Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He doesn’t know why he followed her. 

Even now, looking retrospectively at his actions as Kal-El, he didn’t quite know why he didn’t fly or even just run away. 

There was nothing holding him back, nothing to truly convince him that following the loud and beautiful stranger would lead him to where he needed to go, and yet, he still followed her. 

After learning her name and wrapping a blanket around himself, he had every opportunity to simply leave her behind and find the sign he was looking for, and yet he followed her to her slow car, followed her into the overwhelmingly loud hospital building, and even waited with her for the better part of an hour, simply sitting atop a hospital bed, listening to her ramble on and on and on.

Why Kal-El chose to follow Lois Lane like a lost puppy but would not listen to facts laid out by his own mother, Clark would never understand.

If Clark was truthful to himself however, somewhere, in the recesses of his mind, he remembered what he had felt when he had awakened: new and vulnerable to the understanding of the world around him, yet empowered in a way only he could feel under a yellow sun, as the last son of Krypton.

He heard her ask his name– her voice sharp and direct, voicing the concerns that he had begun to raise himself of his Earthling persona– when he realized that it did not matter, for he was at full strength and health and he had a mission to accomplish.

Turning around to find her like a celestial being to which he had no Earthly comparison to had been enough to silence him, to keep his own concerns and commentary to himself and simply follow her, to assuage her concern and misplaced responsibility over him.

After he had completed his fill at the sight of her, needing only seconds to memorize every feature and molecule on her face and commit the frequency of her voice to his memory– but staying rooted in place to stare at her a bit longer as she paddled on about her long drive from the last big city she was at– he reluctantly announced his departure, standing up to leave the room only to have her push him back by the shoulders.

Logically, Kal-El knew that she could never move him from his place if he really didn’t want her to, yet there was something instinctively natural and amusing about allowing her to manhandle him and push him back wherever she led him.

While Clark would’ve scoffed at her attempt to boss him around, Kal-El couldn’t help but find the beautiful human endearing.

Hiding a knowing smile at the sound of her heartbeat picking up as she unnecessarily squeezed his bicep as she pushed him back, he sat in place as she popped another masticable square into her mouth, prattling around the room, clearly needing to walk off her reaction to him.

“You talk a lot,” he observed, not meaning the words as a critique as she went on to defend herself.

Still, Kal-El needed to find a sign, and the beautiful loud stranger had been distracting enough.

Clark would never willingly confess to any living soul, that as he settled into the old couch that night, he replayed his first real interaction with Lois in his mind. Recalling her snarky and already much too familiar way of teasing him.

He had walked towards Chloe’s grave, flowers in hand only to come upon the same girl he’d met in the field as Kal-El. The sound of her soft cries and heartbroken promises of retribution tugged at something in him, and he hadn’t thought twice before pledging his support for her, promising she wouldn’t be alone in her search for answers because… well, how could he? Leave her?

She hadn’t left him behind in the field. Hadn’t thought twice before helping him.

Now, knowing himself, Clark would’ve likely said the same thing to her had he not met her in that field, but he couldn’t allow himself to probe the thought extensively.

Didn’t linger long on the memory of her bright hazel eyes, which flickered brazenly between his own eyes and lips, taking his own teasing on the chin just as good as she gave– no. He reminded himself it was because she had helped him in the field without knowing a thing about him.

He was just returning the favor.

Chapter Text

The sight of Lana’s car pulling up into the driveway snapped Clark out of his thoughts regarding Chloe’ disappearance.

By the time he'd woken up this morning, Lois had been gone– bed left unmade and her clothes strewn across his floor as she had promised. He tried not to linger on her possible whereabouts in a town she didn't know, focusing instead on finishing breakfast with his parents before getting to work the tractor.

Seeing Lana step out of her car however, revealed to him just how unfounded his angst had been at never seeing her again when she first decided to go to France.

Seeing Lana return looking just as beautiful as ever had been a complete shock to his system, like the invisible rope he’d had tightened against his chest had simply loosened and he could finally breathe again.

Seeing Lois come around the car, however, made his breath hitch in his throat.

Still, his gaze quickly returned to the object of his affection and eternal love, suddenly squirming under his gaze as the object of his torment revealed Lana’s “hot summer fling” in France.

While the thought of her being with someone else didn’t come as a surprise, having agonized over the idea countless times, the way in which even Lois knew– meaning Lana had proudly boasted of her experience to someone she had just met– pinched tight at his chest once again.

There they stood— the one he loved, and the one who he couldn't be rid of. The one he'd spent long hours dreaming and fantasizing about having a long happy life with, and the other, who sparked a curiosity in him at an equal measure to how infuriatingly annoying he found her. Not to mention the sense of protectiveness that the girl elicited in him, given her tendency to involve herself in any sort of trouble.

“It’s okay,” he assuaged Lana immediately at the sight of her discomfort, reminding himself that despite his love for her, the only thing that mattered most was what was best for her. And he knew that wasn’t him.

Still. 

His feelings for Lana hadn’t changed in the slightest. They wouldn’t. Ever, he thought. Not at all. Not even at the prodding knowing hazel gaze of the woman at his side.

Because as infuriating as it was to talk to her about his feelings for Lana– the conflicted sense of unfounded betrayal mixed with hurt and disappointment– she was there. Filling in the blanks and voicing his feelings before he could even think to describe him and it annoyed the absolute crap out of him, sure, but no one had ever understood him so fast and at that depth before.

And while it shouldn’t have surprised him when he found out later that Lana thought he and Lois were together– because, well, they were spending an awful lot of time together trying to find Chloe’s whereabouts, his brain couldn’t connect the dots between the possibility of him and Lois ever being together like that.

Like he told Lana, Lois was bossy. And if that wasn’t enough, she was stuck-up and rude, and although she was absolutely beautiful, the fact was that Clark couldn’t stand her. Not one little bit.

Chapter Text

While she wasn’t the easiest person to handle for longer than a handful of minutes at a time, it quickly became rather… natural to have her at the Kent farm. 

Sure, he had to be mindful at all times of his abilities, needing to be careful about her catching him doing anything out of the ordinary, but he found he was instinctively aware of her at all times. He didn’t even need to tune into his abilities to listen to her or look through walls. It was hard to explain, and nothing he would ever voice out loud, but it was like Lois had her own gravitational force.

He blamed it on her mouth running faster than twice the speed of any normal human, and yet it was something else he didn’t want to look deeper into. All he knew, all he could accept in the forefront of his mind, was that he knew she was packing her few things back into her carry bag to take with her to Met U’s orientation.

He lingered on that thought as he tended to the cows in the field. Now that Chloe was back, safe and sound, and Lois had essentially accomplished her mission, she was due back to Metropolis to move into her new dorm… and likely never come back to Smallville. 

He hadn’t thought about her leaving so soon, although he wasn’t sure why. 

There was nothing holding her back anymore– and what's more, he would finally get his room and his privacy back, and he would finally obtain the peace and quiet he so desperately needed. 

And his parents too, were likely as tired of Lois as he was, although they never complained.

Come to think of it, although he’d seen his mother hide her exasperation on more than one occasion as Lois ran her down with questions at a speed faster than he could run, there was always a very visible and very genuine sense of gratefulness under that gaze. A surprise that such a young and vivid person could take such an interest in an ordinary woman– a mother, a business administrator, and a farmer’s wife. 

Lois’s unyielding interest and admiration brought out in his mother a younger and dare-Clark-say-it girlish side that he surely wasn’t used to, but didn’t resent in the slightest.

His father’s affection for Lois, on the other hand, had surprised Clark more than being told he was an alien from someplace in outer space sent for unknown reasons and with an unknown purpose. 

