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Broken	By : MidnightBard Category: G through L > Lois & Clark Views: 2191 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I neither own, nor make, anything. See full disclaimer.

Chapter List
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Summary: Clark has a secret, and it isn't the fact that he moonlights in tights. Can Lois help him overcome it, through the power of her love?
Disclaimer: I neither own, nor make, anything. All Lois and Clark characters, plot points, and lines of dialogue belong to DC Comics, Warner Brothers, December 3rd Productions, and anyone else with a stake in the Superman franchise. All non-canon figures in this story are fictional creations of my twisted muse. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely a coincidence.
Author's Note: This story is probably going to be somewhat controversial. My intent is not to demean the severity of sexual abuse, but to highlight the love between Lois and Clark, and the strength they have when together. I hope to come off with the utmost respect.
NO graphic scenes of non-consensual, minor sex will be depicted. It will only be mentioned. The graphic scenes are STRICTLY between two consenting adults.
This is an Alternate Universe story.
***
                "Hey, Lois," Clark said, sweeping by her desk, his hand to the knot of his wild blue and silver tie as he straightened it.
                "Hey," Lois said back, giving him a smile. "Everything okay?" she asked in a lowered tone.
                Clark stopped by her side and nodded. "Superman got there just in time to stop a disaster. A car stalled out on the train tracks outside of the city. The conductor saw him but it was too late. Even with the emergency brake, there was no way the train would have stopped on time."
                "Good job," Lois said, nodding her approval and patting his shoulder.
                "Thanks."
                Clark marveled, as always, at the casual way Lois accepted the fact that he lived two lives; one as himself - the mild-mannered reporter who was madly in love with his best friend - and the other as the world's most powerful superhero.
                She had figured the secret out six months before, when Inspector Henderson had requested their presence at a drug bust, down in the Hobb's Bay section of the city. At first, he'd been unwilling to say what he needed them for so urgently. He'd only divulged that he'd come across something odd, something he thought they might be able to help him with, or, at the very least, get their friend, Superman, to assist him with. It hadn't been until they had arrived at the police station that he'd opened up to them about his discovery. He'd found a small box containing a mysterious green rock which glowed brightly, even in the sunlight. When he'd snapped the box open to show them, Clark had instantly been overcome with pain. Unable to stand, he'd crumpled to the floor, sweating, and crying out in agony.
                Lois had instantly been on her knees, holding his body so that he didn't pitch forward and smack his head on the tile floor. She had screamed at Henderson to shut the box, over and over, as the normally cool-under-pressure cop had stood there dumbfounded. Lois, for her part, had recognized the symptoms right away. Superman reacted the same way when exposed to Kryptonite, though she'd only witnessed it herself a handful of times.
                The truth had been out. Lois and Bill had both been struck with the knowledge that Clark Kent, Daily Planet reporter and champion of the little guy, masqueraded as Superman, a stoic superhero with a host of powers at his beck and call. Clark, knowing his secret was out, had painstakingly explained his cover to his two friends, once he had recovered enough to speak without pain lancing through his lungs at every breath. He didn't want them thinking that Clark was the cover story. He needed them to know that Superman was the disguise, and why he'd taken it up. Bill had accepted it all in stride, and Clark had been relieved that, if anyone other than Lois had to be there when his secret was exposed, it had been Henderson who'd been there. The man was nothing if not the epitome of discretion.
                But Lois...
                She had been furious with him. They had only just begun dating when Clark's secret was so violently revealed. For over a week, she'd barely spoken to him at work and not at all on their off-hours. Perry, feeling the chill between the two award-winning journalists, had sent them, temporarily, on separate assignments, much to Clark's misery. But when Batman, the resident superhero of Gotham City, was murdered by The League of Shadows, it had also come out that the masked vigilante was in reality a persona taken up by billionaire Bruce Wayne. Certain members of the League had known of the man's double life and had set a trap for him, using his butler as bait.
