I wasn’t going to post this, but Dave made me!!!!!!! So… anyone who doesn’t like it can take it up with him! goofy Okay, but seriously - thank you, Dave, you’re awesome, you're the best, you rock!! smile smile smile


The Death of You and Me


I died tonight.

We… we died together.

I try to imagine that for Clark, it was too quick. There was no pain. But… Oh god, please let there not have been any pain! Or… awareness. Do you think he knew?

I’ve been shot.

I’m going to die…


No. Too quick. No pain. That’s… that’s better.

For me, the pain cut down to the bone. Did you know that you could feel pain like that? I never did. I didn’t know.

Maybe you think that I got off lucky.

His heart *stopped*. But mine broke. It broke into a million pieces in the space of a moment. One moment. In one moment, we were pulled apart forever, the stopped heart and the broken heart, bleeding together on the dirty floor of a place that we never should have been in at all. But the story was so big. I’d wanted to go…

I told him he didn’t have to go. But he knew I would go. He thought nothing could keep me from a big story. I thought that too. But now…

If someone had only told me how everything could… how he would…

I wouldn’t have gone.

But I went.

And he went.

We went together.

He told me how nice I looked. That made me blush, even though he’d complimented me many times before…

He looked nice, too, but I didn’t tell him. I never told him things like that. Do you think that maybe he guessed that sometimes when I saw him, I got a strange – and wonderful – feeling in my stomach? Do you think he knew? I hope he knew. I hope he knew that sometimes it was hard to concentrate. Like when he got too close, or when he smiled that way, or when he touched my shoulder, or looked at me like I mattered to him. Like I mattered more than everything else…

I knew. And I can hope he knew all I want, but I’m not stupid. I know that I never gave him any reason to know such things. To realize the secrets of my heart, my soul…

Clark…

How could I not have let him know? A compliment here. A touch there. Signs that he was more than… more than the friend, more than the partner, more than everything and everyone else. Special. And handsome. Beautiful. And perfect.

The things he did and the things he said… I always knew how he felt. Always. From the moment we met until the moment we died, I was in tune with his feelings for me. Okay, I pretended sometimes. It was easier that way. But I knew. Of course I knew.

I knew my own feelings too. I knew and I never said a thing! Never did one damn thing! I knew. And I can’t believe what I did. What I didn’t do. All the things I didn’t do. Didn’t say. How could I have let him think he wasn’t good enough? Or attractive enough. How could I have ever let him think he was not special and that he had never had my heart.

I… I never said… I never did…

He died for me! Did you know that? He was brave. He was good. He was perfect. And he loved me. Purely. Genuinely. Selflessly. Completely. Can you imagine being loved that much? By someone like him? Can you imagine it?

And would you believe me if I said that there was someone in the world that saw him – good and perfect and gentle and strong and caring as he was – and held a gun up to him? And fired that gun? Oh god. He saw him! He looked right at him! He looked right at him and he took his life away from him! In the blink of an eye, he took him out of this world forever.

You made a mistake! You killed the wrong person! He deserved to live! How could you let him die! How could he die?

How could you die?

And how could life, how could *anything* go on after that?

But it did. I saw that when I left that awful place, that place I had *needed* to go tonight, so badly.

Red lights. Blue lights. Yellow tape. Uniforms. Commands. Leads.

They were on it. They would find them. Maybe they would find him.

But will anyone find me?

No.

No one even knows to look. They don’t seem to know I’m dead.

They don’t seem to know that the one bullet fired, the one mentioned in their reports, killed two tonight.

I walked away, the moment their backs were turned.

Alone. Arms wrapped around me.

Did anyone notice the ghost walking through the streets of Metropolis tonight?

Does anyone know if ghosts can find each other if they want to badly enough? Can ghosts love each other? And be together?

What if one of those ghosts’ hearts didn’t stop? What if it just broke?

Is there some place where a living ghost and a dead ghost can be together? Where they can love one another. Where nothing can harm them and nothing can hurt them?

I look around at the night. Where is he? Where is the ghost of my soul mate, my life? There has to be a way.

I died too!

There has to be a way!

“Clark…”

I died too!

I was alive when I walked into that club tonight. Clark by my side. Normal. Natural. Right.

But I was dead when I walked out.

“Clark?”

I died tonight.

Where are you?

I died with him.

I love you, too.

We died together.