His father had been initially baffled at the sight of the unfamiliar brunette the day Clark had invited her to stay with them, being met with a freshly showered Lois, her long wet hair falling over her shoulders, clad in his flannel and little else (Clark couldn’t bring himself to consider she wasn’t wearing… underpants of some kind, although the only thing he could see for sure were miles and miles of legs). 

But more than that, his father had been disconcerted at the flippant, if perhaps incredulous way, Lois was treating the entire situation.

Clearly unused to modesty and discipline, she side-eyed him in annoyance as she babbled about the chopper he’d brought down out in the field, before giving Clark crap about not keeping his mouth shut before walking up the stairs to his room, which she had claimed as her own.

After Jonathan’s lecture for bringing down the helicopter, he’d watched his dad’s eyes flick up the stairs, “-and who is that girl anyway?”

“She’s Chloe’s cousin-” Clark began, but his mom cut him off, placing a placating hand on her husband's forearm.

“That’s Lois– she’s the girl I told you about. The one that found Clark in the field and brought him to the hospital.” He watched the heated look in his father’s eyes soften a fraction, before he set him on Clark.

“Does she need a place to stay?”

Since then, Jonathan Kent had quite taken to Lois, engaging her in stories of courting Martha and listening intently to her stories of having grown up at the base with her father, where she learned how to “kick ass”– Clark had kicked her lightly under the table, barely tapping her shoe in slight reprimand at the curse word he knew his parents wouldn’t approve of, but also wouldn’t outright correct, to which she replied with a heavy kick to the shin– by the time she was eleven, once she realized she wouldn’t be able to fend off the men she hustled during games of pool with her cute girlish dimples and sassy attitude any longer.

No, he decided. His parents weren’t as desperate to get rid of Lois because for once, they had a normal, if perhaps quirky, kid under their roof that appreciated who they were as a family unit, Clark himself included. 

He knew his parent’s greatest fear was him suffering from rejection by a world that wouldn’t understand him, but that fear wasn’t present when Lois was around. 

They weren’t as guarded with what they said around her as they were with the rest of his friends.

It was as clear as day to anyone that spent more than ten minutes with Lois Lane– though it took him much longer to truly see it– that she loved deeply and cared infinitely for the wellbeing of everyone.

At the time, however, he only considered that perhaps Lois was like the child they never had.

He immediately disregarded the thought as soon as it came, scoffing to himself. Not wanting to linger on why the thought came to him or why it made his stomach turn with disgust and dismissal, he focused on other things instead.

Catching sight of a football on the grass, he envisioned a game: the cheering crowd screaming his name, all eyes on him with smiles as bright as the sunny sky, a commentator’s voice echoing from the speaker, “What a ball game! It’s all tied up! Kent takes the step from his own ten-yard line, it’s hail mary time…”

Chapter Text

If only freshman Clark could see him now, he thought belatedly, lips locked onto Mandy Porter, head cheerleader, and surely this year’s prom queen– he knew his younger self would be boasting with pride, but the truth of the matter was that despite having an objectively pretty girl throwing herself at him, all he could think about as his lips moved along her slightly slimy-with-lipgloss cold ones, was the brunette currently not even attempting to disguise her disgust at the sight of them from behind the gym equipment.

“Oh, you’re so strong,” Mandy gushed at him, pulling away from his kiss to look up at him. He was careful not to react to the flash of pink visible from the corner of his eye. 

“Y-you’re so beautiful,” he floundered for something to say, shifting her slightly to keep her from seeing Lois hiding behind her, but Mandy shifted away instead, pushing him back to sit back down before quickly straddling his lap.

Clark determinedly looked her in the eye, careful not to look behind her as she asked him to express his affection for her in further detail.

“I’ll buy you dinner,” he replied without thinking, making the statement sound more like a question, and by the reflexive glance at Lois, realized it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “Cook! I’ll cook you dinner,” he corrected, much to her absolute pleasure.

Taking the faux Prada bag was harder than Clark anticipated, and it didn’t help that Mandy was desperate for every ounce of his attention.

“You seem distracted,” she pulled away.

“Um, I’m just nervous,” he accompanied an anxious chuckle, instigated by Lois slowly creeping away from them? What the hell?

“Why?” she demanded.

He hesitated, quickly weighing his options as to how honest he should be. On the one hand, there was no shame in not having had sex yet, it wasn’t a competition to the finish line and he had every right to wait for the right moment, but on the other hand, Lois was getting a center and front row view of his… situation.

“I’ve um,” he cleared his throat, glancing behind Mandy at a speed she couldn’t even detect as a blink, “never done what I think we’re about to do before,” he confessed, hoping his virginity would be enough of a turn off for her to slow things down, but his words only seemed to rile her further.

He tilted his head as she bent down to kiss him once more, searching Lois’s face for any sign of judgement or mockery but found her solely focused on the bag, as if she hadn’t heard a word. He didn’t know if he should be relieved or disappointed.

The bright light sheen of tears misting over Chloe’s eyes crushed something inside Clark, creating a deep and dark hollow, wishing– not for the first time– that he could reciprocate Chloe’s feelings. Everything would be so much easier if he felt the same way she felt.

In a moment of stupidity guided by the instinct to attempt to fix things and make her feelings all better, Clark leaned into Chloe, ignoring the way her breath hitched in expectation before he placed a gentle kiss to her cheek, feeling the hole in his gut fill with guilt and regret as he watched her exhale in disappointment at his action.

“Thanks,” she smiled sadly at him, eyes hurt and embarrassed, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The feeling of regret in the pit of his stomach heightened as he listened to her steps quickly rush away from him, only contrasted by the even faster pace of Lois, who quickly walked into step with him and without any hint of congratulations for his win out on the field, immediately threatened to break his legs if he broke her cousin's heart.

“What do you mean ‘come back’?” he repeated, eyebrows furrowing as he thought over what could’ve possibly made her want to leave now. Was she pissed he rejected Chloe? Was she disgusted at him for making out with Mandy? It had been her idea, though. Well, maybe not that part, but… but did she think there was something wrong with him for being a virgin?

No, Lois wouldn’t think like that.

“Apparently the dean got a call from–”

Ah. Lex.

“-a very prominent benefactor with the initials L.L.,” he looked away, trying to hide his amusement at her prodding of perhaps slightly accusatory tone, shoving away the thought that crossed his mind for a brief second because really, couldn't Lex have waited another day or two? “They did the white manpower dance and shazam! I’m officially a freshman.”

“Wow, that’s great,” he replied with a tightlipped smile, fixing the strap of his bookbag on his shoulder, averting his gaze from hers to look across the field.

“Oh, don’t pretend you had nothing to do with it,” she called him out, and there she was: Lois, as reliable as ever, to be the most direct person in any situation, “why would Lex call out of the blue on my behalf?”

“Look, the important thing is you got in and you’re leaving,” he replied yet knew it was the wrong thing to say even as he was saying it, even if he meant it teasingly. The fact was that it didn’t quite feel right that she would leave, despite how relieved he sounded. Still, it didn't matter how he felt about it, right? It was about what was best for her. 

Yet… looking into her hazel eyes as she scanned his face back, he wasn’t sure it was the right move entirely, “because that’s what you wanted, right?”

“Yeah yeah, don’t get all broken up about it,” she brushed him off, and as she went on to complain about the town, he dropped his gaze from her, considering the now numerous times she had sidestepped around any attempt at emotional vulnerability with him, even while being so adamant at voicing his emotions.

“I look forward to the relative normalcy of the big city,” she assured him, but he couldn’t quite look her in the eye as he listened to her flippant tone, managing only to smile tightly and nod at her, hoping it came across as encouraging rather than how he really felt, though he didn’t really have a word for how he felt.

He didn’t really want to think about it.

