Clark blinked at her slowly, not processing her words. He didn't understand. They were united by some string of incredibly good luck, had one night of passion, been separated for three years only to be brought back together and for what? This?
"Say something."
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His mind was spinning. What was it, cancer? She was so young-- a year younger than him, if he recalled correctly-- and she was dying? No. That had to be wrong. She needed a second opinion. Or she was pulling his leg, testing him. Fate couldn't be so cruel.
"Clark, please. I've got a lot more to say so just say something. Get your reaction out of the way."
"I don't understand."
Tears were welling up in her eyes, and they were too real for her to be joking. But she had to be wrong. "Clark--"
"There has to be a mistake," he shook his head and backed up a few steps. "This is a mistake."
"It's not a mistake, Clark."
He flipped his glasses up to rest on top of his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm not saying you're lying. I just... why are you telling me this?"
She looked pained at his words for a few moments, before she squared her shoulders and looked at him with a fire in her eyes. "I assumed, wrongly, that you would care. At least a little."
His heart leapt into his throat at that, and he rushed to her side to comfort her. His hands floated above her awkwardly, not sure exactly where to touch her, what to do for comfort. He settled his hands on her shoulders. "Lois, that's not-- I do care, Lois. I do. I just don't understand. How can you be sick? You look perfectly healthy, and we just met again, and-- it's just not fair."
She snorted. "You know how many times I've said that? It won't change anything."
Clark shook his head, resettling his glasses onto his nose. This was the worst thing. This was so horrible that, of every possible scenario he'd imagined for their possible meetings, this didn't even make the list. It had started out as such a good day, too. "Then why are you telling me this?"
"Because!" She exploded with anger suddenly, and Clark took another step back as she paced towards him in fumes and then back away. "I need to know how you'll handle something like this. I need you to know-- even though it was a fling, a one-off-- it did mean something. And you have a very small window to decide whether or not I'm worth it to you."
"Of course you're--"
"Hold on. Because I know you're gonna say the right thing. Because I know you-- god, it felt like I knew you forever in less than a minute--"
He only stammered a little on his interjection. "--I did too--"
"But you need to think long and hard about what you're saying before you just spit out some answer that you think is the right one."
His heart ached for her. "Lois." He didn't know what to say. She was right. He knew he couldn't be irrational about this, jumping to conclusions about what this meant for them and their relationship when he hadn't thought he'd ever see her again only ten minutes ago. He walked over the chair he'd been sitting in what felt like eons ago and plopped into it gracelessly. Her eyes were on him, burning through his skin like she had laser vision and he shuddered.
"You don't get to turn our lives upside down only to turn around tomorrow and decide it's not worth it."
"I know," he sighed heavily, rubbing a hand across his jaw. She was right in some ways but in others she was wrong. Because even though he should be rational and level headed, he knew the answer he'd almost given would be the same conclusion he'd arrive at days later, and he'd only waste more time. Time was not something they had in abundance. He pursed his lips tightly. "Do they know... What is it? Cancer? Is there-- have you looked into alternative treatments--"
"Clark."
Her voice was pained and he shook his head. "No. There has to be something. Have you... I hear Kettering is--"
"Clark, stop!"
He shut his mouth again and he looked to his feet in dismay. This was not how this was supposed to go.
"This isn't something you can fix, and you're just going to have to accept that. I've been to plenty of different doctors, and specialists, and sat in more than enough waiting rooms for a lifetime-- you don't think there's people more qualified to take this on than you?"
He backpedaled quickly. "No, that's not what I'm saying. I just--"
"And not only that, but you think you can tackle it in one afternoon? We haven't seen each other in three years! I've been dealing with this on my own for--"
A sob caught in her throat and she cut herself off sharply with a ragged breath. Clark snapped his head up to look at her, suddenly making the connection. His heart started pounding, and he turned in his seat to face her more fully.
"How long, Lois?"
She didn't respond except to lock her red-rimmed eyes on his, and Clark felt the room tilt around him dizzyingly.
The door cracked open, and Clark jumped out of his skin. He tore his eyes away from Lois to look at the intrusion. Mr. White cleared his throat. "Uh, sorry to interrupt, Lois, but Caroline from downstairs called--"
Lois broke finally, brushed a tear away and turned and left Perry White's office. Clark furrowed his brow further as she stormed away. A pit formed in his stomach, deep and gnawing and nauseating in its fathomless depths, and the only thing he knew was he had to follow her. He launched to his feet--
"Whoa, slow your roll there, Kent."
