I'm sorry. I know this took forever and a day to post and is fairly short. Work has just exploded and so not only have I had less time for writing, but my muse has seemed to have decided a vacation is in order. It feels so painful to get a few lines of text down each night. Hopefully, this will be resolved soon and the magical answer to all the questions I'm hoping to answer in this story will come to me.


From Chapter 7:

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.


Lois stood near her window, tears streaming down her face and a whole host of emotions coursing through her. She was angry, so angry at Clark. She was sad in a way she had not been in a long time, recalling what it had felt like to think that he had died. And she was disappointed. For a few moments she had felt like perhaps she and Clark were working back towards being friends, but then she had remembered what he had done to her and wondered how she ever thought they could be friends again.

She was startled when she felt his hand on her shoulder. He pushed something soft into her hand and glancing down she realized it was a tissue. She brought it up to her face, brushing the tears off her cheeks.

Feeling devoid of energy, she moved back to the bed. Sitting down, she stared blankly ahead of her. A moment later, she felt the dip in the bed as Clark took a seat on the bed beside her.

They said nothing for a few moments before Clark whispered, “I don't know. I know it seems like I should, but I just don't.”

Lois took a deep breath to calm herself, before looking over at Clark. “What don't you know?” she asked, hating the nasally sound to her voice from crying.

Clark said nothing for another moment before taking a deep breath of his own. “You asked how I could let you think I was dead for ten years and I don't know. There are a thousand reasons running through my head, but none of them are anything more than rationalizations. I was scared of letting you know who I was – I had always known it was something I had to keep a secret. I didn't see how it would make it better for you. It would just upset you, make you feel the need to live with something you probably wouldn't want.”

Clark took another deep breath and when he looked at her again, Lois could see the pain in his eyes. “All of those are true, but they are not reasons or good ones anyway. I should have told you. I see that now, but I can't go back and change it and I can't tell you why I didn't tell you then because I don't know why.”

Clark glanced at the comforter again and Lois watched him not knowing what to say. She saw a tear fall from his cheek, but did not know what to do, how to move on from this place. She recognized that despite herself, she wanted to find a way past this, a way to live with Clark in her life, even peripherally, without his presence only reminding her of all of her pain. But she felt powerless, with no idea how to get there.

Clark looked up at her, his eyes shining with unshed tears, “Lois, I wish I could go back and do it again. I wish I could…”

Lois cut him off, asking, “What's a typical day like for you now? Who are you now?”

Clark looked at her quizzically, and she continued, “I don't want to talk about this now. What is a typical day like for you now? Tell me, please?”

Clark smiled slightly as he picked at a piece of lint from her comforter. “Not that exciting. I listen for cries for help. I fly around all day, trying to keep busy. Some days, it's easy. Lots of things going on. Some days I spend a lot of time changing tires and saving cats from trees. It's not glamorous. I help my folks on the farm, although mostly after dark in case someone comes by and sees me. I sleep in the same room I did as a kid, with mostly the same stuff around me as then.”

“Mostly?” Lois asked, suddenly curious if Clark kept any mementos of his old life around.

“Well, I have a few things from my travels after college. The three additional copies of To Kill a Mockingbird I had picked up since I moved out. A few things from my time at the Planet...” he trailed off.

“What do you have from the Planet?” Lois asked.

Clark looked at her before moving his glance back down to her bed. “The article on Promotheus. My Kerth. My name plate. A picture of all of us – you, me, Jimmy, Perry, and even Cat at some party. A picture of you.” The last was said so softly Lois nearly missed it.

“A picture of me?” Lois asked.

“Well, of us, really,” Clark replied, his face a deep shade of pink. “From the Kerth Awards.”

Lois nodded, happy somehow to hear that.

“Lois, I'm sorry,” Clark whispered. “I'm sorry I lied to you. I'm sorry I let you suffer. I'm sorry I didn't do a better job of being your friend. I don't expect you to forgive me. I know what you said makes sense – that I couldn't have done that if I liked you, but it's just not true. I do like you, I love you. I just… I just don't know how to make things better for you. But…” he voice trailed off, and he stared outside again.