“But don’t worry,” she paused for a second, tipping her chin up at him defiantly, “I’ll visit.”

He fought back the urge to smile, “is that a promise or a threat?”

He lost the battle when she smiled at him mischievously, eyes glinting with mirth and challenge, her smile lines framing her grin.

Chapter Text

He sighed, attempting to reign in his exasperation as his mother commented on the pretty girls that approached him while he was trying to finish his trig homework at the Talon, having gently let the girls down about going to their party.

“Thinking about asking one of them out?” his mom encouraged with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

“Yeah, so that I can ruin it just when we’re getting close by having to lie about who I really am,” he sassed back, accepting the coffee she offered him, “just like I did with Lana,” he lamented, thinking back to seeing her a day ago looking healthy and happy without him. 

He was glad for her.

“Clark, there is someone out there for you,” his mother insisted.

“Who?” Clark scoffed, but it sounded more tired than incredulous, “mom, a girl would have to be crazy to get into a relationship with me.”

His mom pursed her lips and shook her head, turning around to start another batch of drip coffee, “have you heard from Lois lately?”

He startled slightly at the abrupt change of topic. “Uh no? Lois and I aren’t that close.”

“Oh well,” his mom shrugged, “she called me.”

He waited and when she didn’t continue, held himself back from rolling his eyes, “..and? How’s Met U treating her?”

“You should call and ask her yourself,” she replied cheekily, grabbing her clipboard to finish doing inventory in the back.

The interaction he’d had with the sheriff concerning Alicia continued to echo through his mind as walked down the hallway towards Chloe’s locker, finding her switching out her textbooks as she talked about Lana’s attack with Lois.

No sooner had he approached Chloe to ask her for help on finding others with abilities similar to Alicia’s, than Tim Westcott walked up to them, letting Chloe know he’d finished his op-ed piece.

“Great,” Chloe smiled at him kindly, if perhaps confused by his lingering presence, as Tim had never particularly gone out of his way to engage her in conversation.

“Hey Lois.”

Clark snapped his head up to look at Tim, who’s heart was beating much too fast in much too short of a timespan, trying to understand what could possibly be wrong with him. 

“Hey.” Lois, for all that she could be rude and stuck up, was never actually unkind. Clark’s eyes quickly turned to her, taking note of her well-hidden surprise at being singled out, as she rocked lightly back and forth, seeming antsy to get back into the conversation they were having.

He concurred with her on that. Couldn’t Tim just give Chloe his piece and leave?

“I had a feeling I’d uh- I’d bump into you here-” he felt himself stop breathing, his stomach plummeting to his feet as he understood what Tim was still doing there. He quickly turned to Lois, watching her stare at Tim with the expression of a deer caught in headlights. 

A quick glance at Chloe’s amused glinted eyes, trying to hold back a grin at Lois’s expense didn’t quite reflect the discomfort and slight… irritation he felt at Tim’s intentions.

“Um, I was wondering if- uh, you-you’d like to maybe have a cup of coffee… or somethin’ with me?...maybe?”

Clark’s eyes didn’t stray from Lois, absorbing the way her eyes widened even further and an unfamiliar but rather lovely pink reddened her cheeks. “Coffee?” she squeaked out, and the sight made Clark almost smile until he realized her eyes wouldn’t meet his.

“You know, Lois was just saying she needs to go out more,” Chloe intervened and Clark almost glared at her. Couldn’t she see Lois was clearly uncomfortable? He’d never seen Lois go speechless or squeak like that. 

She was the confident and straightforward woman who’d found him naked in a field and actually gave him more privacy than he would’ve expected from the person he knew now.

Lois glanced at Chloe, purposely not looking at Clark despite his steady gaze, as she turned to Tim, “I-I- look,” she chuckled nervously, but she didn’t get a chance to finish before he interrupted her.

“Excellent! It’s a date,” he finally handed Chloe his piece, but as the blonde commented on his headline, Lois' eyes finally met Clark’s. The look she gave him was entirely unfamiliar and undetectable.

Did she want him to intervene?

He opened his mouth to speak before retracting himself when Tim promised to tell Lois all about his piece over coffee. He figured Lois would be more upset by his assumption that she needed help, than grateful if he intervened and the look she gave him wasn’t as he interpreted.

He waited until he was out of earshot before turning to Lois, “I noticed you didn’t exactly say yes to the date.”

“Oh she’ll be fine,” Chloe spoke up for Lois once again, “Tim’s a great guy, and I heard he’s interested in becoming a local historian. The whole cool nerdy guy thing is right up your alley, isn’t it Lo?”

“Right,” Lois rolled her eyes, although she didn’t look particularly upset. Something about that bothered him even more, especially when she barely glanced at him as she followed Chloe into the Torch room, calling over her shoulder, “it’s just coffee, Smallville. What’s the worst that could happen?”

The question brought his mind back to the subject at hand, to the reason why he’d approached the girls in the first place. He decided to trek back and follow Tim, wondering if he’d seen anything out of the ordinary when he left the Talon last night.

Chapter Text

The weeks following Alicia’s death seemed to be an endless haze of grief and regret. He longed to be able to see her face once more, if only to tell her how sorry he was that he wasn't there for her when she needed him the most.

Alicia had shown him it was possible to live a life of relative normalcy, despite his abilities. With her, he’d known what it was like to be treated like any other person, just any guy taking a girl out on a date while also not being torn up about having to hide who he was from her. 

And truthfully, the fact that she knew about him and didn’t fear him made it all the more meaningful because he could finally be himself and be normal but also relish in her appreciation for his abilities.

Not that he needed the praise, but after hiding who he was for so long, he couldn’t help but savor the fact that someone other than his parents knew about him.

He only wished she knew how much she meant to him. He wished… he wished he’d gotten the opportunity to truly love her the way she deserved. The way she loved him.

And truthfully, that was the crux of his pain.

The words wouldn’t stop echoing in his mind: If only he’d trusted her the way she trusted him, if only he’d loved her the same way. If only he’d spent more time thinking about who she was, and all the good she could’ve offered the world as a person with special abilities, encouraging hope and safety instead of fear– but he didn’t. Because Clark Kent was a weak and fearful idiot constantly pining after Lana, despite knowing that wasn’t going to lead anywhere and he hated himself for all those times he found himself thinking about another pair of hazel eyes, as if-

He stopped himself dead in his tracks, a bubble of awareness and panic creeping up the back of his neck, but he ignored it and forced himself to disregard the internal reprimand, focusing determinedly on the interactions he’d had with those around him since Alicia’s death instead, not liking where his line of thinking was heading.

Because of course he knew he had Chloe and his parents’ unconditional support, that didn’t need to be said. Yet the way they seemed to look at him, with expectant, pity-filled eyes that seemed to turn into trepidation, stilted him from expressing himself, rather than comforted him. 

His parents kept looking at him like they were expecting him to run away again, only this time they knew he was plagued with an endless sense of guilt mixed with rage.

Chloe on the other hand was basically pole vaulting herself across the line of smothering him with conciliatory support and affection and completely acting like she’s never even spoken to Alicia.

He couldn’t even reach out to Pete anymore, and Lana— while sympathetic enough for his loss— was also distant, telling him she was still upset at him for accepting Alicia back into his life.

Now the only person who treated him with a modicum of normality was Lois.

She hadn’t attended Alicia’s funeral, not that he had expected her to, but what did come as a surprise to him was the call he’d received from her that same evening after the burial.

He had only just passed on his mother’s offer for dinner, softly telling her he wasn’t hungry and just wanted to go upstairs when the phone rang.

His mother watched him as she answered the phone, leaning back against the sink as the caller spoke on the other end of the line. Clark didn’t need his superhearing to recognize Lois’s voice chiming loudly through the speaker.