                Clark had been devastated. He'd known Bruce. They had become good friends, ever since a chance meeting, a couple of years prior. Both had known of the other's dual life, and had protected the secret as fiercely as they had protected their own. But the murder had turned on a light inside Lois' mind. In an instant, she'd lost most of her anger toward Clark's deception, as sudden understanding had flooded her. Further, and calmer, talks had given her a much clearer, much more detailed look into Clark's life.
                Sent to Earth in a tiny spaceship as an infant, he'd narrowly avoided dying on his home world of Krypton, as the unstable planet ripped itself apart. Jonathan and Martha Kent had found him when the craft crashed into a field as they were driving along, late one evening. They had adopted the infant Clark, and had raised him as their own. But Jonathan's heart had always given him trouble. He'd suffered a series of minor heart attacks all throughout Clark's childhood, until, at last, when Clark was ten, the diseased organ had finally given out on him. Clark's father, the only one he'd ever known, had died before he'd even arrived at the hospital.
                Just five years later, Martha was driving to one of Clark's football games after school. The weather had been bad in the morning, but had slowly gotten better over the course of the afternoon. Still, the roads hadn't been great and she probably hadn't even seen the patch of black ice. She'd lost control, skidded off the road, hit a tree, and been ejected halfway through the front windshield, thanks to a faulty seatbelt. The police experts had said her death had been instant and painless, though Clark had always harbored some doubts about that.
                Clark had always blamed himself for her death. "If only" scenarios had always plagued his thoughts. If only his mother hadn't been driving to get to his game. If only he hadn't been a star athlete. If only he'd played a summer sport instead. If only he'd been there, he could have saved her. He was strong and fast, even at fifteen. He felt he should have been able to get his mother out of the car in time, or been able to stop the vehicle from leaving the roadway in the first place.
                What good were his powers, if he couldn't use them to save the people he loved?
                Left with no family to care for him, Clark had been truly alone. His one aunt had died when he was still a baby. He didn't even have any memory of her. She had remained unmarried and childless throughout her life. He had no cousins. So, the social workers hadn't had a choice. Clark had been shipped off to a foster family in California.
                The people, Arnold and Lillian Harwood, had one biological child of their own, a son named Alex. Alex was a full three years older than Clark, and Clark had had hopes that the two of them could forge a friendship, if not a brotherly relationship. Clark had been in so much pain then, losing both of his parents in so short a time span. He'd been desperate for any semblance of family once more.
                His dreams had been dashed when he'd realized the truth of his situation. The Harwoods didn't care about him. Arnold was too busy, wrapped up in trading stocks, to notice him, let alone ever sit and have a conversation with the depressed young boy. And Lillian had been too self-absorbed to be bothered with anyone but herself. Hair appointments, nail appointments, trips to the spa and shopping outlets had taken up all her time. At night, she would knock back a couple glasses of wine, then pass out in the living room.
                As for Alex...
                Alex had keep mostly to his friends. They were a rowdy, troublesome bunch. Clark knew, thanks to the use of his special abilities, that the boys often got themselves into trouble. Two of Alex's friends had spent time in juvenile hall during their early teenage years. Another had always boasted of the things he'd managed to steal, and how he'd avoided getting caught. All were heavy underage drinkers. Most had also been into drugs.
                Clark had been utterly alone. For several long months, he endured the situation. He would go to school and keep to himself. He silently shouldered the burden of the bullying he endured there. No one would talk to him, unless it was to poke fun at him. No one wanted to be his friend. Instead, he was teased mercilessly. Fantastic grades had led to him being called a nerd, and it hadn't helped that his intelligence had gotten him placed in the senior classes, instead of with his direct peers. The older kids had been offended to have such a young kid invading their classes, while the students his own age had snubbed him, muttering about how he must have thought of himself as "too good" to be in the regular classes with them.
                His glasses had been the subject of teasing as well. Once, Nick, the resident bully of the school, had even taken his glasses from him and stepped on them. The Harwoods had blamed Clark and had complained about the expense of replacing the broken frames and lenses. Unlike the kids at school, they hadn't even bothered to do it behind his back. No, those harsh words had been unashamedly said right to his face, loudly and full of anger.