“What?” Lois prompted him.

“I don't think I should come by anymore,” he whispered. “I'll still give you stories – I'll find someway to do that. But… I can't see you anymore. I feel like you're finally moving on with your job but my being here means you're not moving on with your heart. You're young and… and so smart and beautiful. You need to meet someone and get married and live happily ever after.”

Lois said nothing, trying to ignore the truth in his words. She had not felt like she was holding back in terms of romance, but it was true to some degree. She no longer saw that as something that was possible for her.

“I want you to be happy, Lois. I know it's hard to believe that, but I do. Tell me what I can do to help with that,” he was still whispering and looking at her so earnestly now she was having trouble keeping her eyes on him.

“I am happy, Clark,” Lois said quietly, although she was not sure it was true.

Clark sighed, “Really?”

“Really,” Lois affirmed, looking up at him. Taking in his eyes, she felt herself back down, “Well, mostly.”

Clark gave her a look that had “I told you so” written all over it.

“I just need more time,” Lois clarified.

“Wouldn't it be easier if I wasn't around?” Clark asked, his voice still soft.

“Does it matter?” Lois asked, a slight edge of bitterness in her voice.

“What do you mean?” Clark asked her, looking surprised at the question.

“You've decided I'd be better off without you. Why bother pretending there's any chance you'll come by regardless of what I want?”

“I don't…what do you mean, Lois?” Clark asked again.

“Isn't this what happens? You decide what's best for me and then do that regardless of what I think?” Lois asked. At Clark's blank look, she continued. “Clark Kent is shot. You think I won't care – for a reason I still don't understand, but okay, that's what you thought. But then Perry makes it clear that I do care, very much and so you decide to tell me that you're not really dead. But then some ex-girlfriend – someone I should say who has never shown any sign that she loves you for who you really are at all, tells you it would be better for me if I didn't know. And you listen to her! Why, I have no idea, but regardless of the fact that you know I'm hurting, you listen to her and decide not to tell me for my own good.

“Then I sink into depression – something I should point out that could have easily been rectified by backing out of the first decision and just telling me you weren't dead, and you decide that I need professional help. I tell you I don't want it, but you decide that you know better than me and forcibly carry me to a doctor.

“When I finally get a job writing again, I come to you looking for a way to tell the world what happened to you and you do nothing more heroic than to weep on my couch. But then, while I'm still tortured, not knowing the right thing to do, you decide for me and submit an article in my name.

“So why should I think this is going to be any different? You've decided it would be best for me if you aren't around. Why make any overtures to this being a conversation? Why not try being honest for once in your life, Clark? I don't have a choice. You have made the decision and you manage to do exactly what you want while feeling noble as you feel like you've done what's best for me regardless of my opinion.”

Lois was breathing heavily when she finished speaking, but her eyes were clear as she looked Clark directly in the eye.

Clark looked back at her, shock written all over his face. “Lois, I'm…I'm…” he started, but did not finish. For several minutes, neither said anything. Clark stared blankly out the window while Lois watched him, her breath slowly returning to normal.

Clark's head turned around slowly until his eyes met hers. “I'm sorry,” he said simply. His eyes held a look of shame, but not the same beaten down look he typically got when he apologized for not telling her he was alive. No tears covered his eyes. His eyes were clear and strong, but he looked sorry. “You're right, Lois. I didn't mean to, but you're right. I made decisions for you. I'm sorry.”

Lois almost laughed, although she was not sure why. She felt lightheaded, like she had run a marathon. She continued to look into his eyes taking in the apology there, the sincerity.

She reached forward, placing her hand in his. “So, what are we going to do?” she asked, her voice soft.

“I think…” Clark took a deep breath. “I still think it would be best if I didn't come by anymore. But if you don't agree…” Clark looked down at their joined hands, squeezing hers slightly, “I'll do whatever you want.”

Lois smiled at him, feeling happy for the first time. “What I think is that you not coming by anymore is ridiculous. We need to figure out how that kryptonite got to Australia and I don't see how we do that without you being here.”

Clark smiled back at her, reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear. “I'd really like that Lois,” he whispered, his hand dropping to her side.