“Hi Mrs. Kent, it's me. Lois. I tried calling earlier but didn’t get a response… I figured maybe you all were still at the funeral,” but the raised intonation at the end of her statement sounded more like a question, clearly needing only confirmation.

Clark exhaled heavily through his nose, turning around to walk up the stairs. He tuned out his mom as she filled Lois in on a shortened version of their afternoon, but was stopped in his tracks as she called him back.

Clark felt his eyebrows raise as his mother handed him the phone, “It’s Lois. She wants to talk to you.”

He sighed heavily, glaring lightly at his mother as he considered maybe going up to his room anyway and let his mom deal with Lois, yet his mother saw right through him and narrowed her own eyes, shaking the phone out for him to take, her lips pursed.

With slumped shoulders, he took the phone and brought it to his ear, unsure of what kind of condolences she would give him. Would she echo the same words he’d heard all day, the I’m sorry that floated futilely in his general vicinity, because he knew that no one truly cared for Alicia the way they were pretending? 

They were all scared of Alicia. They weren’t really sorry she was dead.

“Smallville? I can hear you breathing on the other side of the line, you know. This isn’t the first time I’ve thought about telling you you should really consider a CPAP machine,” but before he could reply, she only sighed loudly and continued, “look, I’m not great at the whole offering you my condolences thing because I know it sucks and I’m sure that at this point, you’re tired of hearing it so I’m not gonna say it.”

He released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Thanks, Lois.”

“Yeah,” she replied and the way her voice rose with undisguised awkwardness almost made him smile. “I’m also… not gonna say anything else but…”

This time he did smile, if only a small and slightly sad one. She didn’t finish the rest of her sentence, leaving the words floating in the air. Although he would usually feign ignorance, if only to see her squirm under his silence until she anxiously spit it out in a not-so-friendly-way, he cut her some slack. “Yeah, I know.”

She paused, uncertain. “Do you?”

She wanted to tell him, if not in so many words, that she was there for him. That he could rely on her and she wouldn’t make him feel obligated to be nice to her in return. 

Because that’s what everyone else wanted: a mild-mannered farm boy, always willing to help them in any way they needed, but when it came to him needing something– something like time for himself to mull over decisions, when he needed privacy and the liberty of some secrecy, when he needed to be treated like an adult rather than a child– he was on his own.

“Yeah,” he nodded, because there was no question in his mind, “I do.”

“Good,” Lois chirped, unable to allow the moment to linger. “Sorry Smallville, gotta go. I’ve got some frat idiots to hustle.”

“Lois, who would’ve thought I’d be relieved to hear your voice?”

Though it was honestly an understatement. After what happened to Alicia, there was no way Clark was going to allow anyone close to him to die. Not on his watch. 

Still, the memory of her too-still and peaceful face submerged under water was a memory that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Lois pushed herself away from the railing, coming to stand in front of him, her chin held high.

An unsolicited thought came to mind suddenly, an intrusive and unwarranted comparison to the way Alicia regarded him: without fear, but almost meekly and submissive, as if she would acquiesce to anything he asked of her, her big doe eyes looking up at him from a curtain of blonde hair. 

Lois only looked up at him due to the logic of their height difference, for Lois would look at him the same way if he was four feet tall as she did at his 6'4” frame.

He dismissed the thought before it settled, focusing on her words instead.

“Look Clark, I don’t know how you did it, but if it weren’t for you, I’d be at the bottom of the Mississippi right about now.” As if he’d ever let that happen, he thought as he looked into her unwavering gaze, feeling rather taken when she held his gaze and said a soft, “thanks.”

He nodded, averting his gaze and suddenly feeling rather bashful as he swallowed thickly, “I’m just glad you’re okay,” he answered honestly, shrugging a shoulder and rocking back on his heels, “and going back to school,” he added, relieved her name had been cleared from the attack.

“That’s not entirely true,” she grimaced as she turned to walk away from him. As he turned to follow her with his gaze, he realized he’d subconsciously moved closer to her at some point.

He kept his eyes on her as she explained how she’d gotten the charges dropped, but was still expelled for all her usual Lois antics.

“Why am I not surprised,” he chuckled as he crossed his arms over his chest, an unwelcome thought suddenly occurring to him, “heading back to the barracks?”

“Not an option,” she exhaled softly, “my dad’s trying out the tough love approach with an emphasis on ‘tough’.”

He nodded, knowing by now to expect something like this from the Lane family, but something in him still felt for Lois. 

Despite her tough exterior, he knew it likely hurt her that her father wasn’t by her side after almost doing life in prison for manslaughter. “So what are you going to do? Are you going to stay with Chloe?” he tried softly.

“They’ve got a tiny one-bedroom apartment, I can’t do that to them,” Lois spoke in a casual tone that told him she’d already thought everything through.

Hyperaware of her proximity, they shared a simultaneous sharp inhale as she stepped closer, though his sudden nerves had more to do with the way she looked at him, her keen eyes entrapping him in her gaze.

He realized belatedly that her sharp breath was to brace herself for the flurry of increasingly alarming words that she spoke in a breezy and almost dreamy tone: “It’s fine! Really. I’m just gonna check into a motel and when the money runs out, I can always sleep in my car. The back seat’s not too bad if you bend your knees and avoid the drive train and then-”

“Lois-” he tried to interrupt with furrowed eyebrows, concern and horror filling him at the thought of Lois being out in the street. And her father just left her? He knew his dad was tough, but Jonathan Kent would never outright desert him.

“-and then, you know, if I have to sell my car for food, that’s okay too, I’ve always dreamed of being a hobo, riding the rails, cooking beans over roadside fires..” she trailed off and he was glad she did because despite how comical and lighthearted Lois tried to make it sound, the real fact was that she was homeless and that would simply not do.

She’d lived with them once, and that had been fine right? 

Well, other than her walking into the bathroom while he was in the shower, and minus the time he’d walked into his bedroom after knocking and awaiting a generous amount of time for a response, only to see Lois descending from a jump as she pulled up her pants, the zipper and button of her low-rise jeans still unfastened, her hair falling over her shoulders, pulled back from her face by the headphones blasting a Nelson song.

Not that he ever thought about that.

And while he’d already decided she’d be staying with him– or, well, with the Kents– if she wanted to, it was only consequentially fortified by her doing something Clark Kent had never seen Lois Lane do, as she– for the very first time in their acquaintance– dropped her gaze to his chest for an instant before looking up at him through dark eyelashes encasing a pair of pretty hazel eyes, only brightened by the sun shining in a golden glow behind her.

She batted her eyelashes at him. Her. Lois Lane. At him. Clark.

And then she did it again.

He exhaled shakily, “if you want, I uh guess you can stay with us-”

“You’re a lifesaver! God am I in need of a hot shower!” she belted out, quickly walking around him and rushing down the stairs, presumably running to the shower after promising to keep it under a half hour and smirking at him cheekily.

Still reeling from the entire experience that was Lois Lane, he simply stared after her, voicing out the only words that came to mind, “what just happened?”

Chapter Text

He learned his lesson.

Knew when he woke up from the rattling sounds coming from the kitchen, much louder banging than her usual coffee-making-drum-solo, that she was up to something. 

Then she’d made them breakfast– if they could call it that– which was already strange and unnerving enough, but her sudden nervous offerings to do other kinds of chores solidified his discernment.

“You want something,” he smirked, satisfied with himself that this time around it seemed to be her that was flustered, likely due to his parents' presence.

“No, it’s called being nice,” she defended adamantly, but he could hear the uncertainty in her tone.

“Yeah, well if you’d be any nicer, we’d starve,” he deadpanned, trying to nudge her to drop the meek act and spit it out already. He would most likely do anything she asked of him, but he wasn’t going to make it easy for her to boss him around.

