Smallville Fic: The Story of Us #4 - Light
“Do you know where Krypton would have been?”
Clark cocked an eyebrow at her, his thumb absently stroking the back of Lois’ hand. They were sitting on the steps of his front porch, having just cleaned up from dinner. The sky was deepening to sapphire, pinpricks of light beginning to dot their way across the vast expanse. He turned his head slightly, following her upward gaze.
“It’s kind of hard to tell,” he answered quietly.
“Right, different galaxies and all.”
He nodded, squeezing her hand gently. Looking back up at the sky, his eyes zeroed in on one particular spot. It was the one place in the sky that had always been, well, for lack of a better word, blank. In all his nights of stargazing, he’d never noticed the twinkle of a star there.
It wasn’t a very large area, at least to the naked eye from a distance. But each night, since he’d been about eighteen years old, his gaze had been drawn to that spot. Rationally, he didn’t know that it actually meant anything - surely there were other places in the sky like that, filled with inky blackness with nary a sparkling point of light. But he had assigned his own meaning to that always black area of the night sky. Because it seemed to him that that particular dark region wasn’t just blank, it was empty.
As if something were missing.
Lifting their joined hands, he directed them toward that area of the sky.
“There.”
“There what?”
He leaned behind her a bit, trying to help direct her line of vision.
“That spot, straight up from our hands,” he said softly into her ear.
“Okay.”
Lowering their hands, he placed them in his lap. “I started noticing that a few years ago. I always thought it was weird, that no matter what time of year it was, what time of night, there were never any stars there. Any other spot in the sky, at one time or another it seems like, is lit up by a star.”
“But not that one.”
“Not that I’ve seen. And when I’d go up to the loft…”
“Which, in those days, was pretty often,” she teased gently, lightly nudging him in the ribs with her elbow, earning her a good-natured smile from her boyfriend.
“Yeah, well when I would be up there, for some reason, I’d always immediately look at that spot. There was just something about it. I don’t know, I started to feel like maybe it was intentional, the darkness. It sounds silly, I know, but…I feel like that’s where Krypton would have been. Like it’s not a coincidence that there’s always emptiness there, never any light, because the light that should have been there, that planet is missing.”
She felt her free hand come and rest on top of their joined ones, stroking the back of his hand gently. When his eyes met hers, he noticed the light sheen of wetness covering them.
“It’s crazy, I mean, I know even if Krypton was still there, we wouldn’t be able to see it from Earth…”
“It’s not crazy at all,” Lois interrupted softly, bringing her hand up and running soft fingers along his cheek. “In fact, it makes perfect sense.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. But you’re wrong about one thing.”
“Naturally,” he said, the corner of his lips ticking up into a slight grin.
“The darkness up there,” she said, accentuating her words with a slight head tilt toward the area in question above, “may be because of your missing planet, but the light isn’t gone, Clark. It’s just not in the sky anymore. It’s here,” she finished, her voice just above a whisper as she placed her hand over his heart.
His grin morphed into the sweetest of smiles at that. She never failed to surprise him. The woman whose lack of edit button got her in trouble on pretty much a daily basis somehow always knew exactly what he needed to hear.
Raising her hand to his lips, he pressed a soft kiss into her palm.
Shifting slightly, they settled with Clark leaning against the porch post, Lois leaning back against him, wrapped in his arms. He leaned his cheek against her hair, his eyes once again drawn to the empty spot in the sky.
And he smiled into her soft tresses. Because while he carried the light of his missing home planet in his heart, his light on this planet was snuggled safely in his arms.
Clark cocked an eyebrow at her, his thumb absently stroking the back of Lois’ hand. They were sitting on the steps of his front porch, having just cleaned up from dinner. The sky was deepening to sapphire, pinpricks of light beginning to dot their way across the vast expanse. He turned his head slightly, following her upward gaze.
“It’s kind of hard to tell,” he answered quietly.
“Right, different galaxies and all.”
He nodded, squeezing her hand gently. Looking back up at the sky, his eyes zeroed in on one particular spot. It was the one place in the sky that had always been, well, for lack of a better word, blank. In all his nights of stargazing, he’d never noticed the twinkle of a star there.
It wasn’t a very large area, at least to the naked eye from a distance. But each night, since he’d been about eighteen years old, his gaze had been drawn to that spot. Rationally, he didn’t know that it actually meant anything - surely there were other places in the sky like that, filled with inky blackness with nary a sparkling point of light. But he had assigned his own meaning to that always black area of the night sky. Because it seemed to him that that particular dark region wasn’t just blank, it was empty.
As if something were missing.
Lifting their joined hands, he directed them toward that area of the sky.
“There.”
“There what?”
He leaned behind her a bit, trying to help direct her line of vision.
“That spot, straight up from our hands,” he said softly into her ear.
“Okay.”
Lowering their hands, he placed them in his lap. “I started noticing that a few years ago. I always thought it was weird, that no matter what time of year it was, what time of night, there were never any stars there. Any other spot in the sky, at one time or another it seems like, is lit up by a star.”
“But not that one.”
“Not that I’ve seen. And when I’d go up to the loft…”
“Which, in those days, was pretty often,” she teased gently, lightly nudging him in the ribs with her elbow, earning her a good-natured smile from her boyfriend.
“Yeah, well when I would be up there, for some reason, I’d always immediately look at that spot. There was just something about it. I don’t know, I started to feel like maybe it was intentional, the darkness. It sounds silly, I know, but…I feel like that’s where Krypton would have been. Like it’s not a coincidence that there’s always emptiness there, never any light, because the light that should have been there, that planet is missing.”
She felt her free hand come and rest on top of their joined ones, stroking the back of his hand gently. When his eyes met hers, he noticed the light sheen of wetness covering them.
“It’s crazy, I mean, I know even if Krypton was still there, we wouldn’t be able to see it from Earth…”
“It’s not crazy at all,” Lois interrupted softly, bringing her hand up and running soft fingers along his cheek. “In fact, it makes perfect sense.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. But you’re wrong about one thing.”
“Naturally,” he said, the corner of his lips ticking up into a slight grin.
“The darkness up there,” she said, accentuating her words with a slight head tilt toward the area in question above, “may be because of your missing planet, but the light isn’t gone, Clark. It’s just not in the sky anymore. It’s here,” she finished, her voice just above a whisper as she placed her hand over his heart.
His grin morphed into the sweetest of smiles at that. She never failed to surprise him. The woman whose lack of edit button got her in trouble on pretty much a daily basis somehow always knew exactly what he needed to hear.
Raising her hand to his lips, he pressed a soft kiss into her palm.
Shifting slightly, they settled with Clark leaning against the porch post, Lois leaning back against him, wrapped in his arms. He leaned his cheek against her hair, his eyes once again drawn to the empty spot in the sky.
And he smiled into her soft tresses. Because while he carried the light of his missing home planet in his heart, his light on this planet was snuggled safely in his arms.