Author's Note: A missing scene from Tomb. That's really all you need to know.
Tangles
"You could come stay with us for a while." Somehow the words just slip out. He tells himself he doesn't particularly like the idea of her barging into his life again, but her apartment is now crawling with police, and she hasn't stopped shivering despite the fierce look in her eyes.
"Thanks," Lois answers simply, a testament to just how rattled she is. She gives Clark a look, then shakes herself. "But just for tonight," she adds hastily.
One of the crime scene technicians starts drilling into another section of the bathroom wall and Clark takes her by the elbow, leading her down the stairs. He tells himself that this is the only natural thing to do, now that Chloe's been taken care of. It's just his natural protective instinct; it's never really mattered who it's applied to. Still, this reasoning does nothing to quell the awkwardness that hangs in the air between them.
"Like old times, right? We can fight over the bathroom." He isn't sure where this is coming from either, but it's better than the silence.
"You can stop talking now," says Lois, giving him a ghost of one of her looks.
"Hey!" Clark pauses to open the door of the truck for her as they make it out front. He picks the argument back up the minute he's inside the driver's seat. "I believe you once said something about uncomfortable silences." A news camera records them as they drive away.
"Between strangers," says Lois absently, turning all the way around in her seat to watch the scene at the Talon fading into the distance.
"I don't believe you mentioned that particular stipulation at the time."
"Big words," deadpans Lois, though her voice seems a little stronger now. "My cousin must finally be rubbing off on you." She realizes what she has just said one second too late, and the silence falls again, more heavily this time. The remainder of the short drive to the farm is punctuated by the sound of the truck's wheels on the pavement, and the occasional pebble flying up with a ping.
"She'll be okay now," says Clark, as they pull up in front of the house. Lois gives him a blank stare for a moment, then nods, snapping out of whatever reverie she's gotten lost in. "Chloe," he clarifies. Lois rolls her eyes and slams the door of the truck.
The lights are all off inside the house, and Clark motions for Lois to go up to his room. He waits until she's out of view, then pours two mugs from the pitcher of iced tea that's in the refrigerator and quickly nukes them. He catches up to Lois at the top of the stairs, but for once she doesn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. He hands her one of the mugs and flips the lightswitch on as they enter his room.
"Tea, Smallville? How Zen of you." She sniffs steam coming off the cup, then sits on the bed. Clark thinks that at one time he would have been all too eager for her to leave, but now it's nice having someone to talk to now. It makes it easier to ignore the silence that has engulfed the house since the funeral. He sits beside her on the edge of the bed.
Lois sets the mug down on the nightstand and looks around thoughtfully, though Clark is fairly certain she's not really seeing anything in the actual room. Outside, it has started raining again, big, heavy drops. They make loud, wet popping noises against the window panes. The accompanying wind sounds decidedly lonely.
"You said Dr. Cydell was Chloe's psychiatrist," says Clark at last, voicing the question that's been nagging at the back of his mind all night. "Had she been going to him before?"
"Honestly, I don't know. We walked into that hospital, and he introduced himself to me that way." Lois sighs. "I guess I'll have to ask her eventually." She gets to her feet and paces for a moment, the floorboards creaking a little under her weight. Without thinking, Clark grabs her hand and pulls her back onto the edge of the bed. She gives him a look, surprised.
"Chloe never told me about her mother," says Lois at last.
"Really?" It's strange, Clark thinks, that Chloe would tell him something but keep it from Lois. As far as he knows, Lois has always been the number on confidante. "When you said there was no history at the hospital, I just figured you were covering for her."
"No. No, she really never told me." She sounds a little angry, and very sad. Clark looks at her hard. He isn't used to any sort of emotion from her outside of derision.
"It doesn't really change anything," says Clark, attempting to be comforting. The words sound lame the minute they're out of his mouth. He wishes for a moment for some kind of ability to change what's been said. Somehow, though, he knows words will always be too powerful for him.
"Of course not. Everyone's got a crazy aunt, right? Might go a long way toward explaining things though." Her voice is edged with bitterness, and Clark wants to clobber himself for bringing it up, though he isn't sure when he's started caring what she thinks.
"She didn't like talking about it," says Clark, thinking that he's only going to dig himself in deeper and not particularly caring. "She didn't like thinking about it, even."
"She told you," says Lois, getting right to the heart of the problem. "I think that bothers me more than anything."
"Lois…this isn't about you. Chloe just…" Clark shrugs, not sure what he's trying to say. He still can't fathom the fact that Chloe hasn't told her, let alone convince Lois of a rational explanation.
"Chloe just chose not to tell me the biggest secret of her life. Our lives." Angrily, Lois kicks off her shoes and spread-eagles back onto the bed.
Clark sighs. "Go to sleep, Lois."
"Thanks, Clark. You've been a real comfort." She rolls onto her side with her back to him: conversation over.
Clark starts to get up, then thinks better of it. She's obviously angry at him, and the thought of leaving her more upset unsettles him, though he isn't sure why. Always uncomfortable around emotional girls, Clark starts to put a hand on her shoulder, then hesitates and pulls it back. Lois makes a noise that is something between a yawn and a snort.
"Good decision." She rolls back over onto her back and bats at his hand, which still hovers over her face. For a moment, she reminds him strangely of a cat. Absently, Clark grabs at her fingers, tangling them lightly with his. Lois pulls away sharply.
For a moment the awkwardness creeps back up between them. Clark takes a sip of the tea, and makes a face at its bitterness. Hail clacks against the glass of the window, and Lois jumps a little. He watches her out of the corner of his eye, thinking she still must be shaken if something so small can evoke such a big reaction in her. And why shouldn't she be, after everything that's happened?
"Chloe would do anything to protect the people she loves," says Clark at last. "I'm willing to bet that's why she didn't tell you. She knew you'd be upset."
Lois sits up and looks him straight in the eye for the first time all night. "I know, Clark. I just worry about her. What else isn't she telling me? It scares me, how ready I was to believe that she'd actually done it."
Clark nods; he's been thinking the same thing all night. Lois opens her mouth to say something else, but is cut off by a huge yawn. He can't help but smile at the look of indignation on her face. Betrayed by her own sleepiness.
"Go to sleep," Clark repeats. He slides off the edge of the bed, sitting on the floor with his back up against it. "It'll be dawn in a couple hours."
"Tell me about it." She burrows under the covers, but makes no move to turn the light off or get him to leave. He rests his chin on his knees and silently vows to stand guard for the remainder of the night. Outside, the storm is finally beginning to die down.
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