“Clark,” his mom scolded him lightly, popping the bubble that had formed between the two teenagers.

“He’s right, Mrs. Kent,” Lois grumbled under her breath before sighing and dropping the frying pan lid in the space between Clark and his father. “Look- um,” she walked around the table to sit next to his mom. “See, you guys have been so good to me already..” but by the not so subtle look she shot at Clark, all but said farm boy excluded, “it’s kinda hard to ask for yet another favor, but um-” 

Her words were cut off by a light female voice ringing from the back door. While curious, no one felt threatened enough to rush out and investigate, turning to look at Lois instead, who grimaced visibly. 

They soon learned that the favor she had to ask of them, and the stranger who simply strolled in, were one and the same. Which is how they came to meet her sister, Lucy.

As had become somewhat of an unspoken motto for the Kents: where one fits, all do, they welcomed her in with open arms, his parents immediately taking her in and setting out to make room for her, while Clark listened to Lois gloat proudly about her sister’s accomplishments.

Lucy, seeming both bashful and elated at being praised, watched him with a bright knowing spark in her eye that seemed to reflect Lois’, yet the look contained something different he wasn’t used to seeing from the older Lane. 

Lucy observed him with unreserved appreciation, and while Clark would never be described as a vain man– in fact, he could sometimes be oblivious to that type of attention– there was an unmistakable flirtiness about the way Lucy regarded him.

“Wow that’s impressive,” he praised accordingly, the glint in her eye emboldening him to add, “what happened to Lois?”

Two clashing sounds resonated in his ears simultaneously. One was the light sound of Lucy’s breathless giggles, and the other was a sound undetectable to the human ear. 

Only Clark could be aware– as even without his explicit focus, he seemed to be eternally aware of Lois– of the way her breath hitched slightly in her throat and her heart quite literally skipped a beat.

He quickly turned his gaze to her, and though her face didn’t shift even a fraction, he knew he’d hurt her feelings. 

“You’re gonna find out that Clark’s charm is an acquired taste,” she shot back immediately, not breaking his gaze, “much like his sense of fashion.”

Clark swallowed thickly, knowing she’d likely interpret his regretful frown as annoyance at her jab rather than his guilt for putting her down in comparison to her sister, even if he meant it in good fun. 

He didn’t think it was any different from how they usually teased each other, but perhaps there was something between the sisters he simply wasn’t privy to.

“Don’t let all that flirting get to your head,” Lois snarked at him as he grinned at her from ear to ear– elated at Lucy’s apparent admiration, at the way it stroked at his ego, sure, but mostly at the look of absolute annoyance that crept over Lois’s face.

It was fascinating to see someone get to her so quickly with only a few words. He’d made a sport out of trying to find the way to make that sharp look come across Lois’s face, at the risk of flushing and bumbling like an idiot when she lashed at him with her sharp tongue.

He stared down at the way she tightly gripped his forearm, physically pulling him away from her sister, and all he could do was allow her to move him to her will. What was he supposed to do– not let Lois manhandle him?

“She goes to an all-girls school. You’re probably the first guy she’s talked to in a couple of months,” she let go of his arm then, yet he followed half a step behind her, eyes drinking in her expression.

“Lois, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea,” he started, stopping when he heard her scoff and narrow her eyes as she rounded back to him. Nevertheless, he was a being from another planet with abilities and thus he bravely persevered, “but ever since Lucy came to town, you’ve been grumpier than normal,” and when she didn’t immediately deny it, he finally asked, “are you not happy to see your sister?”

He couldn’t understand the sentiment, if that’s what she really felt. 

He’d felt so alone for so long, always needing someone to understand him– not the way his parents loved and accepted him unconditionally– but in a manner that was somehow deeper and altogether different. He yearned for love with a partner, sure, but he also sought a camaraderie that he figured could only be shared amongst siblings that shared paralleling experiences in each other's general vicinity.

He yearned for that kind of kinship. He thought maybe Pete could be that for him until Pete decided to look out for his safety– as was only right and proper, of course– but then he thought he could maybe one day reach that level with Lex, though that was more wishful thinking than anything.

Chloe, as much as he loved and appreciated her, didn’t yet know about who he was and was the most likely to see him differently as yet another one of her meteor freaks. Not to mention her… feelings for him that would unfortunately not place them in the category of kinship that he meant.

So for the life of him, he couldn’t understand what Lois’s problem was with her sister, when Lucy had been nothing but gentle and kind to everyone around her– the complete opposite of Lois herself. Was she perhaps… jealous of her own sister?

Did that mean she-? Because of... him?

“Of course I am,” Lois scoffed, and he almost blanched as if she’d answered his thoughts. How ridiculous, “Look, there’s a thing with sisters,” she began earnestly, “you can love them without really liking them.”

That confirmed his suspicions of jealousy, though the thought made him incredibly sad.

“You don’t like your own sister?”

He saw a quick flash of incredulity cross her features before she settled on trepidation, as if trying to figure out how to phrase her words, “more like she’s not very crazy about me,” she dropped her gaze from his and raised a shoulder, “not that I blame her.”

He couldn’t really believe her. Lois could be a hard-ass, sure, but he’d witnessed firsthand how far she went to find Chloe, and knew without a doubt that she would do the same for her sister.

Still, the thought of waxing poetic about the might of her loyalty made something curdle inside him so instead he averted his gaze and stepped around her, croaking out “look, you might be a little rough around the edges, but as far as sisters go, Lucy could do a lot worse.” He tried not to overthink his words as he picked up the first thing he saw at the table, pretending to inspect it before turning back to her, continuing past her as she scowled at him.

“Uh thanks for the ringing endorsement,” she shot back half-heartedly but much to his relief didn’t actually sound offended, hesitating for a second before following him. “When my mother died, my dad had two girls he didn’t know how to deal with, so he did what every good military leader would do,” she inhaled sharply, “he instituted a chain of command, and I reported to him and-”

“Lucy reported to you,” he finished.

He watched her closely as she opened up to him, describing in a few broad strokes how she had essentially become a mother at ten years old as if being forced to carry on the emotional and physical labors of a responsibility that didn’t correspond to her was absolutely no biggie at all.

“Is that why she decided to go to boarding school?” he asked, assuming Lucy sought distance from Lois as her keeper. His heart went out to both of them– Lois who was forced to raise her younger sister and miss out on a chance to know her as a partner in crime rather than the precious cargo, and Lucy for being the one being raised by a bossy and only occasionally advantageous Lois. If she bossed him around, he didn’t want to know how she dictated Lucy.

Her response was much worse, however, as the revelation that the general would strip either of them from that decision– creating a physical distance between them, for the alleged benefit of the youngest, and a cruel reflection of the older sister’s mistakes.

It was manipulative and harsh and although he only used the latter descriptor, he let Lois know.

Her reply tugged at a couple strings, “oh, trust me: Lucy got the better end of the deal. I mean, don’t get me wrong, she totally deserved it,” she nodded earnestly, shrugging almost… bashfully. “But I-I guess there was just a part of me that was always jealous she got out and I didn’t.”

Clark mulled over her words as they fell away softly, considering how hard it must’ve been for her to grow up with such instability and responsibility over her shoulders. So much, that somehow the isolation of living in an all-girls school in Europe, was more promising than living alongside her father.

Seeming to only just become aware at her show of vulnerability, Lois’s bright hazel eyes widened in bewilderment before she blinked quickly and rushed out to go to work.

As he watched her leave, he suddenly recalled the way her heart had skipped a beat when he’d carelessly asked what had gone wrong with her in comparison to all of Lucy’s achievements. He had regretfully realized he’d hurt her feelings then, but the words seemed more callous now with the knowledge of their upbringing.

