By David <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Submitted: May 2006
Summary: Sequel to "Just Her." It'd been about him. The man whose last gentle smile had been for her. WHAM warning.
This is the sequel to Just Her. I'm not all that… well, I wasn't planning on writing a sequel, but Nicole very politely asked for one as her "make-up" story. Again, very little waff, but… what can we do? ;)
I don't like spoiling stories very often, but… if you prefer to think that Clark was saved in 'Just Her'… do not read on. Consider this your Major WHAM warning. In fact, this might even warrant a double WHAM warning.
Again, huge thank you to Sara for BRing. :) And thank you to LabRat, my SuperGE, for editing the story in a single bound!
It was about him. It'd been about him for years. The man she'd lost before she'd had a chance to love. It'd been about him since that moment. Since the moment he'd gone limp in her arms, his final breath a warm breeze against her cheek.
Nothing but him since the moment she'd realised that she could have loved him. That she had loved him.
She'd never let him say goodbye. Never let him speak his final words. And her life, since then, had been about him. Had been lived for him.
The man who'd died in her arms. The man whose last gentle smile had been for her.
The man whose last gentle smile had haunted her through a lifetime. Whose last gentle touch had stayed with her, even as her skin had weathered and cracked. Even as she'd grown old and watched the people around her forget his name. Everything had been about him. For him.
Even now, as the chorus of monitors grew faint, it was still about him. About his eyes she could almost see. His hand she could almost feel. Warm fingers that were almost wrapped around her own. His warm strength around her frail fingers…
His strong voice filling her ears. His voice… strong… warm…
"Clark?" His name. His name she hadn't spoken in decades. His name, like wine on her lips.
"No, mum. It's Steve."
Not his voice.
But she wasn't listening. She could see his face. His eyes smiling at her. His hand outstretched… Just him, the man she'd never had the chance to love. Just him, framed by the hospital light, waiting for her.
Waiting for her. And she took his hand. And it was just them.