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and you can't fight the tears that ain't coming

Summary:

but then he heard her voice.

it was reeling, garbled between radio signals and thousands of heartbeats, but he knew it instantly, and could pick it out from a thousand miles away. the thin crack of panic in her words sliced through him like hot wire.

Notes:

i've been wanting to write something like this eversince i saw the movie, so my brain finally worked and got me to focus on doing so!

Work Text:

He heard her scream before he saw the smoke.

The world had been a blur the moment the day began–rescues stacking up like dominoes from early morning to noon, from Greece to Belgium, from an oil spill near Jersey to a five car pileup in Nevada. His muscles ached with the familiar exhaustion of near constant flight, the cityscapes and ocean waters and endless blue of the sky spinning around him in a ceaseless carousel.

But then he heard her voice.

It was reeling, garbled between radio signals and thousands of heartbeats, but he knew it instantly, and could pick it out from a thousand miles away. The thin crack of panic in her words sliced through him like hot wire.

“Clark,” she gasped, static crackling against her scream. “Clark–please!”

He didn’t remember flying there. One moment he was above the Pacific, and the next he was tearing through Metropolis’ airspace so fast windows rattled in his wake. His chest burned with the speed, his lungs seared raw from the altitude drop, but he didn’t care. Nothing mattered except getting to her.

Because in that split second, everything else fell away–the rescues, the duty, the noise of the world clamouring for Superman’s help. All of it became a dull roar swallowed by the deafening panic tearing through his chest.

Get to her get to her get to her–

The building was already collapsing when he arrived.

Black smoke coiled into the bruised sky, licked with orange flame. Sirens wailed from all corners of the street as firefighters yelled orders, pedestrians screamed and scattered. And there, trapped behind a steel beam that had fallen from the second floor, was Lois.

She was coughing violently, her face streaked with soot, her eyes red and streaming from the smoke. Blood trickled down from her temple where a chunk of ceiling had grazed her. But she was conscious, and thankfully she was alive.

But she was also terrified.

“Lois!” he shouted, landing so hard the pavement cracked beneath his boots. Dust and ash billowed around him, cloaking him in white and grey. “Lois, I’m right here–”

“Clark–” Her voice broke, ragged with pain. “It’s my leg–it’s pinned, I can’t–”

His vision blurred with tears. The sight of her – her body trapped under steel and debris, eyes wide with pain and panic, tears streaking soot down her cheeks – it ripped through him like a blade. He forced himself forward, using his heat vision to slice cleanly through the steel beam pinning her down. He lifted it with trembling hands and tossed it aside like cardboard. She gasped as the weight lifted, clutching at her thigh where her jeans were torn and blood seeped out in quick, dark pulses.

Don’t panic don’t panic don’t panic…

“Shh, it’s okay,” he whispered, gathering her into his arms. “I’ve got you, Lois, I’ve got you–”

But even as he cradled her, his mind spun wildly with worst-case scenarios: internal bleeding, head trauma, fractures she might never fully recover from. He pressed his forehead against hers for one trembling second, grounding himself in her shallow, ragged breaths.

The ceiling above them groaned ominously. The wall behind them shuddered, spiderweb cracks splintering outward with each vibration. The fire snapped and roared, devouring the structure like a living thing.

“Hold onto me,” he said, voice shaking with panic. “Hold on tight.”

She fisted her hands in his suit, her fingers trembling. “I’ve got you,” she whispered back, her voice thin and broken. “I always… I’ve got you.”

He shot upwards, tearing through the wreckage just as the roof collapsed. The roar of crumbling steel and shattering concrete thundered behind them, echoing up into the smoky sky. He shielded her body with his own, curling around her protectively as he flew them clear of the wreckage.

They landed in the middle of the street, emergency crews rushing forward instantly. EMTs, firefighters, police. People were screaming her name. Her colleagues from the Planet, Jimmy and Steve and Cat, running towards them through the chaos.

But Clark didn’t let her go.

He knelt on the cracked asphalt, cradling her against his chest as tears streamed down his face. His entire body shook with the force of his sobs, silent and wracking, his shoulders heaving as he pressed his forehead against hers.

