From part 13:
And as much as he wanted to finish what they'd started in reckless passion, he knew it wasn't right.
Clark watched the confusion and hurt cloud her darkened eyes. He'd screwed up. Said the wrong thing. Done the wrong thing. Let his raging emotions get the better of him just because he thought she might...
"Did I do something wrong, Clark?" Her voice was hesitant, tinged with hurt.
Oh, God. He shook his head. "No." He kissed her forehead lightly and brushed her cheek lightly with the back of his fingers, then pulled back to look at her again. "No, Lois. It's me, not you. I... can't."
He felt her flinch slightly at his words.
As much as he'd dreamed of this moment, he wasn't ready. And that killed him. Tore him apart to see the hurt in her eyes, and the rejection he knew she was feeling.
He was an idiot, and now he was panicked. What did he say? How could he reassure her that he still wanted her without... actually showing her?
"Lois, please..."
She turned her head away, biting her lower lip.
"I... I just..." Clark struggled for the right words to keep her from shutting him out. "I don't want to mess up the best thing that's ever happened to me."
~~~Part 14~~~
Her breath caught in her throat, and she whipped her head back to meet his eyes. "Oh," she breathed. Oh. What on Earth did she say to that?
What... how... how did he know? Why did he think that?
Lois Lane was nothing. Dead. On paper at least. How could he... after only three days... how...
"Lois, please believe me when I say there's nothing more I'd want right now than you." He gave a barely audible sigh, and continued, "But it's not right. Not now. I don't think I'm ready, and..."
He trailed off, and ran a hand through his hair. She tried not to pay attention to the way his muscles bunched and settled. And when he shifted away to sit beside her, it was a relief to not to feel his bare chest against hers, but she felt the loss of his closeness all the same.
"And..." he continued, shyly handing her her shirt, which she hugged closely to her chest, covering herself. "With the way I seem to screw things up, I... I just don't want to add another failure to the list."
She swallowed hard, not daring to speak or to move. She wasn't sure how to handle that. First he says he loves her, then he's ravaging her all of a sudden... and now... Was he so unsure of himself that he couldn't bring himself to be intimate with her? Or was he unsure of her...
He brought a gentle hand to her chin, turning her head and making her look at him. She wished he hadn't. She didn't want him to see he'd affected her. That she'd let herself believe this was more than it obviously was.
"You're too important to me."
She inhaled sharply. Damn him for continuing to steal her breath. Damn him for making her believe that he really did care. About her.
Love her.
And damn the tears welling up in her eyes.
It wasn't fair for him to care so much when she was so lost and alone, dying to feel alive again.
She was supposed to be tough now, strong, handle things on her own; she'd survived the Congo. And so much more. She wasn't supposed to be falling in love with a broken superhero. But she couldn't help but see the parallels, how much they had in common. How much they *needed* each other.
Even if making love would have made her feel connected, cherished, it would have only been a temporary feeling. A quick fix. Her hormones protested the thought, but it really was too soon. She wasn't ready either.
She looked up to find Clark staring at her, looking utterly vulnerable and maybe just as scared as she was.
"Say something," he pleaded, his voice rough and feeble all at once.
She sat up, clutching her shirt to her chest, trying not to look at the large, muscular expanse of his. Damn him for being so good looking, too.
"C-can you put your shirt back on?" she blurted, ducking her head, wishing the first thing that'd come out of her mouth hadn't been so idiotic.
He chuckled, and she tensed.
He must have seen her do so, because his hand came to rest on her arm. "Only if you do the same. You know... uh... all the way on." He nodded towards the bare skin of her shoulders that was still showing.
She couldn't help but giggle, somewhat nervously. "Sure."
Clark nodded and moved to get up, blushing a bit when he handed her her bra. She took it from him, and watched as he went to retrieve the top of his suit. Her jaw dropped when all of a sudden, Clark turned into a blur before her eyes. When he stopped, he was fully clothed in his costume - without the cape.
He cleared his throat nervously; apparently she was staring. Wow. She... hadn't known how fast he was. He kept surprising her.
She shook her head. "S-sorry. I... I'll just get dressed now."