Lois would always be compared to Lucy and would never come up the better, and Clark had only emphasized the fact.

He couldn’t exactly apologize to her without revealing how he knew, so he spent the rest of the afternoon pondering what he could do to make it up to her somehow.

He also made a vow to never use her sister against her. He could deal with an angry Lois. An annoyed and annoying one, he could deal with the silent treatments and the thirty-minute long lectures, but he could not deal with a sad Lois. Of that, he was absolutely certain of.

“Don’t worry about it. We’ve been in far worse trouble than this,” Lois’s casual, almost bored tone, brought him a wave of relief, the pressure in his chest at the panic of seeing her gone only finally easing for a millimeter at the acknowledgment that despite her fast beating heart, that revealed her fear and adrenaline, she was– at the very least– unhurt enough to still be putting up appearances.

Not an appearance, a voice that sounded much like his own but was softer, echoed from a deep reaches of his mind, she really is that brave.

Whatever. He didn't give it another thought before he braced himself, not second guessing a single thing before he ran and launched himself at the fast moving eighteen wheeler, for a moment almost believing he was flying.

But no faster did the thought come to him than the panic caused him to drop from the sky and belly flop onto the large semi-truck trailer, barely acknowledging the impact before he stood, relieved that he had finally reached Lois and would save her from harm's way.

Chapter Text

His mother was acting strange.

Now, his mother was never the type to overindulge in alcohol often, only occasionally having a glass of red wine during the Golden Age Hollywood movie nights they had, most of them consisting of his father smiling warmly at his mother as she mouthed along the lines, having seen them thousands of times before.

Still, even in the few times he’d seen her tipsy, she’d never seen her jumping up and down in the kitchen the way she was, uncaring at having been caught, and what’s more– she was acting like the thought of prepping and cooking dinner hadn’t even crossed her mind?

“Are you feeling okay?” he tried.

“I’m fine,” she replied quickly, wiping ice cream from her mouth before using her index finger to pull her finger behind her ear in a way that was entirely unlike her, “I wanted to ask you, do you have a date for the prom yet?”

He stared at her, deadpanned, “mom, I told you I’m not going to the prom.”

“What?!” she practically yelled in his face, “you have to go!”

Her strong reaction surprised him. He’d seen the sliver of disappointment that had crossed her face the first time he told her, but she had only encouraged him to rethink his decision in her usual calm manner. Something about her sudden outburst– alcohol induced or not– elicited from him an honest response.

“Well, I-I…” how can he phrase this, “kinda wanted to go with Lana, but-”

“Lana Lang?” she rolled her eyes and scoffed, “You can’t be serious. You two are so last year.” Somehow.. his brain seemed to have switched off? “Clark, your prom is the most memorable night of your life,” she scolded him as if anything to top off the revelation that he was an honest-to-God alien. “I am not going to let you miss it.” She declared and suddenly her face shifted in certainty, “you can take me.”

He confusedly reminded her she was already attending the prom as a chaperone alongside his father only to receive an eyeroll as powerful as the sun, and he realized then, why it was so annoying when he did it to her in the early days of his teenage angst.

Suddenly, their strange exchange was interrupted by Lois’s loud sneezes and accompanying commentary on her ongoing theory that Shelby was actually a creature sent from another planet to protect Clark and his ilk and make her sneeze until her death.

He hid an amused smile as she assured them that the dog knew of her allergies and was intent on torturing her, when his mother’s voice snapped him away from staring at Lois’s midriff, exposed by the low-rise jeans and the light blue shirt that complimented her skin tone nicely.

“So this is your little secret,” his mother scoffed, and for a moment he had the irrational fear that she could read his thoughts and know. “You’re taking her to the prom, aren’t you?”

The thought was so ridiculous, he didn’t hesitate to guffaw a loud “Lois?” before glancing at her to gauge her reaction, which unsurprisingly only matched his.

“Mrs. Kent, a lot of things are possible in this world but there will be a man on Mars before Clark and I go to a prom together,” Lois assured her in a tone that brokered no nonsense.

As soon as the mirth invaded his body, it was gone, for his own laughter came from a place of bewilderment and incredulity at the thought of Lois ever being interested in a farm boy like him, or of him even having the stones to confidently ask her and get a favorable response, but Lois’s amusement and words only confirmed it. 

And for some reason, the thought of her finding the thought of being with him ridiculous and impossible wasn’t as funny anymore.

Being together at the prom, of course.

He told himself the pang in his chest that echoed with disappointment and hurt was just the result of a bruised ego. 

“So, what, you two just get together and mack but keep it on the down low in public?”

Several emotions erupted in Clark as he scolded her with a sharp “mom!”

The first emotion was the shock of her even being capable of putting such a… well, such a sentence together (and from that thought stemmed the idea that perhaps she’d been spending too much time with Lois). The next emotion that caused a bright flush to creep up his neck and wrap around his ears, was the embarrassment at her exposure of the… the undeniable thing between him and Lois.

It wasn’t that they were, well macking, or whatever, but he had certainly thought about it in the dubious hours of the morning as he fell into a place between sleep and the awareness of arousal. But… there was no fucking way he could be that obvious. Right?

“I don’t mean to be rude Mrs. Kent but uh- did you crack open the cooking sherry?” Lois went straight to the point, obviously not comfortable with the way his mother was steering the conversation, which made it all the more mortifying.

For the second time that day Clark found himself explaining to his mother why he really wasn’t going to prom. Describing the scene he’d envisioned all those years ago– of having the honor to finally take Lana to prom and fulfill that wish was all he could dream of.

When Lana– possessed by Dawn– had asked him to go to prom with her, he’d felt elated, feeling like he’d finally gotten something right. That things were going as they should be. He’d always been in love with Lana, and he knew of course that the night would never lead anywhere more intimate as she was still with Jason, but she was also dating Whitney when she’d promised him a dance, so it had to be. If not then, then the moment was finally now.

Except, it hadn’t really been her, and now he didn’t know who Dawn was possessing or how to even stop her, so he figured the best thing he could do was stay behind and not risk getting possessed by the prom queen’s ghost.

But then his mother said something that caught him off guard.

“Oh Clark,” his mom shook her head at him regretfully, “things don’t always end up the way you picture them, but sometimes they can end up even better if you take a chance.” Then her eyes glanced up the stairs, before she purposely averted her gaze away from him, “if you change your mind, I put your tux by your door.”

And then she gave him a little mischievous smile that looked much too similar to the way she’d looked when possessed by Dawn.

“You rented me a tux?” he scoffed, unsure whether to be annoyed that she’d get him one after he’d very pointedly told her he wasn’t going, or touched by her consideration. Of course, it wasn’t much of a question, as warmth bloomed in his chest at his mother’s kindness.

Once she’d given him a final hug and left, he stood in place for a second, thinking about his mother’s words.

Martha Kent had never, not once, given him any reason to think she disliked Lana. His mother had always been as kind and welcoming to Lana as she was with everyone else. 

But that was just the thing: his mother treated Lana just like everyone else, even while knowing how much she meant to Clark.

Truthfully, a had it been his early years of high school, Clark would’ve been embarrassed if his mother intervened with embarrassing stories of Clark during his blooming relationship with Lana, but as he’d grown close to Lana, he noticed his mother was still… indifferent to her.

She’d never outwardly discouraged him from pursuing Lana, but she also never encouraged his affection for her.

Sometimes things can end up better if you take a chance.

The words echoed in his mind.

How could anything be better than going to prom with Lana?

“Well?”

A familiar voice broke him from his reverie, and when he turned, he found nothing could prepare him for the sight of Lois standing in the middle of the stair’s landing, looking like a revelation.