“Clark,” she whispered weakly, her hand coming up to cup his cheek. Her thumb brushed away his tears, streaking soot and blood across his skin. “Clark… It's okay. I’m okay.”

He couldn’t speak, and he couldn’t breathe. He could only clutch her tighter, burying his face against her hair, inhaling the scent of smoke and ash and Lois. The world roared around them–sirens, cries, shouts, and static radios. But all he heard was her pulse fluttering weakly against his chest. All he felt was her trembling breath ghosting against his neck.

“I can’t–” His voice broke, raw and hoarse. “I can’t–Lois, I can’t lose you.”

She blinked up at him, eyes glistening with tears. “You won’t,” she whispered, brushing his cheek again. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I can’t–” His chest heaved. “I can’t do this without you. I can’t..I can’t live in a world where you’re not in it.”

And he meant it. Every ragged and trembling word. Because what was the point of saving the world if she wasn’t there to see it with him? What was the point of flying, of fighting, of living–if he couldn’t share that life with her?

She smiled faintly, wincing as pain jolted up her leg. “Well… good thing I’m not planning on leaving it any time soon, Smallville.”

A broken laugh escaped his throat, tears still streaming down his face as he pressed kiss after kiss to her forehead, her cheeks, her eyelids. His hands cupped her face so gently, thumbs trembling as he traced soot-streaked skin.

“Don’t ever do that again,” he whispered fiercely. “Don’t ever scare me like that again. I–God, Lois, I thought I lost you.”

Her lips curved into a ghost of a smile. “You’ll never lose me,” she whispered, her voice fading as the pain overwhelmed her. “Not… not as long as I can… keep annoying you.”

“Lois–”

Her eyes fluttered closed, and her body was sagging limp against him. The EMTs rushed forward, prying her gently from his arms as he let out a ragged, broken sob that echoed down the street like thunder. His hands trembled as he reached for her again, desperate to keep touching her, to keep feeling the heat of her skin beneath his fingertips.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice cracking as he turned to the medics. “Please… please save her.”

“She’s stable,” one of them reassured him quickly. “We’ve got her. We’ll take her to Met Gen right now.”

He stood there numbly as they loaded her onto a stretcher and into the ambulance, the sirens wailing as they sped away. Dust and ash swirled around him in the hot breeze, clinging to his suit, his hair, his skin. He felt… hollow….and just….empty. Like the world had dropped out from beneath his feet and left him plummeting into darkness.

He didn’t realise Jimmy was beside him until a hand landed on his shoulder.

“Hey man, you okay?”

Clark turned, blinking at the young photographer through tear blurred eyes. Jimmy’s own gaze was wide with worry and fear.

“She’ll be okay,” Jimmy said softly, squeezing his shoulder. “Lois… she’s strong. Strongest person I know.” Clark swallowed hard at Jimmy’s words, forcing himself to nod. “Yeah,” he rasped. “Yeah, she is.”

But as he lifted off into the sky, racing towards the hospital to be by her side, one thought kept repeating over and over in his mind like a jagged mantra:

I can’t lose her. I can’t lose her. I can’t lose her.

***

Clark sat hunched forward in the hard plastic chair outside her room, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together so tightly his knuckles burned white.

He was dressed in a soft blue flannel, sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, and his glasses perched crookedly on his nose. Soot still smudged his skin, streaking his jaw and neck, the faint smell of ash and smoke clinging stubbornly to his clothes. He hadn’t bothered to change much from when he’d flown her here–hadn’t even thought to. Superman wasn’t the one waiting outside that room tonight, this was Clark. Just Clark. The farm boy who fell in love with the fierce young woman from Metropolis, the man who would give every ounce of his strength if it meant she’d wake up and smile at him again.

He had not moved in two hours.

The nurses passed by with pitying glances, recognising the broad-shouldered man with the haunted eyes as Clark Kent, Lois Lane’s partner. Some of them, who knew better, understood that he may have been the cape-donning hero, though nothing about him looked invincible now. He barely cared or even noticed them, his gaze stayed locked on the small window in the door before him, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest beneath thin hospital blankets.

His super hearing thrummed with the beat of her heart. Each rhythmic thump soothed him, but only barely. He still felt like his own heart had been torn from his chest and left dangling by a fragile thread, every beat it managed wracked with agony.