                No one wanted to deal with him. Among the kids his age, in school and in the neighborhood at large, he was "that boy, the one with the dead parents." As if he carried some communicable disease, the other kids avoided him, as though they felt that too much contact with him would cause his bad luck to rub off on them, and their parents would also die. Clark felt that he was marked with some invisible taint that kept people away.
                And that was without even mentioning his powers. No one knew of them, and yet, Clark felt they kept him separate from everyone else.
                Control.
                Clark had worked diligently to keep his powers under control. Some of his abilities had manifested before his parents had died. More blossomed as his teenage years dragged on, in what had seemed like an endless span of time, during which, he often wondered if he would ever stop developing these weird new abilities. With his parents' help, he'd adopted a certain mindset, a mental checklist that helped him keep his powers hidden. His parents had understood, and had been sympathetic to his plight as each new ability arose, which had usually scared Clark half to death.
                But the Harwoods...
                Clark couldn't trust them with his secret. He couldn't trust them at all. They could never, ever, know that he wasn't a normal boy. They could never find out about his special talents. So, he redoubled his efforts to maintain the facade of normalcy.
                Despite his extreme loneliness, Clark continued to do well in school. He remained at the top of his classes, excelling no matter what the subject or how complicated the information. He graduated at the age of sixteen, taking the title of valedictorian in the process. Not that it made any difference. His peers still turned a blind eye to him. No one befriended him. No one showed up at commencement to cheer him on, or to beam proudly as he accepted his diploma.
                And then, with his diploma in hand, Clark had fled his foster family's home.
                Using his powers, he had made certain that he avoided anyone who might be able to identify him and turn him over to the police, who, in turn, only would have brought him back to the Harwoods. It hadn't been difficult, what with his incredible speed and sensitive hearing. He'd moved from place to place constantly, trying to find someplace where he could disappear into the crowds and become one of the faceless millions. The cities in California hadn't been an option. His face had been plastered over too many newspapers and TV news broadcasts there. It hadn't been safe.
                For a while, he had "settled" in New York, living on the streets, and doing whatever odd jobs he could for whatever price was offered. Time had moved slowly. It seemed to take forever for him to turn eighteen. Only then had he felt somewhat safe. He was, legally, a free man. No one could force him into going back to the Harwoods.
                At last, he secured work moving furniture for a small company, while he went through the process of claiming his inheritance from his parents' estate. But they had been simple farmers. There had not been much money in the bank, and the abandoned farm had turned half wild and hadn't sold for much. The bank hadn't cared. They had simply gotten what they could to cover the unpaid balance of the Kents' mortgage.
                So, every cent Clark made at his job, he saved, spending only enough to rent a tiny studio apartment. He ate only rarely, not really needing to, seeing as the sun fed and nourished his body. When he could, he took the odd course at a community college, working toward furthering his education and getting his degree, knowing he would need it if he ever stood a chance of securing his dream job. But the moving company had gone out of business a few short years later, forced to close its doors thanks to more and more national moving companies setting up shop in the area. Small, "mom and pop" shops simply couldn't compete and fell like dominoes.
                His bank account barely containing anything, he could no longer afford his rent and was forced back onto the streets. Still, Clark had wanted, more than anything, to be a journalist, and would not give up on his dream. For months, he went to every paper in Manhattan, as well as the surrounding boroughs. Unable to find work at any of the New York papers, he'd moved on, leaving the city in favor of Metropolis.
                There, he'd had a chance meeting with Jimmy Olsen, in a bar late one evening, when Clark had decided on the rare splurge to do something so frivolous for himself as to order a beer and a burger. The two men had started talking and had hit it off immediately. By the end of the night, the two had become fast friends. Not long afterward, Jimmy had told Clark of an opening at the Daily Planet. It wasn't reporting, but as manual labor in the printing division.