Mr. White's hand was firm on his shoulder, and he let the man push him back down into his seat. Clark pursed his lips again and stared past the man towards Lois, who was gathering her purse and items from her desk like she was heading out. His pulse spiked with fear. He'd just found her; she couldn't leave now. He couldn't lose her... He moved to stand again, but Mr. White was still blocking him.
"Sit down, son."
"I'm sorry, Mr. White. I understand how... how unprofessional this all must seem. It's always been a dream of mine to work for a paper like the Daily Planet, but right now there's more important things--"
"Oh, the interview's over, Kent, trust me. That's not why I asked you to sit down."
Clark finally looked up at the man he'd hoped would be his boss and noted the dark look on his face. He swallowed and nodded, settling back down into his chair with the pit in his stomach ever-growing.
"Now you listen here. I'm not going to pretend to know what went on between you and Lois-- even though I think I have a good idea-- but that's neither here nor there. Whatever happened in the past is in the past. But right now, in the present? Lois doesn't need this. She's dealing with enough as is and if I find out you're trying to start trouble with her, you and I are going to have more than words, understand?"
He nodded at the man slowly, wide eyed and a little terrified. He hadn't expected to get the disapproving father speech from her boss.
"I don't know nothing about you, but I know you don't deserve that girl. And she's done nothing wrong. She doesn't deserve to be hurt by you."
"I never thought I'd hurt her, Mr. White. I just didn't know--"
The editor held up a hand for silence, and Clark followed it to the letter. "You never know, Kent. Make that the take away. You never know who you're going to hurt. And it's usually the people we love the most."
Clark sat with those words in silence for a few moments, the gravity of it all finally sinking in. He didn't know where to go from here. He couldn't just leave her forever, after finding her again. At the very least, he had to find out everything he could about her illness, see if there was something they'd missed, something he could help out with.
If you weren't the cause of it to begin with, a little voice whispered in the back of his head.
"What are you doing still sitting here? Get."
Clark scrambled to his feet and murmured a quick if insincere thanks Perry White's way before leaving his office. He scanned the entire floor for any trace of Lois, but came up empty. She'd left. His shoulders slumped. He didn't get the job, he wasn't welcome here anymore and to top it all off, he'd lost the girl anyways. Great.
The dream of seeing her again was fast becoming a nightmare.
Clark swallowed thickly and braved the crowds of the bullpen. He had to get out of here. He should just go home. He could get a job somewhere else. Sure, Metropolis was the dream, and reporting, but dreams had ways of disappointing, as Lois had just proven. Maybe he could just call his parents, see what they thought he should do... but how on earth would he explain this situation? Hi mom and dad, I met a girl three years ago and we slept together but I lost her and I saw her again today and turns out she's dying and it's probably my fault.
That would go over well. He could practically feel his mother boxing his ears already.
A kid a few years younger than him ran into him suddenly. "Sorry! Didn't see you there, pal..."
The young man looked up at him strangely, and Clark tried to play it off as no big deal with a tight smile and a nod. "No problem. It happens."
He made a move to walk around him, but the guy put a hand on his sleeve, halting him in his tracks. "Hey, have we met before? You new here?"
Clark frowned now, unsure of where this kid was going. "I don't think so. And no."
"Huh. Weird. Must just have one of those faces."
He adjusted his glasses nervously. "Yeah, maybe."
"Olsen! Get your behind in here!"
The young man grinned and tapped his arm good naturedly. "Duty calls. Maybe I'll see you around somewhere."
Clark watched the young man bound off in confusion. This city was weird. Maybe he'd take a quick flight to somewhere isolated and let out his frustrations with a scream.
He passed the time with research, trying to reverse engineer Lois' steps in their time apart as though he might stumble upon something, anything, that the doctors had missed. He had frustratingly little information though. He realized that no matter where things went from here, he had to speak with her again.
She deserved to know the truth about him, at the very least.
That was how he found himself in the lobby of her building at nine in the evening, scanning surreptitiously through the mailboxes to figure out which apartment number belonged to her. It was intrusive, bordering on harassment, but it was a necessity.
He didn't think he could live without knowing what became of her.
His eyes alighted on a utility bill with her name on it, and he grinned at the unexpected victory. He was starting to think he'd gotten another wrong address.... Clark bounded up the stairs three flights without breaking a sweat, barely able to contain himself, only to skid to a halt outside her apartment door.
He suddenly realized the importance of what he was doing.