Clark smiled a little uneasily, a creeping blush rising in his cheeks again. He turned around to give her a little privacy.
Lois put herself together quickly, putting her bra and t-shirt back on. This was nothing less than awkward, and she was starting to be grateful that he'd stopped them. Just imagine how they might have acted around one another if they'd... made love.
Love? That's what it really was. Wasn't it? Could it be?
"Okay," she said quietly when she was finished dressing and had run her fingers hastily through her hair. What were they supposed to do now?
Clark turned back around, a timid grin on his face, and almost against her will she found it was infectious. She ducked her head and blushed.
There was a slightly uncomfortable silence for a moment. Lois wasn't sure what to say to him about everything that'd just happened. About what she was feeling. She couldn't even get a handle on it herself. She itched to fill the void with something inane.
"I wonder what time it is," she thought aloud.
"About eight thirty, I think..."
"Oh. Way too early to try and break into the headquarters. Some of the workaholics might still be there." She frowned a bit, eager for something to get her mind off what had just happened, but disappointed that there was nothing they could do right now.
She watched Clark smooth out a depression in the sand with the toe of his boot. "Yeah."
Think, Lois. Something to say. This shouldn't be awkward, right? She didn't *want* things to be awkward between them.
Hah. Right. How could it be anything but? Here she was on a deserted island with a man she'd just met days ago, just having shared an intimate, but unnerving moment. After he'd flown out on her hours earlier because he'd been too embarrassed to share what was troubling him.
Nope. Not awkward at all.
Well, they *had* come here to talk. And there was no more avoiding the conversation they needed to have, as much as she'd like to hide her head in the sand. Now would be the time to talk when he couldn't rightly fly off and leave her stranded here.
"Clark?"
He looked up from the small hollow he'd made with his nervous foot after just having filled one up. "Yeah?"
"We need to ta..." Oh, that always sounded bad, didn't it? She started again. "I'd really like it if we could talk." There. That was better. Right?
He stood there for a second, staring at her. She was relieved not to find blind panic in his eyes, just a touch of wariness, which was comforting because she was nervous as heck.
"Okay."
***
Clark moved to readjust his cape on the sand so they could both sit, trying desperately not to think of what they'd done atop it only minutes ago. He needed to be clear-headed here. Not screw up.
Please don't let him mess this up.
He sat down, hoping she'd take the cue to sit down next to him. She settled herself cross-legged facing him and gave him a tentative smile.
He smiled back.
Whatever he'd been wishing for before, he had it now. In spades. Or at least he thought he did.
And that made him more nervous than he'd ever been in his life.
He did his best to tamp it down, though... because of...
The connection. The feeling he'd cursed when he was in the other universe. The feeling that had made him dead certain his Lois wasn't alive. The feeling that had been painfully absent when he'd realized she was alive after all. The feeling that had crept up on him the other night.
The feeling that was almost painfully prominent now as he sat across from Lois Lane, wondering what the hell to say.
"You told me you love me."
Clark's head snapped up. That hadn't been on his top-ten list of topics to expect.
It was almost more of a question than a statement. He had. He'd said it. More than once. And... he was pretty sure he meant it.
He wasn't ready to look her in the eye, scared of what he might find... or not find there. His reply was quiet. "Yeah."
"Wh... how?"
How? He had to look at her now, and found her brow was furrowed a bit. Her eyes were... almost sad, but held a hint of uncertainty in them. The emotions flowing through their connection were jumbled, hard to read. Too strong.
"What do you mean?"
Her voice was quiet, uneven, almost pleading. "I mean, why do you love me? How do you know?"
Why? Why did he love her? He loved her because... he just did? Because, before he'd ever met her, he'd realized how incomplete his life was the minute he knew she existed? Because for the first time in months, he didn't feel like he wanted to die? Because she was here?
Clark looked into her eyes, and said with a certainty he hadn't known he possessed, "Because you make me feel alive."
He heard her breath hitch, and then she swallowed. The seconds stretched between them, and he was positive neither of them breathed. He watched her eyes grow damp with tears that threatened to overflow.