He knew Lois was beautiful, that was an unquestionable and entirely objective fact– Lois Lane was a beautiful woman, but the being standing before him in a bright raspberry dress looked like-like…

Clark was a decent writer but he was no poet. All he knew at that very moment was: wow.

He swallowed thickly, unable or perhaps unwilling, to speak lest his voice broke.

“How do I look?” she prodded, pushing a strand of hair with a single finger behind her ear.

The motion was somewhat familiar, yet amidst his desperate search for any words in the English language that went beyond the echoing and all-consuming “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, wow,” he couldn’t quite recall how to speak.

He tried swallowing once in his increasingly dry throat, “um- it looks like you’re going to the prom,” he barely managed, voice softer than usual in a desperate attempt to try to cover its shakiness.

“I am,” she assured him, talking down the rest of the way and stepping towards him.

He inhaled sharply and couldn’t help himself– in the same way he could see in between nanoseconds as he ran after bullets and challenged himself to finish his chores while still indulging in the rest of his picoseconds– he drank her in.

It was a power greater than his own that made him take her in as she went to take her first step down the landing, to admire her hair, elegantly wrapped up to reveal her dangling earrings and her long beautiful neck. He gave himself a second to observe the curve of her collarbones and the round shape of her shoulders. He wasn’t a complete pervert and wouldn’t go so far as to stare at her breasts, but Clark was still a man and so sure, he glimpsed at her cleavage before following his gaze further down to follow the curve of her waist and hips, all the way down her long legs.

And then she made it to the bottom of the stairs and began to saunter towards him and the image brought an entirely different memory to his mind. A memory of freshman year after seeing Lana dance with Whitney– fantasizing in his loft that she followed after him with the excuse that she’d promised him a dance. In that fantasy, Lana had worn a pink gown of her own, albeit much lighter in shade and not nearly anywhere as sexy as Lois’s-

“And you’re taking me!” Lois ordered in a tone that left no room for discussion. Before he could answer, not knowing if he should even bother arguing or if he even wanted to, she continued, “I’m not gonna let you sit around moping all night while your parents go out and do the electric Bugaloo,” she inhaled sharply, eyes locked on his, “it’s gonna be fun,” she assured, although it sounded like a demand once again.

Underneath his vexation at her assumption that she could order him around and he would do her bidding, there was a part of him that softened at Lois’s words. She had no reason to go to prom, didn’t even know anyone there other than Chloe and those two practically lived together with how often Lois stayed at her place, so it wasn’t for anyone other than… him.

Despite knowing she went out and got herself a dress last minute only because she took pity on him and didn’t want him to miss out on a silly human tradition, it warmed his heart that Lois would do that for him.

Still, he couldn’t fold so easily.

“No, I-I I’m not going,” he clenched his jaw and shook his head lightly. Nice one, Kent, he chastised himself. He was strong– stronger than any being (that he knew of yet, anyway) on Earth. He could hold out. 

“Massive re-strategy,” Lois argued, and he knew there that his Kryptonian power was nothing against the force of her determined and mischief-filled hazel eyes, “you’re going to your prom whether you like it or not. End of discussion,” she smacked her lips, “go put on your tux.”

“Wa-” he scoffed because he couldn’t quite wrap his head around it. Just earlier today she’d laughed at the idea of going to prom with him and now she was ordering him to put on his tux while she looked like– while she looked like that? “Lois, wasn’t this not in the realm of possibilities?” 

He just had to make sure she really was okay with this and didn’t just force herself to do this for his sake. 

But Lois only smiled at him sweetly, “anything’s possible, Clark.”

His mom’s words from earlier came back to him. No, things were certainly not going as he had expected but perhaps taking Lois to prom– getting a picture or two taken with her and the rest of his friends– and maybe, if she hadn’t totally ditched him by then to stray off with Chloe, he could catch a dance with her, and maybe that wouldn’t be all that bad. 

Maybe, if his mom was to be believed, it could be better than he thought.

Lois was acting strangely… bubbly.

The entire ride to school, she had gushed about how good she looked, how good he looked (although the way she said it was less complimentary and more like he was an accessory she needed attached to her like her fuzzy pink little purse), and about how good they would look walking into the prom together.

She rambled on about prom things he hadn't expected her to know or much less cared about, but figured it had to be Chloe’s annoyance with the whole thing getting to her. Still, once they made it inside the school gym, she refused to leave his side, much too excited over the crooning singer that sounded nothing like her own preference of power ballads.

Something about how nice she was seemed off, and though the answer that revealed itself to him not a minute later was right before his eyes, he didn’t realize why her niceness was bothering him until he made a barb about the color of her dress, subconsciously attempting to start bantering with her, only to have her frown at him and go on a tangent about her struggle to find it in the first place.

Something was definitely up with Lois, but it wasn’t until she hugged Chloe and then turned to him with a confused and angry expression— the register of her voice dropping to a level that was more familiar and natural to hiss out, “what the hell am I doing in a dress? And what the hell am I doing at your prom?”— that he realized he had seriously miscalculated how far Lois’s generosity went.

“You’re gonna have to face her at some point, son. Might as well do it now,” his father advised as he approached him from behind, wincing slightly still from the aftermath of Dawn’s attack.

Clark considered pretending he didn’t know what he was talking about, but dropped the idea and instead inhaled heavily though his nose and nodded his head, tipping back the rest of his blue punch before stomping his way over to where Lois leaned against a table on the edge of the room.

She looked out of place here, but he’d always thought that she did in the rare instances he’s seen her walk through Smallville High.

Lois Lane was too big for a town so small.

He approached her slowly, part of him hoping she’d see him and just give it to him already, just so he could get it over with.

The other part of him was truly embarrassed and guilty that she’d gone to his prom against her will– mortified of what she would think of him now. Hadn’t she made it clear she’d never in her actual conscious mind agree to go to prom with him? Something about a man on Mars and whatnot?

Alas, he had to face her at some point. “Listen, Lois–”

“Your parents filled me in,” Lois interrupted him, nodding in a way that was almost… reassuring. “Apparently some girl named Dawn was possessing me?”

“Yeah well that’s the short version,” he averted his eyes for a moment, unsure whether to tell her of the way she– or Dawn– had pulled her corset slightly away from her breast as she helped him put on her corsage, giggling at him after scaring the daylights out of him when she jumped in place and yelped in pain, acting like he'd prodded her with the pin despite him knowing there was no way, as she looking up at him, with eyes that were so mischievous and so Lois that he hadn’t considered for a moment that it wasn’t really her.

“Yeah, well, that’s the last time I’ll ever let her do my hair,” Lois brushed it off, in her typical manner.

“Look, I’m sorry you got pulled into all this,” he finally said sincerely.

“Don’t worry about it,” she assured him, “I never quite made it to my senior prom,” taking a sip of her punch, she assured him he didn't want her to get into specifics.

That comment sparked an idea. Admittedly, he’d thought about it briefly when she came down the stairs looking like that, but hadn’t really considered doing it.

When he didn’t reply she quickly added, “the punch could use a little kick.”

Her attempt to ease the growing tension missed the mark, especially when the band smoothly transitioned into a soft ballad.

He observed her from the corner of his eye as they fell into silence, rocking slightly back and form on his heel, his mind battling all the reasons why he shouldn’t do it.

It would be awkward.

She could say no. She would most likely laugh in his face and say no— not because she wanted to humiliate him, but because the thought would be absolutely ridiculous to her.

And what if– what if he held her as they danced and he liked the way she felt in his arms? He’d been in situations when he’d had to touch her before, of course, having saved her a few times and whatnot, but he’d never – he’d never held her before.

But things didn’t always go as planned, his mother had said, and sometimes they can end up better if you take a chance.

