Remercier

I don't know why I came here.

I forgot, when I saw Clark standing there with the lights off, Lana speaking to him from the television. She's still beautiful, but she looks sad: she's crying. I close the door behind me, and just stand in the hall, watching Clark watching Lana.

I can just hear what she says to him — that she loves him, that she's leaving him. Clark just stands, his back to me, watching Lana break down for the last time for him.

And I know what he is thinking: at least she's OK, but Clark, you matter too. This is hurting you, and I know. There is a note of finality ringing out through all the air in the room, and you've loved Lana since before I knew you.

These last few years have been hard for you, how is this not the last thing that breaks you?

Then he bows his head, and I think he is breaking, and then he turns to me, and I know it's true. I see in his face — he tries to pull it together, but he can't, and something in me breaks too, just for him.

I am flying: in moments I have crossed the room, and my arms are around him. A rush of breath — "I'm so sorry," — and now I know why I am here: because he needed it. It doesn't matter why I came.

He's holding me so tight, as if he might fall down, and I hold him up, trying to share the world which rests on his shoulders. I don't know if he is crying, but I think I might be, because it's not fair that Clark has to hurt like this all the time and be alone with it.

We just rock, I don't know how long, and I don't mind. In a few minutes, we'll break apart, but not yet, and until Clark lets go, I will be here — even if he never lets go.

This is all I have to give. It's all I ever have. I hope it's enough.


I don't know why she came here.

She is just here, standing in the door, and watching me. I want to pull myself together for her, but when she looks at me like that I just can't — not now, not when I've lost Kara, and Lana, and everything.

It's over now. Lana won't dream of me again. I haven't dreamt of her in a long time. It's the end of all the things I used to want, and with everything else it's just, it's just —

Somehow her arms are around me, pulling me in, and whispering in my ear: "I'm so sorry," and, oh god, she means it. She's holding me so tight, keeping me on my feet, and I know that, just for a few moments, I don't have to be strong.

And it's everything on top of me: losing my dad, Lex, Lana, everything. I have never felt more rooted to Earth — and Lois is lifting me up from beneath. She always is. She's always here, giving me this, and I, I need it.

I am falling apart, and I can just register it: she's holding me together, rocking me, rocking me, giving me what solace there is in the world.

I might never be able to let go. Lois, you think you're no good at this but you're perfect, you're perfect. You're giving me everything I need, and it's more than I ever expected anyone to give me, more than I thought I deserved.

My face is buried in her neck, warm, wet against her skin. I think I'm crying. The whole world might be falling down around me, I don't know.

It's so difficult sometimes, Lois. I don't need to tell you: you just know, and we've been here before. I just hope that, oh god, would it be selfish of me to ask you to be here the next time I need you?

I would be falling if you weren't here. It doesn't matter why you came. I'll be OK now.


Clark breathed in deep, and slowly relaxed his grip on Lois. She pulled back from him, and his arms fell to his sides, bereft.

"Thank you," he said: for being here, for being the shoulder I needed to cry on in the one moment I needed to cry.

Lois pressed her lips together, and then gave him a smile of solidarity. "I can stay," she said, "if you — need it".

Clark smiled, but his eyes were sad. He looked down, and shook his head, "No Lois, I know you're busy, and I think," he looked up, "I think I need to be alone for a little while."

Lois nodded. "You know where to find me," she said, touching his shoulder. Then she turned and walked to the door. She looked back at him over her shoulder, and gave him a weak smile, and then opened the door and left him alone in the house.

He stood there for a few more minutes, just watching the space where she'd been.

I know.

Thank you.