Who: Clark Kent [
isitablurred] and Lois Lane [
presspasskey]
When: Night of the 7th, morning of the 8th
Where: Their apartment
Summary: Several threads collected herein; Clark and Lois fight Darkness incursion and make up, and also post-funeral, morning of the 8th. Last one I swear.
Warnings: Violence, mention of character death, bad language, kissing-and-making-up
(
When you're done will I lose control? )
Comments 18
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"I'm so glad you're okay. The pulse...whatever it was it came from this way. I lost control of my powers. It was just a blip."
He raised his hand to his own eyes; they were burned all around, painful to touch.
"Can we go inside? It's almost dark, and I don't want either of us out here when it comes down on us."
He couldn't know that inside was just as unsafe as outside. A simple window, time misplaced, watched that had stopped at the most crucial moment.
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She immediately looped an arm around his waist (or what she could of it--she never stopped being surprised how much mass he had, when she was this close to him) and did her best to take some of his weight.
"I'm fine, everything's gonna be fine, just-- just lean on me, okay?"
Her voice stayed steady, through an immense effort of will. The last thing he needed right now was to worry about her panicking.
She gently started leading him back towards the stairwell--hoping to god no one would notice, because there would be no decent explanation without endangering Clark's identity--there was only so much plausibility in 'Lois Lane taking in her superhero best friend when he somehow burned his eyes and can't see, and of course her boyfriend's at home why do you ask.'
"I'm just going to take this one stair at a time--you'll probably feel it, right? We'll go slow." Cool, calm--get him through this, that's all that matters. Keep him talking. "How'd you get hurt ( ... )
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"My legs are working just fine, Lois, it's just my eyes that aren't." His hand slid down to hers, finding it, closing firmly around it, and he looked up toward where he thought her eyes must be, wishing the initial burn would start to clear. The feeling was unnerving, and highly uncomfortable. Last time it had taken days.
When she led him downstairs, he did his best to listen to everything around them, to try to get some bearing that didn't involve her hand in his own. He could navigate the stairs - mostly - by the sounds her feet made on them, and as they reached the door to their appartment he could hear the buzz that the emergency light made above the fire exit just opposite.
Since Lois had been heading outside, the door wasn't locked, and just a moment later they were stepping into the relative safety of their apartment. Clark relaxed instantly.
"Nobody saw us?"
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Rubbing her eyes blearily, she made sure there wasn't any sign of the Darkness outside, then checked the main room cautiously. Sighing with relief, she opened the door completely and headed for the kitchen. The cats were fed, cold water was obtained--
Fuck it. It is too early for life.Barely two minutes later she had retrieved the plushy--it's ridiculous, of course, and makes her feel about twelve years old--but she doesn't have her favorite fuzzy pajamas here, and she needs some comfort. Besides, shirt or not, it's another thing to remind her of him. It's been a long month since they stopped being entirely civil to each other. At least now she could be comfortable while waiting for him to come home ( ... )
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In her undirected search for the source of that yummy, sugar-and-chocolate-rich scent, her hand finally found his arm. It took her a long moment, but eventually her brain managed the logical process of Thing--arm!--guy--big--really warm-- "Sm'llville?" she mumbled sleepily, twisting a little to peer at him.
(If the terror otherwise known as Maskie got kicked in the process, well, that was hardly Lois' fault, now was it?)
And then, after another moment, his presence registered more fully in her brain and she pushed herself onto an elbow, hazel eyes rather bleary and confused. Her tone of voice and her ever-informative face had a hundred different shades (I'm glad you're here, are you okay, how can I ( ... )
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Forget the cocoa, he'd be happy to doze right here.
Maskie, who'd been knocked from Lois' feet, considered the open lap as invitation himself, however, and got between the two of them, stretching instantly out over Clark's lap jealously.
"Maskie--" Admonishing, but he didn't knock the cat away, just looked at Lois apologetically.
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