing his arm affectionately.
"Thanks." He flashed a brilliant smile at her.
On the elevator ride back to the lobby, Clark made good on his promise, giving Perry and Jimmy the same story he had given Lois. Jimmy, in particular, couldn't keep the grin off his face. Perry shook his head and laughed, relief evident on his face. In fact, he seemed so thrilled to have Clark alive that he utterly forgot to throw in one of his famous, albeit, obscure bits of Elvis trivia. In the lobby, Clark saw Detective Wolf standing with Doctor Hamilton. No charges were being pressed - Clark had refused. After all, he literally would not have been standing there if not for the doctor's work - however many half-truths were buried in that.
Once in Lois' car, Clark finally allowed himself to relax. He slipped into a light sleep, feeling guilty as he did so. Lois was trying to tell him something. But he just could not keep his eyes open. Too soon, she was stopping the car in front of his apartment. He got out reluctantly, then watched as she drove away.
Inside his apartment, he stood for a moment, taking in the comforting feeling of being home. Truly being home. Odd, how completely safe he felt there. How much more like home it felt than his parents' house now did. He ran a hand lovingly down the banister as he descended the steps. Home. He wanted to shout his excitement, his happiness to the world. If he was more rested, he would have flown to the Andes and let such happy cries out. But not tonight, even though he'd restored some of his strength in Lois' car.
He slipped off to the shower instead, enjoying the hot water on his skin. Finishing, he wrapped a faded blue towel around his waist and sat back on his couch. He thought for a moment. It was still on the early side and the brief nap in Lois' car had revitalized him a bit, as had the hot shower. He decided to call home. Excitedly , he filled his parents in on the story he had come up with. He couldn't quite tell if they were upset with his continued charade, but it was clear that they were relieved that he had found a way to be happy again.
A knock on his door stopped him mid-sentence. He X-rayed the door quickly, and instinctively grabbed for his glasses.
"Mom, dad, I gotta go. Lois is here...Yeah, I'll talk to you soon...Love you too. Bye."
He hung up the phone and crossed to the door, acutely aware that he was only in his glasses and a towel still. He unbolted the door and allowed Lois inside. She had changed out of her concrete and cake ruined clothes and was in a pair of old sweatpants and a t-shirt.
"Oh God, I'm sorry, I should have called first," she stammered when she saw his attire...or rather, his lack thereof.
"No, it's ok," he assured her. "Just uh, make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back."
He dashed into his bedroom and threw on a pair of thin cotton pants and a black t-shirt, very aware of Lois' eyes following his retreating body. He supposed that should make him happy. But he was concerned too. Why was she here?
Coming back out, he poured her a cup of coffee and sat next to her on the couch.
"Sorry," he said as he settled down. "I was on the phone when you came."
"Your parents," she said with realization. Clark nodded. "How'd they take it?"
"Well, they were shocked but more than anything they are grateful. They told me how you had called them the other night. Thank you...for being the one to do so."
"Clark," she said, staring at her coffee. He recognized the move as one of the things Lois did when she was afraid. Why was she afraid?
"I'm not gonna like this, am I?" he asked.
No, I mean, it's not like that. I tried to tell you in the car. But you...fell asleep." She started to rise. He stopped her with a gentle touch on the arm. "I should let you sleep," she said, her cheeks flushed.
"No. Please. Stay," Clark said. "I'm the one that should be apologizing. You were trying to tell me something and I..." his voice trailed off.
"No, no. You've been through a lot lately. Clark, the whole time you were dead...or being...repaired...or whatever...why didn't Superman tell me? I went through hell thinking I would never see you again."
"Well," he said, picking his words carefully, "from what Superman told me, what he did was a long shot. I guess...he just didn't want to get your hopes up."
"Still, it would have been better having some hope than none." She took a sip from her mug. "But still, losing you made me do a lot of thinking. When I thought I would never see you again, never hear your voice again, I couldn't stand it. It was like my heart had been ripped right out of my chest and replaced with a painful chunk of ice. Clark, you do know that you are my best friend, right?"
"Of course I do," he said, as she took hold of his free hand. "And you know that you are mine, right?"
Lois nodded. "Yes. But there was even more than I realized. I realized that I didn't want to live my life without you in it. Over the past year and a half, I've come to..." she swallowed hard.
"To?" Clark prompted her.
"To love you. And I don't mean as my partner, or as my friend, or as some brother that I never had. I mean, I do love those things about you. And it bothered me that you were gone and that I had never told you just how much I really do love you." She seemed to draw up into herself as she waited to see how he would react.
"Lois," Clark laughed nervously, "are you feeling ok? I mean, it is possible, common even, for someone who had gone through something traumatic like that to think that they are in love with the person who is gone...or has saved them."
Tears welled in Lois' eyes. Clearly this was not the answer she thought that she would receive. She shook her head. "I'm not confused," she stated firmly. "I've never been so clear about anything. Forget I ever said anything."
"Great," Clark muttered to himself. Then, louder he addressed her. "No. I just meant...Lois you have to know that I love you too. I just...wanted to make sure I guess. Before I did anything...out of line."
She arched one eyebrow. "Like?"
"This," he said, as he leaned over and captured her lips in a kiss.
"Clark," she breathed when they broke apart. "Can...can I stay here tonight? I know it sounds silly, but I still have this fear that if I leave, that you'll disappear again. Like this is some kind of illusion that you're back."
"I'm not going anywhere," he said. "And I am really back. Um, you can take the bed, if you give me a few minutes to put fresh sheets on."
Lois followed him to the bedroom. "Clark, that's not exactly what I meant when I asked if I could stay here." The look she gave him silenced any doubt he might have had about her meaning.
That night, they made love.
Clark awoke early the next morning, Lois' still sleeping form curled next to his own body. His left arm was curled around her back, naked flesh to naked flesh. With his right hand, he brushed a wayward lock of hair away from her closed eyes, pulling her tighter against his chest as he did so. Looking at her, he smiled and kissed her head, drinking in the scent of her coconut shampoo. She was so warm next to him and his heart threatened to burst in unbridled joy.
Lois stirred and Clark barely had time to put on his glasses.
"Hi," she said groggily. A smile spread over her face.
"Hi," he whispered back. He kissed her lips softly. "Go back to sleep. It's still very early."
"Ok," she yawned.
Her eyes fluttered shut once more and within moments Clark could feel her breath return to the deep, even breathing of sleep. He lay back, settling himself deeply into his pillows, but his eyes never left Lois. He smiled as he gazed at her.
All was right in the world. Clark was alive.