                It was long, hard, and dirty work, but Clark hadn't minded in the least. It was a step in the right direction. And, best of all, after six months on the job, he'd been eligible for the Planet's education program, where they had subsidized part of his college tuition costs. It had meant a lot of juggling and careful time management, but Clark had finally earned his degree in journalism, with top honors no less.
                Still, it had taken close to two years before he finally made his way out of printing and into the bullpen as a full-fledged member of the reporting team. And that was only because of the article he'd written after doing some of his own digging on a corrupt landlord who discriminated against certain people who had been looking for housing. He'd posed, along with Jimmy, as a homosexual couple looking to rent an apartment. The article had practically written itself. And, most importantly, it had earned Perry White's approval. Clark had even won a Kerth Award for his series of articles on the subject, and Jimmy had moved from gofer to photographer and occasional staff writer.
                Well, Clark and Lois had won a Kerth, at any rate. Perry had partnered the two together from the moment Clark had joined the reporting staff, thinking that the newest member of the bullpen could use a veteran reporter to teach him the ropes. Lois hadn't liked the idea of a partner at first, and hadn't bothered to hide it. But Clark had persisted and broken down her defensive walls simply by being his caring, sincere, and friendly self.
                It was during this same time that Clark had become inspired and created Superman as a way to help those in need.
                After working together for nearly a year and a half, Clark had finally gotten up the courage to ask Lois out. He'd wanted to do so the instant he'd met her, but her attitude toward him hadn't given him any hope of anything short of a crushing rejection. Once they had become friends, then best friends, Clark had again wanted to ask her out, but old insecurities had arisen, and for a while, he'd wrestled with them before finding his courage. But ultimately, he'd forced down his worries and had taken that huge step. To his eternal wonderment, Lois had accepted and their first date had gone exceptionally well. It hadn't taken them long to become an exclusive couple who were deeply in love.
                "Hey," Lois said, snapping Clark out of his thoughts. "Perry wants us to cover the mayor's speech this afternoon."
                Clark nodded. "Okay. That's at two, right?" He glanced down at his wristwatch.
                Lois nodded in turn. "Yep."
                "Okay. Sounds good. In the meantime, I got us the Superman exclusive on that rescue," he replied, giving her a sly wink, making her laugh lightly.
                "Guess it's a good thing you two are so close," she teased.
                Clark chuckled, loving how right it felt to be so open with Lois. Like pieces of a puzzle, they just fit together, incomplete without the other.
                "So, dinner tonight?" Clark asked, leading Lois to his desk and settling down in his chair.
                "I'd love to."
                "Great."
                "What are you thinking?"
                Clark thought for a moment. "We haven't done Mexican in a while."
                "You mean that little place...?" Lois asked, making their secretive hand gesture, which stood for Clark's flying ability.
                Clark nodded, grinning. "I still think they're the best," he said, meaning the quaint restaurant they had found in one of the overly touristy sections of Mexico. The decor was tacky, catering to the tourists' expectations, but the food was to die for.
                Lois laughed again. "I'd have to agree with that. You know, Kent, you spoil me."
                "I try," he admitted. "I hope that's not a problem." He shrugged, as if to say he would continue to spoil her, no matter what.
                "You're terrible!" Lois said, swatting his shoulder affectionately.
                Clark laughed and switched his computer on. "I am not. I'm just a man who is in love with the greatest woman in the world."
                "Mmm. And I am a woman lucky enough to be in love with her best friend."
                She leaned in and placed a kiss on his lips. Clark responded, deepening the kiss, though he was mindful of where they were - at work. All too soon, they broke and Lois turned away to face her desk. For a moment, Clark merely stared after her, in awe of the fact that she cared as much for him as he did for her.