The doctor’s words replayed in his head on a relentless loop:

“Her leg was fractured, some internal bruising, a mild concussion, minor blood loss. She’s stable. She’ll be okay.”

She’ll be okay.

Clark kept repeating it to himself, each time clinging harder to the words like a drowning man to driftwood. But his chest still felt cracked open. His lungs burned with every ragged inhale. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes and he let them fall freely, leaving hot tracks down his soot-streaked face.

He didn’t care who saw him, and didn’t care what they thought of him being visibly in tears or completely broken. Because in that building, in that moment he heard her scream and saw rubble and smoke swallowing her alive–the world had ended.

It didn’t matter how many times he’d caught falling planes, stopped tsunamis, and torn meteors apart with his bare hands, none of it mattered if she wasn’t there to come home to.

He stood abruptly, the metal legs of the chair screeching against the linoleum. His shoes felt heavy as he approached the window again, leaning his forehead against the glass to watch her sleep. The bruising on her temple looked dark in the fluorescent light, stark against her pale skin, with an oxygen tube looped beneath her nose. IV lines were snaking from her arm, and machines beeped steadily around her like a mechanical lullaby.

She looked so small.

 

His Lois, who burned so brightly she often eclipsed the sun in his sky, was reduced now to a fragile human form tucked beneath hospital sheets. Clark closed his eyes, a sob catching in his throat as he pressed his hand flat against the glass.

 

Please , he whispered to himself, hoping something out there would hear his inner thoughts. Please don’t take her from me. Please.

The door clicked softly behind him. Clark turned, blinking back tears, as Martha Kent stepped forward. She was still in her work clothes, hair pinned back, flour streaking the hem of her sweater. Her eyes flicked to his face and immediately softened with worry.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she whispered, crossing the distance and wrapping her arms around his waist.

He collapsed into her embrace, burying his face against her hair like a child. She felt so small in his arms now, but somehow she always managed to make him feel safe. Her hands rubbed soothing circles into his back as his shoulders shook with silent sobs.

“I thought I lost her, Ma,” he choked out, voice raw and ragged. “I… I can’t… I don’t know what I’d do if–”

“Shh.” Her voice trembled but remained steady, anchored with a mother’s strength. “You didn’t lose her. She’s still here. She’s going to be okay.”

He clung to her like a lifeline, tears soaking her sweater as he shook his head helplessly. “But what if next time… what if I’m too late? What if–”

“Clark.” She pulled back, cupping his tear-streaked face in her warm, flour-dusted hands. Her eyes shone with tears. “Listen to me. You can’t live in ‘what ifs.’ Not with her, and not with anyone else. All you can do is love her with everything you have, every day you’re given.”

A choked sob escaped his chest. He nodded, unable to speak, blinking rapidly to clear his blurred vision as Martha pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Go to her,” she whispered softly. “She needs you when she wakes up.”

Clark turned back to the door, inhaling shakily as he reached for the handle. The world felt thick and heavy around him as he stepped inside, the scent of antiseptic and Lois hitting him like a freight train.

He then moved to her bedside silently, dragging the chair closer so he could sit and take her hand in his. Lois’s skin felt warm, her fingers curling faintly around his as he pressed his lips to her knuckles.

“Hey,” he whispered hoarsely, tears slipping down his face. “Hey, Lois… I’m here.”

She stirred lightly, her eyelids fluttering against pale cheeks. A small, pained sigh slipped from her lips and he clenched his eyes shut, swallowing back a sob at the sound.

“Come on, Lois,” he whispered brokenly, brushing her hair back from her forehead with trembling fingers. “Just open those eyes for me. Please.”

It took another hour before she finally blinked awake.

Clark felt every second pass like a blade across his skin. Each tick of the clock carved a deeper ache into his chest, and the fear gnawing at him with feral teeth. He sat there helpless, staring at her pale, bruised face, thinking of every moment they’d yet to live; those mornings curled together under sunlit sheets, late night stakeouts sharing coffee from one thermos, whispered promises in the quiet dark–and the thought of losing it all gutted him. Because loving Lois Lane wasn’t just loving a person, it was loving life itself. And without her, all the power in his veins, all the strength in his bones, felt useless against the vast, empty ache of a world without her in it.