Finally, she spoke, her voice quiet and shaky. "I... I'm not sure why... but I think I love you, too."
He exhaled. Somewhere deep in his chest, Clark felt a part of him begin to heal. And for a moment, he couldn't breathe again. His head started to spin, a thousand different emotions swimming through him that he couldn't quite tell if they were hers or his own.
He leaned forward to catch her lips with his own, bringing his hands up to frame her face. A sweet, tender caress, his mouth slanted against hers. The kiss was over almost as soon as it had begun, but it held no less meaning than the fervent ones they'd shared just a short time ago, if not more.
They both sat back and regarded each other shyly. And after a moment's silence, she spoke.
"Clark, tell me what happened. What made you leave?" she asked, surprising him for the second time in just as many minutes.
No.
No, he wouldn't ruin this moment. He wouldn't. Couldn't they just forget it ever happened? He felt fine now. More than fine. He felt overwhelmed by her admission, but everything he'd ever wanted was right here on this island, right in front of him. He didn't want to move. He didn't want to spoil everything with his insecurities and failures. Why couldn't she have left it alone? Why couldn't they just stay here forever? Their stolen sanctuary.
"I-I... need to know. I... maybe... you don't trust me."
All the air whooshed out of his lungs.
Didn't trust her? How... How could she think that?
"Lois, of course I trust you!"
"Then why wouldn't you talk to me?!"
"Because..." He hated the whimper that'd crept out in his voice.
"Because why?" He hated the uncertainty in her voice more.
"Because... I... didn't want you to be ashamed of me."
"Ashamed? Clark, why?" Some of the hurt and uncertainty had left her eyes now, but her voice was insistent.
He hung his head, not wanting to watch the disappointment surface in those beautiful eyes as he told her. His voice was no more than a whisper. "I didn't make it to a rescue. I... couldn't go."
Her hand came to rest upon his knee, but he still refused to look up at her.
"I changed into the Suit and... I choked. I couldn't move. I couldn't go." His voice was low and defeated, and he hated himself for it.
Clark heard her take a deep breath. She wasn't sure what to say. He knew it. She couldn't figure out how to tell him how upset she was at finding her hero to be... lacking. Her hand left his knee. She was moving away from him. She was... moving to his side...
He felt her arms come around his shoulders to embrace him. He sagged with relief into her arms. He didn't want to talk anymore; he just wanted to be held by her, reassured by the fact that she accepted him.
But Lois pulled back after a moment, and silently urged him on.
He took a shuddering breath. "I can't do it, Lois. I can't be the hero everyone thinks I am." He hung his head, not wanting to look into her eyes. "And I didn’t want you to know that. To know who I really am. I'm not like him."
Her voice was quiet, soothing. "Him who?"
"The other Clark. The other Superman."
"Why?"
He was grateful for the lack of reproach in her voice, but didn't she understand? He'd told her about the other rescue... but he'd made it to that one....
"He *is* Superman. I'm... not. I can't be like him."
"I don't understand, Clark. You're Superman, too."
How could he explain? He opened his mouth and closed it again. How could he explain that he didn't have what it took to be a superhero? "I... I'm no good at it. I don't have the same confidence. I don't have..."
"You don't have what?"
Lois. He didn't have Lois, the missing part of his life. His inspiration. His confidence. His courage. But... he *did* have her now.
Didn't he?
Was that the difference between him and his counterpart?
Before it had seemed so, but now he wasn't so sure. Was he confident now? If he heard a cry for help right now, could he go? Because he had Lois now?
He... wasn't sure.
There had to be more to it than that. Even though he'd spent last year convincing himself of that very thing. That he couldn't be anything without Lois. He couldn't be the person he was meant to be because he thought she'd been dead.
But she was here. She'd *been* here. And he still hadn't been able to.
There was something wrong with him. Something other than the fact that Lois had been absent from his life until just a few days ago.
Courage. Confidence. Faith in himself.
He didn't have that. He didn't believe he could do it.
"Clark?" She touched his arm, drawing him out of his thoughts.
"I... I don't believe I can do it. I'm not strong enough."