                His eyes trailed her as she crossed the small distance - the bounce of her hair, the swaying of her hips, the way she settled into her chair. It was a struggle for Clark to pull himself back to focus on the project at hand. With a sigh of regret, Clark finally pulled up his word processing program and readied himself to type up the near-miss on the train tracks. Deadlines didn't care how gorgeous Lois was, or how in love with her he was. And Perry would skewer him alive if he produced nothing but a puddle of drool all day. He loosed another weighty sigh, then dragged his eyes to his monitor. For a moment, he just sat, almost mesmerized by the blinking cursor on screen. He mentally arranged his notes on what had happened during the rescue, throwing in a couple of choice quotes from his alter-ego for good measure. It wasn't a difficult article to pound out, and before long he was finished. Proof-reading it twice, he sent it off to Perry.
                Opening a new document, he busied himself with typing up notes for another story he and Lois were working on. They weren't anywhere near ready to break the expose on bribes that certain members of the Metropolis Police Department were rumored to be taking, but it helped to have notes written down anyway. He picked up his phone and quickly called Inspector Henderson, with the faint hope that his friend might have some information for their investigation. While Bill was a good and honest cop, Clark knew from experience that the bonds forged from wearing the same uniform were often thicker than one would think.
                Across the way, Lois' phone rang. Clark watched out of the corner of his eye as she picked up the handset and spoke quietly into the receiver. She looked a little shocked, and maybe even a little annoyed, to Clark's highly trained eyes. He wondered who, or what, had upset her, though he fought the urge to eavesdrop with his special hearing. It was just as well, for at that moment, Henderson finally picked up the other end of the phone line, and Clark was forced to focus his attention on the conversation at hand.
                Twenty minutes later, he hung up with Henderson, no closer to the truth about what was going on with the alleged scandal. Clark sighed, tapping the capped end of his pen against the yellow legal pad before him. He believed Bill when he said that he didn't know what was going on, and that he was personally attempting to stay as far away from it as possible. One of the officers involved had been his partner, back in the day when Henderson had been a rookie, fresh out of the academy. But he and Ogden hadn't ever really gotten along. In fact, he had admitted to Clark, it had been a relief when Ogden had been transferred to one of the desk jobs just a year and a half after Bill had started his career.
                But none of that was helping Clark get anywhere with their investigation. He knew Perry would be disappointed and angry over their lack of progress on the story. But who to call next? He had already left word with every single snitch he and Lois knew, and none of them had turned up anything yet. Either the case was being very closely guarded, or the rumors were unfounded. Clark's gut told him it had to be the former.
                At the thought of his gut, his stomach let out a loud complaint. While he didn't strictly need to eat, he did enjoy the simple pleasures in life. Among those, a good meal ranked pretty high. During his days living on the streets, he'd barely eaten anything at all, opting to save what money he could earn or was given to him by kindly passersby in order to pursue his education, knowing he had to find a way to better himself. A hot dinner was a fleeting thing, but his education would last a lifetime, and had opened up the entire world before him. But now, he was an established, even respected, award-winning journalist. He made a good salary. With money no longer a dire concern, he made certain to never, ever miss a meal - not if he could help it.
                He glanced at his watch briefly. Ten to twelve. The perfect time to break for lunch. But Lois was still on the phone. He sighed and leaned back in his chair, content to wait until she was ready to go. Again suppressing the urge to eavesdrop on her, he simply let his mind wander.
                How dreary his life had been before Lois had brightened it! How lonely he'd been. Until he'd found her, he'd been miserable. He'd always been painfully aware of the outcast he'd been. But with Lois, he'd found acceptance. He'd found love. He'd rediscovered what it was like to have a family.
                He often thought about asking her to marry him. There was nothing in the world he wanted more than to spend the rest of his life by Lois' side. He would willingly pay any price for the honor of being her husband. If it meant killing Superman, well, it wouldn't be easy, but he would find a way. If it meant surrendering all his powers, he would gladly subject himself to the torment of Kryptonite every hour, if necessary.
                Only one thing had so far stopped him from rushing out to the first jewelry store he could find to buy an engagement ring. While it was still early in their relationship, he didn't think six and a half months was necessarily too premature to pop the question. After all, Clark's paternal grandparents had known each other only six weeks before getting married, and that marriage had lasted fifty years until death parted them.