“You know, I was thinking… since you did get all dressed up and you came here with me..” he tried not to gloat at the last part, shrugging a shoulder and leaving the words linger for her to catch and maybe take away from him, but Lois merely looked at him expectantly. “You should at least get a dance out of it,” he finished lamely, and almost facepalmed at his own stupidity.

“Chivalry noted,” she quipped, “but uh- I’m not the one you wanna dance with, Clark.” 

He almost laughed at her, because well, she wasn’t wearing something Lois herself would likely pick but the fact was that Dawn had done a great job and if Lois had seen herself in a mirror in the last twenty minutes then she would know that she was the most beautiful girl in the room, and although Clark wasn’t expecting her to accept and actually dance with him, she didn’t need to deflect.

Except when he followed her gaze, and she pointed out, “she is,” he saw Lana standing at the entrance of the gym and he knew that Lois knew him better than he thought. Better than he knew himself, maybe.

Perhaps this was an occasion when his mother wasn’t in the right. He’d given himself a chance to be better, and it was only then that he realized he could finally accomplish the things that could’ve been. He wasn’t ready then, but maybe he was now.

Chapter Text

There was no greater relief than finding out he wasn’t related to the beautiful woman standing in the middle (of what the blonde girl said) was his kitchen. 

He hadn’t quite put together why she lived with him and his parents when there was nothing… of that nature going on between them. He didn't understand why she didn’t know about his abilities, yet her cousin, who was apparently his best friend but didn't live with him, did know about him.

Everything was just very confusing.

Especially considering that the woman— who had very pretty hazel eyes— seemed to be just as open minded and accepting as her cousin, if perhaps a little impertinent. But a little sass never hurt anyone, right? And what's more, he kind of liked it, if he was being honest. And hadn’t she claimed she even had experience with him losing his memory? Something about him being naked? So why not trust her?

Chloe’s confession that she knew about his powers without him knowing that she knew, would’ve likely been more upsetting if he knew anything about his life, and yet, he could only feel grateful for the small blonde.

Still, it wasn’t the same to know the details of his life, without truly remembering them or the explanations as to why they happened.

The frustration and helplessness of his situation only grew throughout the day as he dealt with people either giving him pitying looks or trying to prod at his memory.

The only person that didn’t do so was the beautiful and loud stranger living in his house. She was the only one who didn’t encourage him to strain his mind to remember, but to depend on his instinct to guide him 

Taking her advice to heart, his attempt to tease her– pretending he didn’t like her– proved to be just the right thing to say, alongside his actions that led to the recovery of his memory and the redemption of a young man who’d been used and controlled by his own father.

After everything had been resolved, however, Clark didn’t recall anything from his time without his memory. 

Still, the advice Lois gave him rang true and rang loud in his mind from thereafter— alongside that intrinsic knowledge that she understood him better than anyone— though he could never pinpoint the exact memory.

Chapter Text

He’d spent four years anticipating this day. 

Four years of discovering himself, who he was and where he really came from, four years yearning after the life that others had– Whitney for his recognition as a real American hero, and capturing the heart of the girl with whom Clark had been obsessing over since he was seven years old, and other like Lex for the grandeur of his life. 

He often even envied Chloe and Pete for the simplicity of their humanity that they often overlooked.

He’d spent four years yearning for his graduation day, so he could finally set off and explore the world before coming back home to settle at the farm, and possibly one day, finally getting to where he wanted to be with Lana.

His Graduation ceremony and everything it implied became irrelevant the second the meteors broke through the atmosphere and headed straight for Smallville.

Fear gripped him as he saw images of his destroyed home on the news near the Arctic, and no sooner had Chloe encouraged him to go home from her spot on the hospital bed, than he blazed across the country to his house, barely remembering what he said to Lex, deciding to deal with at a later time, and ran to the hospital, buzzing with anxious flurry.

Relief settled over his shoulders for the first time that day since they called his name on stage for his diploma– though the memory of it seemed like ages ago rather than a few mere hour– at the sight of Lois arguing with someone on the phone.

“Lois,” he called out as he approached her, quickly scanning her to make sure she wasn’t hurt.

She turned around quickly, breathing out his name in relief as she gravitated towards him, throwing her arms around his neck, “you okay?” she asked in his ear, always worried about him, yet as he wrapped his arms around her, he felt her trembling.

A passing thought crossed his mind, about that being the first time he’d held Lois in a hug, yet the thought, much like the hug itself, was too brief to linger on.

“Yeah, you?” he pulled away to check her over one more time, knowing Lois Lane required more than a meteor shower to truly shake her up.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she assured him quickly, but he didn’t miss the way she grazed her throat with her fingers.

He tried to temper his growing nervousness and failed, “have you seen my parents?”

“They’re gonna be fine,” she assured him with placating arms.

“Where are they?” He quickly walked around her, not liking the implication they weren’t fine now.

She cleared her throat heavily as she followed him, “actually, um- we have another problem. Kind of a big problem, really” she voiced just as he saw the cloud of smoke dispersing from further down the hallway, the mess and scrambling staff and patients alike showing him something else had happened aside from the meteor shower.

“A happy loving couple came through here with superpowers and um, a really bad attitude,” she went on to explain they were looking for a "Kal-El," and although the information didn't come as a complete surprise, what did catch him off guard was the way it made him feel when his birth name left her lips.

The revelation that he made to his parents– which was only met with the expected concern, worry, and fear that he no longer had his powers– loomed over their heads as they began to clean the wreckage of the house. 

They couldn’t understand his elation. Couldn’t begin to understand the possibilities that opened to him now that he didn’t have to carry such a huge responsibility, but Clark knew better than to try to convince them all at once that he would do well as a full human. 

Could be better, even, as he didn’t have to constantly lie to the people that surrounded him.

They wouldn’t understand that he could finally be with Lana without any secrets between them– that is, if she actually loved him– and well, ultimately, that’s what he really wanted.

To have a partner with which he could share what his parents themselves shared.

But it seemed the only thing that could lift his parent’s mood was the mention of Lois, whose belongings were already gone, although not as the aftermath of the meteor that rocked through their house.

His father immediately began to relate to Clark how Lois had braved through the wreckage, calling out their names and rushing to pull heavy furniture and wooden planks out of the way in search of Martha, once she'd made sure Jonathan was okay and Clark wasn't under the rubble. She had been a wonder, he told him, and their only saving grace in a moment when he didn’t know where Clark was. In a moment when he thought he was alone and all was lost.

To add the cherry on top, his mother followed with her own story about how Lois hadn’t hesitated to pay no heed to her warnings as she ran after his father, to face the alien strangers that had arrived in search for him. His father had lost consciousness when he was tossed to the side by one of them, but his mother had watched from her hospital bed— incapacitated by a broken leg— as Lois had gone head to head with the female before being strangled mid-air single-handedly.

Therefore when he arrived at the hospital later in the day, donning flowers for Lana, he didn’t put up much of a fight when Lois snatched them out of his hands. 

Had he known she was still in Smallville, he actually might’ve gotten her some as well, as a way to show his gratitude for looking after his parents and defending them so ardently.

With Lana so present in his mind, he didn’t consider, until later that night– and admittedly, a few scattered nights after that– that he would’ve liked to say a bit more to her before she left Smallville.

He would’ve bade her well on her time in Europe and good luck on finding her sister. Would’ve reminded her to email him whenever she got a chance, so they wouldn’t lose touch. Would’ve teased her for taking her favorite flannel of his, and leaving behind a small little stuffed animal no bigger than the size of his palm, the thing so old and beaten he couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be a kitten or a mouse.

He would’ve told her that he’d miss her…if only a little bit, he thought, but went to sleep knowing he wouldn’t have really said it. He wouldn't have had the courage to say it and not hear it back.