He was dozing in the chair, her hand still clutched tightly in his, when her raspy voice pulled him back to consciousness.

“…Clark…?”

His eyes immediately snapped open. Relief flooded his chest so violently that it almost knocked the breath out of him. “Lois,” he breathed, scooting closer until his knees pressed against the metal bed rail. “Hey… hey, I’m here.”

She blinked up at him blearily, her lashes clumped with soot and tears. “You… you look awful,” she croaked, her lips twitching faintly despite the oxygen tube.

A choked laugh broke from his chest, hot tears slipping down his cheeks. “Yeah,” he whispered, brushing his thumb across her cheekbone. “You should see the other guy.”

Her brow creased faintly in confusion, then relaxed as she sighed. “The building… it… it collapsed–”

“Shh,” he whispered quickly, pressing his forehead to hers as tears fell freely. “Don’t think about that right now. You’re safe, and you’re okay.”

Lois shifted weakly, her hand lifting to brush his jaw with trembling fingers. Her eyes softened as they took in his tear streaked face, the anguish carved into every line of his features.

“Clark… hey… look at me.” She uttered, with a tear streaming down her face. He lifted his head, blinking down at her through his tears. Her eyes burned into his, fierce despite her exhaustion.

“I’m okay,” she whispered firmly, her voice shaking. “I’m okay. You saved me.”

A broken sob tore from Clark’s chest, and he pressed his lips to her fingers, clutching her hand in both of his as his shoulders shook with silent tears.

“I can’t lose you,” he choked out, his voice cracking. “Lois… I can’t… you’re… you’re everything to me. I don’t care about anything else. Not if you’re not here.”

Her lips curved into a tired, watery smile. “Good thing I’m too stubborn to die, huh?”

A ragged laugh escaped him. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers again as tears dripped onto her pillow.

“I love you,” he whispered brokenly, his voice trembling with the weight of it. “Oh God, Lois, I love you so much that it… it terrifies me.”

Her breath hitched softly, tears continuing to spill down her temples as she squeezed his hand weakly. “I love you too,” she whispered back, her voice cracking. “I always do.”

For a moment, silence wrapped around them like the softest shroud, broken only by their ragged breathing and the steady, fragile beep of her monitor. Clark closed his eyes against the storm of emotion raging within him, the gut deep fear that had hollowed him out, the desperate relief flooding him now, and a love so fierce it burned. He felt his heart pounding painfully in his chest, every beat screaming her name, as if the universe itself was reminding him that his existence was stitched irrevocably to hers–and it was his greatest power and his deepest, most devastating weakness all at once.

Neither of them spoke, and just breathed each other in, clung to each other like drowning survivors, tears mingling silently in the sterile white of the hospital room.

Until finally, Lois let out a small, shaky laugh. “Hey… Smallville…?”

“Yeah?” His voice was hoarse, raw from crying.

“When I get out of here…” She whispered, “you’re making me pancakes.”

A broken smile curved across his lips as a fresh wave of tears blurred his vision. He pressed a trembling kiss to her forehead.

“Anything you want,” Clark sighed against her skin. “Anything.”
 

He simply stayed there, breathing her in, with the fading scent of smoke still clinging to her hair, mingling with antiseptic and the warm, quiet scent that was just Lois. Clark’s tears slipped down onto her pillow as his heart thudded with an ache so profound it felt like breaking. He thought of how close he’d come to losing her forever, how the universe had teetered on a knife’s edge without her in it, and a sob caught in his throat as he realised once again, with bone deep certainty, that he would burn the skies and crumble mountains if it meant keeping her safe in his arms for just one more day.

Lois drifted back to sleep then, her breathing even and steady, her heart thudding against his super hearing in a soothing, sacred rhythm. Clark remained with her for the rest of the night,his chair pulled so close his head rested against her pillow, and his hand locked around hers.

Out in the horizon, the world kept turning, multiple steps walking on streets, and traffic humming, daybreak inching slowly towards another bustling life–but in that quiet room, time stilled. 

And as he watched the woman he loved more than life itself rest away, Clark knew with every ragged, beating piece of his heart that as long as she was here, breathing and alive and his, he could keep saving the world for another day.