Ficlet: Memory of a Love Denied | SR | Clark/Lois, Jor-El/Lara | PG | 1/1
Title: With Fortune's Hand I: Four Relationships Remembered Fondly: Memory of a Love Denied
Fandom: DCU/Superman Returns
Pairing: Clark/Lois, Jor-El/Lara Lor-Van
Rating: PG
Word Count: 627
Prompt: For The Superman Movieverse Pairings Challenge: Fortress of Solitude, crystalline, understanding, memory(-ies)
Summary: But Jor-El does understand, after all.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own it all. I own nothing. Darnit!
Author's Notes: First of the four ficlets in Part I of the series. And yes, it's all Aftermath-Verse, with spoilers for the whole shebang. This one takes place about a week or so after the end of Aftermath.
Memory of a Love Denied
After their no-fuss wedding by a Justice of the Peace in Smallville, not quite two months after Clark had returned from his fateful journey across the galaxy only to land smack in the middle of a protracted disaster, the first thing the happy-and very much relieved-couple did was make an impromptu trip to the Fortress to break the news to the holograms of Jor-El and Lara. Standing on the central platform beside her new husband, the crystal structure around them gleaming with a prism of light, Lois waited for the giant disembodied head of Jor-El to blow a gasket, Clark holding her hand as he spoke to his father.
“I wish you could understand,” Clark said once he'd dropped the bomb, his voice wavering from the formal tones he'd seemed to always use with the AI. “When we spoke before-when you met Jason-it was not to ask your permission to be with Lois. I am more than capable of deciding for myself how best to accomplish my mission, and I've decided that bonding with Lois and having a family-being with my family-is that best way.”
The image of the white-haired Kryptonian wavered briefly, his expression turning from judgmental and disapproving to something resembling sadness, and replied at last. “Kal-El, I do understand. I had hoped to spare you the grief of such a bonding, when your mission will keep you from her more often than not, but it is clear that I cannot influence you any longer. You are your own man, and I am but a hologram, the memory of the man that once was.”
Lois opened her mouth to add her own thoughts about Clark being spared his grief, ready to strike back with every bit of Mad Dog Lane she could muster, when the image projected within the crystalline column flickered and changed again. This time the disembodied head was replaced by the full forms of both of Clark's birth-parents, Lara smiling fondly down at the couple on the platform.
“My son,” she started, “As we are but ghosts to you, you cannot know the depth of my hope for your chosen life. Though it may unfold as ours did, you may yet have the happiness that was stolen from us by our own choices, and eventually, death.” She glanced fondly at the image of her husband, standing stoic next to her, and grasped his hand in hers. “I wish you all the love that we once had, and were then denied. Lo-is,” she went on, shifting her focus, “You already promised to take care of Kal-El and your son, to protect all that remains of Krypton, that remains of us, but that is just the beginning of your journey. Do not let him become enslaved by his mission. You will both be well-served by keeping him grounded.”
Lois smiled at her advice and the irony in it, and the image of Clark's mother smiled at them both in return, a sense of understanding settling over them.
A long moment later, Jor-El spoke again, “We were once you. Do not become us,” and with looks of sad longing passing between them, the images of Jor-El and Lara disappeared.
Squeezing Clark's hand as tight as she could, Lois whispered to him, her voice seeming loud in the cavernous Fortress, “They loved each other, Clark. That's all that's important. And I love you.”
She wasn't really surprised when he swept her up into a squeezing hug, her feet leaving the ground as he lifted her. “I love you, too, Lois. I swear to never forget that.”
“Then let's do their memory proud, huh?” she said into his neck as she squeezed him back.
Clark nodded, nuzzling her hair. “Okay.”
And come hell or high water, they would.
~*~*~*~
Fandom: DCU/Superman Returns
Pairing: Clark/Lois, Jor-El/Lara Lor-Van
Rating: PG
Word Count: 627
Prompt: For The Superman Movieverse Pairings Challenge: Fortress of Solitude, crystalline, understanding, memory(-ies)
Summary: But Jor-El does understand, after all.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own it all. I own nothing. Darnit!
Author's Notes: First of the four ficlets in Part I of the series. And yes, it's all Aftermath-Verse, with spoilers for the whole shebang. This one takes place about a week or so after the end of Aftermath.
Memory of a Love Denied
After their no-fuss wedding by a Justice of the Peace in Smallville, not quite two months after Clark had returned from his fateful journey across the galaxy only to land smack in the middle of a protracted disaster, the first thing the happy-and very much relieved-couple did was make an impromptu trip to the Fortress to break the news to the holograms of Jor-El and Lara. Standing on the central platform beside her new husband, the crystal structure around them gleaming with a prism of light, Lois waited for the giant disembodied head of Jor-El to blow a gasket, Clark holding her hand as he spoke to his father.
“I wish you could understand,” Clark said once he'd dropped the bomb, his voice wavering from the formal tones he'd seemed to always use with the AI. “When we spoke before-when you met Jason-it was not to ask your permission to be with Lois. I am more than capable of deciding for myself how best to accomplish my mission, and I've decided that bonding with Lois and having a family-being with my family-is that best way.”
The image of the white-haired Kryptonian wavered briefly, his expression turning from judgmental and disapproving to something resembling sadness, and replied at last. “Kal-El, I do understand. I had hoped to spare you the grief of such a bonding, when your mission will keep you from her more often than not, but it is clear that I cannot influence you any longer. You are your own man, and I am but a hologram, the memory of the man that once was.”
Lois opened her mouth to add her own thoughts about Clark being spared his grief, ready to strike back with every bit of Mad Dog Lane she could muster, when the image projected within the crystalline column flickered and changed again. This time the disembodied head was replaced by the full forms of both of Clark's birth-parents, Lara smiling fondly down at the couple on the platform.
“My son,” she started, “As we are but ghosts to you, you cannot know the depth of my hope for your chosen life. Though it may unfold as ours did, you may yet have the happiness that was stolen from us by our own choices, and eventually, death.” She glanced fondly at the image of her husband, standing stoic next to her, and grasped his hand in hers. “I wish you all the love that we once had, and were then denied. Lo-is,” she went on, shifting her focus, “You already promised to take care of Kal-El and your son, to protect all that remains of Krypton, that remains of us, but that is just the beginning of your journey. Do not let him become enslaved by his mission. You will both be well-served by keeping him grounded.”
Lois smiled at her advice and the irony in it, and the image of Clark's mother smiled at them both in return, a sense of understanding settling over them.
A long moment later, Jor-El spoke again, “We were once you. Do not become us,” and with looks of sad longing passing between them, the images of Jor-El and Lara disappeared.
Squeezing Clark's hand as tight as she could, Lois whispered to him, her voice seeming loud in the cavernous Fortress, “They loved each other, Clark. That's all that's important. And I love you.”
She wasn't really surprised when he swept her up into a squeezing hug, her feet leaving the ground as he lifted her. “I love you, too, Lois. I swear to never forget that.”
“Then let's do their memory proud, huh?” she said into his neck as she squeezed him back.
Clark nodded, nuzzling her hair. “Okay.”
And come hell or high water, they would.
~*~*~*~