                No, it wasn't the timing. It was just...there were some scars that ran too deeply. He wasn't afraid to commit to her. He wasn't afraid of not being able to be a good husband. He wasn't afraid of Superman getting in the way. If anything, Lois' acceptance of his dual identities had long since allayed that nagging worry.
                Across from him, Lois finally hung up her phone, stared at it for a moment as if it had just offended her, then sighed heavily. She slumped forward a little, resting her elbows on her desk and holding her head. Clark thought she looked exhausted from whatever conversation she'd just finished. He was instantly on his feet and moving toward her.
                "Hey," he said quietly, stepping behind her and placing his hands on her shoulders, rubbing lightly. "Are you okay?"
                "I guess."
                Clark's concern grew. "What's the matter?"
                "Nothing," she said, trying to brush the matter away.
                "Lo-is!"
                "It's nothing, really. Except...never mind."
                "Okay," Clark said, drawing the word out. There were still times when Lois still stumped him, in the way she handled some things. "How about lunch? I don't know about you, but I could really use a break."
                Lois checked her watch and nodded. "Yeah, I think that's a good idea."
                "Ming Palace?"
                Again, Lois nodded. Clark smiled and helped her into her jacket, before returning to his desk to grab his own. Fall was just starting to come on in full force, and the days had suddenly gone from warm and pleasant to brisk or downright cold. And while Clark didn't feel it, he was always mindful of blending in, and of Lois' comfort. He shrugged into the garment, then took Lois' arm and lead her through the bullpen. Lois kept silent the whole time, worrying Clark. Babbling Lois was a good thing. Silent Lois was never good.
                It wasn't until they emerged from the building out into the busy Metropolis streets that she began to talk again. Clark breathed a small sigh of relief at that. The longer Lois had kept her silence, the more anxious he'd gotten.
                "Okay, okay," she started, as if she hadn't spent the last minutes holding her tongue. "Yes, that phone call did upset me a little."
                "Lois, I didn't..."
                "No, it's fine. I just...I didn't want to talk in there. Too many ears and it's no one's business, right?"
                "Uh, right," Clark said, struggling to keep pace with Lois' thought process.
                "That was my mom."
                "I see," he replied, knowing at once that conversations with Ellen Lane usually ended with an upset Lois. "What'd she say to you this time?"
                "Marriage."
                "Excuse me?" he all but sputtered.
                "My cousin, Cindy, is getting married," she clarified.
                "And...that's a...bad thing?"
                "It is if you know Cindy," Lois countered. "She's been married three times already. In ten years."
                "Ouch," Clark said, his eyebrows shooting up into his hairline.
                Lois nodded. "Yep. Her receptions have lasted longer than her marriages. Literally, in the case of her second husband. They've all ended in divorces almost as fast as the wedding checks cleared."
                "So...what? You think she's a con artist?" Clark asked, peering at her and raising a skeptical eyebrow. "That she's just doing it for the money?"
                Lois patted his arm and shook her head, tolerating his light teasing. "No. Each failed marriage has devastated her. But she doesn't learn her lesson. She keeps going out with creeps, then gets all surprised when her marriages fall apart. It's a vicious cycle."
                "I'm sorry," Clark mumbled. "That's rough."
                Again, Lois nodded. "It is. But what's even harder for me is being forced to stand there and pretend that I'm on board with each and every one of these weddings. My mom pretty much demanded that I attend the engagement party Cindy and Mark are having next weekend."
                Clark winced. "What did you tell her?"
                "The usual. I tried everything. But short of being in the hospital on my deathbed, Mom will find some way of guilt-tripping me into going."
                "Lois, you're a grown woman. You don't have to do anything you don't want to," he reminded her gently. "If you don't want to go..."
                Lois shook her head and sighed. "I don't. I don't want to see Cindy make another mistake. But she's my only cousin, you know?"
                Clark bobbed his head in a quick nod. He didn't really understand it, the way Lois wanted him to. He was, after all, all alone, with no living family left. But he could imagine well enough where Lois was coming from. If it was Jimmy, for example, he'd want to be there for his friend, no matter what.
