Very nice!!
“That’s not the only reason you’re alive, Clark. It’s not all you are good for.”
“Really?” he answered, just the slightest trace of bitterness in his voice. “What else can I do? Besides help my folks around the farm, I mean. And even that I only do at night and small things. No one can see work happening at the farm at super-speed.”
<snif> I can't imagine Clark surviving this--Well, I guess that's all he has been doing--survivng...not living.
He was lonely. This should not have been a revelation to her. Of course, he was lonely. But somehow she had been so caught up in how awful this whole ordeal was for her, she had not thought too much about Clark. Martha was right – she had sort of thought the whole “Clark is dead” thing was a fallacy. Without too much thought, she had sort of imagined Clark living the same life as before, just on the farm.
But of course, that’s not the life he led. He had no companionship, save his parents. No one he could talk to. This was almost laughable given how starved the press was to hear sound bites from him. But, she reminded herself, they wanted sound bites from Superman, not Clark. And for the first time since she realized that they were the same man, she realized that they were not really one and the same. And suddenly, while Lois knew she could not forgive Clark for what he did to her, she wanted to put aside her anger for a few minutes so she could understand how they had gotten to this point.
Oh, you're giving me hope here. I know she's not done being angry, but is this a light at the end of the tunnel?
Lois looked around her room some more before taking a deep breath and continuing, “I felt so guilty for forcing you into that club,”
“It’s not…” Clark tried to cut in, but Lois shook her head impatiently.
“I know it’s not my fault, but it’s how I felt. Like… like I had killed you,” Lois’ voice was soft and she looked down at their clasped hands for a moment before she stood up, yanking her hand from his, “But of course, I hadn’t. You weren’t even dead.”
Clark said nothing, but she could see the shame in the slump of his shoulders, and see the apology in his eyes before he spoke, “Lois, I’m so…”
“I know,” Lois cut him off. “I know you’re sorry, but it’s not enough. You can’t know what it felt like to live with the knowledge that I had killed you. Ten years. Ten years, Clark! How could you let me think that for ten years!” Lois burst into angry tears realizing again that she would never be able to forgive him.
And you snatch that hope right away--the light at the end really WAS a train.
Come on. . .I love angst, but just a little movement here would be nice. Please
More soon please.
Vonceil
