The late afternoon sun was almost completely obscured by the roiling dark clouds scudding across the slate-gray sky. The slicing wind pursued dead autumn leaves across the cemetery in a macabre game of tag. Without using his special vision abilities, Clark couldn’t see the freshly cut epitaph on the tombstone clearly. But he didn’t need to see it. He knew what it said. He’d more than memorized it over these last seven days.
The words were branded into his brain, burned deeply and painfully.
He’d failed. Superman had failed. When push had come to shove, he’d failed to save the life of someone who was important to him. When his abilities had been needed the most, they had failed him. When his good judgment had been most needed, he’d made a choice, and then he’d watched someone close to him die. A life had ended, a life with so much promise, so much ability, so much potential, so much love. Now all that was left was a cold earthen blanket over a coffin that held her mortal remains.
He didn’t look up. He didn’t have to. He’d known they were coming before they’d arrived. All of them had come today: the short, out-of-time-and-place man with the funny accent and funnier-looking time machine, the dour police inspector, his humorless by-the-book partner, and the woman who – without her quite knowing it, without his quite realizing it – had held the key to his heart for so many years.
At least one of them, more often more than one, had come for him each day at about the same time, waiting, hoping that he’d come away from the freshly turned earth, hoping he’d leave with them. He could hear them talking, and he knew that they knew he could hear them clearly, so none of them raised their voices above normal conversational tones.
The woman put her hand on the gate and peered into the gathering gloom. “Clark?” she almost whispered. “Are you ready to go?”
He didn’t move. There was a hitch in her voice as she continued, “Remember what you once said, Clark? You told me that today is the first day of the rest of my life. Please, please be ready to live again. I am.”
He still didn’t respond. She turned to the older man beside her. “Mr. Wells, do you think I should go and get him? You know, bring him away from – from there?”
In another time, at another place, Wells’ reply might have been preceded by a hearty chuckle instead of a mournful sigh. “And how do you propose to perform that super-human feat, my dear? If Clark Kent does not wish to be moved, there is no power on Earth that can force him. At any rate, even were his strength only that of an average man, your recent injuries and subsequent recuperation have reduced any physical force you might have brought to bear against him.”
She sighed back. “You – you’re right, of course. I just wish – Clark?” She turned and called to him again. “I’m coming over, okay?”
He thought about waving her away, but he didn’t. Maybe it was time to let go. Maybe it was time to go home.
Stiffly and cautiously, she knelt down beside him on the damp, clammy grass. “Clark? Come on home. Please. It’s time.”
He didn’t raise his head. He thought his eyes would fill again, but they only stung. Maybe he was finally running out of tears.
He sighed deeply, a shuddering sigh that racked his powerful frame. “I should have saved her.”
She sniffed once. “You tried, Clark. You did your absolute best, just like you always do. And you did save me.”
“It wasn’t good enough this time. I wasn’t good enough.”
One hand lifted to brush away a tear. “You can’t save everybody. No matter how hard you try, you can’t do that. No one can.”
“But – she – I—”
“Clark?” She touched his cheek with her palm. “I loved her too. We were family. And I’ll miss her for the rest of my life.” She brushed the edge of his jaw with her thumb. “But it’s time to go home now. Please?” She tugged gently on his elbow. “Please – come home with me?” She hesitated, then added, “And I mean – with me to my place? Where I can take care of you?”
He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He turned to her and his eyes betrayed him. She reminded him so very much of her sister, so much so that it was almost painful.
The tears he thought were long drained from his body started again. He was tired, so very tired, and he would have fallen to the ground had she not held him upright and tugged him against her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around his head and held him while he sobbed. Her tears mixed with his, and they embraced each other as their grief and pain overwhelmed them both.
“That – that day—” he bit out. “That day – when—”
“Shh. I know, Clark, I know.”
Without meaning to do so – and all the while wishing he could somehow forget – his perfect, blemish-free memory replayed it all, beginning with the dinner he’d hosted for his friends.