He hesitated.
Fist hovering over the door, hanging in the air suspended, breath tight in his chest. He took a moment to adjust his glasses, his tie, an unruly lock of hair flopping over his brow, and he wished belatedly that he had taken the time at some point during his day to call his mother. She'd know just what to say, just what balance of tone to strike. She'd rake him over the coals and dry his tears and encourage him all at once, and he needed all of that in this moment.
He counted to three, breathed in deeply, and knocked on Lois Lane's door.
Nothing.
Clark shifted nervously on his feet. Maybe it was too late. It was early still, but it had been an emotionally draining day. And she was sick. A wave of humiliation crashed over him, because of course it was late, and he was a fool for thinking she'd be up for visitors. Least of all, for him.
But he couldn't just... leave. That wasn't right. He squirmed and knocked one more time.
An irate growl greeted him through the door, and he stood ramrod straight at the sound. Her feet crossed the space quickly, angrily, and while he was still trying to process and filter all the different sounds and muttered curses, she flung the door open. "What?!"
Clark opened his mouth and found his words missing. How did she keep doing this to him?
Her expression filled with panic for a millisecond, before settling into cool distaste. "What do you want, Clark?"
He suppressed his own panic and swallowed his pride, and the words poured out of him faster than he could edit them. "I know it's bad timing. I know I'm three years too late and you're right; this will change everything. But I also know," he licked his lips, trying to pull his thoughts together. "I circled the Daily Planet for about an hour and a half waiting for the chance to run into you again. I... I know I spent the entire day away from you, trying to retrace your steps for the past three years. I know my heart still beats triple time at the smallest glimpse of you, at the prospect that you've been out here thinking about me too."
She closed her eyes gently, sadness washing over her expression. "Clark," she warned.
"And it wouldn't be overturning my life." He toseed his arms up on a laugh, fighting the tears burning in the corners of his eyes. "I barely have a life! I've been rudderless, wandering the world, searching for you... And if it were just about loving you, I'd still be doing this." He stepped into her, barely a hip's width apart, and he struggled to remain focused. Clark reached out and touched her chin gently, raising her eyes back to meet his as those brilliant brown orbs fluttered open. "But it's not just that. It's this sickness. And you can argue all you want that it's your problem, that you can handle it on your own, but it's mine too. I want to be there for you, Lois. In every and any capacity you'll allow. I'll take you to doctor's appointments. And, and... and I'll help you out around the house, and I'll wait on you hand and foot and God forbid anything worse happens, but I swear I'll be there for you through all of it." He held her face in his hands a little firmer, the thought scaring the sense out of him. "I... I need to be here for you, Lois."
She bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut tight. It wasn't helping stem the tide of her tears in the slightest as they traced the curve of her cheek. He brushed them away with a gentle thumb, one after the next, hands shaking. "Please."
Lois shuddered in his arms on a ragged breath, and he held his. She blinked up at him finally, a small, sad smile pulling at her lips. "You're a good man, Clark. You're too good a man. Which is why you don't deserve all this."
He shook his head back and forth sharply. "You deserve it less."
"No, Clark... You don't understand--"
A loud clack and a soft thud sounded from somewhere inside the apartment, and snatched his attention away. Clark frowned, listening carefully. He picked up on the slight padding of feet. His heart sank. "Is there someone in your apartment?"
She croaked slightly, trying to form words, and Clark suppressed his initial reaction of panic as best he could. He could survive this. He was probably overreacting, and x-raying into her apartment would be an invasion of privacy...
"Mama?"
He'd never felt his blood go so cold so fast.
Lois wiped her tears away rapidly and turned to face their intrusion with a watery smile, as though she was oblivious to the maelstrom of emotions that word had sparked inside him. "Hey, Hana. Hey, baby girl, Mama's here."
The door gave way behind her, and for a moment, all he could see around Lois' form was a frizzy mop of curly dark hair. His heart stopped beating and stuttered back to life again. Lois bent over and lifted the girl into her arms-- he saw chubby little hands reaching for her mother, clinging to her shirt. Lois made soft, soothing noises, barely registering in the back of his mind, because he was mesmerized, staring at the most beautiful little girl with the most beautiful brown eyes staring right back at him.
Hope and terror rattled against the cage of his chest, because in one moment he'd never wanted anything so badly.
The little girl turned and buried her face against Lois' chest shyly, and Lois tittered a small, nervous laugh that was half entwined with a sob. "Clark... this is Havana. My-- our-- daughter."