"Oh, Clark. You *are*. Just look at everything you've overcome! I may not know you quite well enough yet, but for some reason, I just *know* that you're stronger than you think you are."
He hung his head and whispered, "No, I'm not."
"I know you are. Because..."
He listened to her take a trembling breath. Her words hung thick in the air, and he looked up to find her eyes watery but determined. He didn't say a word and waited for her to finish.
"I... I know exactly what it feels like to lose your parents..."
His breath hitched. She knew?
"I know how lost and alone you must have felt... like your whole world has been torn apart, and you don't think you'll ever feel complete again. When you find yourself an orphan in a world that doesn't care."
What she was trying to tell him with such anguish her voice finally sank in. He'd known. Of course he'd known. But... he hadn't realized just how much she knew. She knew what it felt like...
Her eyes were so full of pain. Pain he knew. That he recognized with a terrifying clarity. "Lois..."
She looked at him with tears in her eyes. "My mom and dad. And Lucy, too, my sister. It... it was a car crash... just like your parents."
Oh, God. He felt her remembered pain mingling unbearably with his own - buried, but crashing back to the present with a fierce strength. "I'm so sorry, Lois."
She sniffled and swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "It's okay. It was a long time ago. I just... haven't talked about it in a long time."
He gathered her in his arms and held her tight, not knowing what else to do, what to say.
After a moment, she snuffled and pulled back again. "Sorry, we were talking about you here, not me." She gave him a watery smile. He reached out to wipe a few of her tears away with the pad of his thumb.
"You're strong, Clark, stronger than you know. You just have to have faith in yourself. Dig deep down; you'll find you have a lot more courage than you think."
How did she know? How did she know exactly what he'd needed to hear for so long? And why hadn't he been able to do that before?
It was her. Lois. His beautiful Lois. He might be placing too much stock in her, but he didn't care. From now on, he'd try. He'd try to be the hero she believed he could be.
A small seed of fear still gripped him, but now... because she believed in him, he'd try.
He looked back into her teary eyes and lost himself there. Maybe it was because she'd said she loved him. Maybe it was her unflagging faith in him. Maybe it was because they shared the same tragic past. Maybe... Oh, hell!
Clark cupped her cheek and brought her lips to his, tasting the salt of her tears mingled with his own. He couldn't even describe the emotions that flowed between them. Love. Faith. Hurt. Healing. He found his solace in her kiss. Their tongues tangled; their souls melded. And he drew strength from her as he tore himself away from her lips.
He rested his forehead against hers, breathless. "Thank you, Lois." He closed his eyes as he stroked a thumb over her damp, tear-stained cheeks. "Thank you."
"Clark?"
"Yeah?"
"Will you just hold me for a little while?"
His heart swelled. He didn't think there was anything that could ruin this feeling. "Always, Lois, always."
He laid back slowly against the sand, bringing her with him in his arms. She snuggled against him, burying her head somewhere in the hollow of his neck. He found himself exhausted now after his sleepless night and all the emotions of the day.
Clark moved to kiss her crown of dark, tousled hair and whispered to her before he closed his eyes and drifted to sleep. "I love you, Lois."
***
<I love you, Lois.>
The soft murmur echoed in her mind.
<I love you, too, Clark.>
He smiled, though he couldn't have read her mind, and tightened his embrace, clearly on his way to dreaming.
She wasn't brave enough to return the sentiment so casually, but she knew now that she did. Lois closed her eyes, and let the sound of the waves lapping the shore lull her to sleep.
***
"You're keeping an eye on Daly, right?"
"Yes, sir. She hasn't abandoned post yet. Everyone here in airport security is advised. She won't get away."
"Good. Now I..." His attention was averted by the blinking light of the reserved line. "Keep me posted," he said curtly, then hung up and quickly answered the other line.
"I've lost her, sir."
"What?!"
"She took a cab through rush hour traffic. I lost her."
"Well, was she doing anything of consequence before she got into the cab?" Johnson was really testing his patience.
"She was at the library. On the computers. Unfortunately, I couldn't get close enough to see what she was doing."
"You imbecile. Find her! And mark my words, Johnson, no one in my employ lives long enough to screw up twice."
TBC...