                "So..." he started, grasping for words.
                "So," Lois echoed. "Would you come with me? Please? I want to be there for Cindy, but I just can't bear the thought of going alone."
                "I'll be there," Clark swore. "The whole night."
                Lois grinned. "What about your other job?"
                Clark chuckled. "I think," he said, lowering his voice to a confidential whisper, "he's entitled to a night off."
                "Thanks," she replied, giving him a grateful smile. "You have no idea how much this means to me."
                "It's no problem, Lois," he assured her. "I'd do anything for you, you know that."
                "I do. But, well, you haven't met my family before. They're a bit...intense."
                Clark snorted a playful, feigned sound of offense. "Nothing and no one is ever going to scare me away, if that's what you're worried about. I'm far too deeply in love with you."
                They stopped at the corner, waiting for the light to change as drivers whizzed by, everyone in a hurry to get somewhere. Taking advantage of the situation, Clark turned to Lois and took her in his arms. He kissed her gently and felt her respond in kind.
                "I love you too," she murmured, nuzzling his nose with her own.
                "So...next weekend?" he asked, rubbing soothing circles on her back, just before the light changed from green to amber.
                Lois nodded. "Sunday afternoon."
                "What time should I swing by your place?"
                "I'll come to you. The party is at six."
                Clark nodded absently. Ahead of them, traffic came to an abrupt halt as the light went red. Clark let Lois out of his embrace and they started across the intersection. An easy silence fell between them as they walked down the busy sidewalks, each enjoying the other's company. And yet, Clark wondered what Lois was thinking about.
                He knew her history well enough by now. Her parents had divorced when she was a kid, right around the time when Clark's own world had shattered with the death of his mother. Caught between two warring parents, Lois and her sister, Lucy, had clung to one another. They hadn't had anyone else to turn to. Ellen was an alcoholic, who, even to the present, still battled the "demon in the bottle" as Lois sometimes put it.
                And Sam. Clark mentally shook his head. Sam Lane was an idiot. Upset that Lois and Lucy were both daughters and not sons, he'd never really bonded with either child. It wasn't as if he'd alienated the girls from his life. But that essential father/daughter relationship was marred with regret and disappointment, as well as a heavy, unhealthy dose of criticism. It had driven a wedge between them that Clark wasn't sure could ever be repaired.
                It deeply, profoundly saddened him, in a way he couldn't quite find the words for. He would have given anything for just one more day, even one more hour with his parents. For Lois' parents to throw away their relationship with their daughters - it was hard for him to fathom that. Lois was the most beautiful, intelligent, amazing person he'd ever known. She was one of the best in her field. Every day, she helped right the wrongs of the world, and helped bring criminals to justice. How could anyone turn away from her?
                She had been the one bright spot in his life since he'd become an orphan for the second time in his life. She had healed so much of the hurt he'd borne in his heart. She'd soothed his restless, unhappy soul. She'd eliminated so many the scars that had once marred his very soul. Her love had saved him.
                And yet...
                There was still one thing she didn't know about him.
                One thing that could make or break their relationship.
                One thing Clark couldn't find the words to voice.
                He shook his head slightly, hoping Lois wouldn't notice. She didn't, being far too engrossed in browsing a store window as they hurried by, still making their way to Ming Palace. He sighed, grateful for Lois' distraction. He didn't want her to realize that he'd been brooding.
                They turned a corner, finally arriving at their destination. Clark pulled open the door for Lois, allowing her to enter first, then followed closely behind. He forced away his dark thoughts, and, instead, looked ahead. He would need to buy a new suit for Cindy's engagement party. Though his work attire was in perfect condition, he didn't really want to wear any of those suits to the event. After all, he would be meeting Lois' family for the first time, and he wanted to make a spectacular impression. He wanted them to like him, not for his own sake, but for Lois', because, if he had any say in the matter, he would be a part of her life for a long, long time to come.
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Broken