By Caroline K. <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Submitted: May, 2007
Summary: Clark's thoughts during Season 4's "Dead Lois Walking."
As a boy in Kansas, Clark had enjoyed the sound of rain on the roof. Especially at night, when he was snug beneath his heavy quilt, he had loved being lulled to sleep by its rhythmic thrumming overhead. Back then, rain had meant green fields, thriving corn, and a swollen swimming hole. It had been a reassuring sound, because he'd always known that however hard the rain, he was safe and dry, and sun would surely follow.
But there was nothing reassuring about the torrents of rain that were hissing down from the sky and slithering in through the cracks in the ceiling of the Cozy Motel. The relentless pounding of the storm seemed like just one more way in which the world was conspiring against them.
They had made love, and they had tried to pretend it was just like always, but there had been an undercurrent of desperation that had never been there before — the storm and the dismal motel room reminding them that every whisper and every caress might be their last. They had planned on having a life together, on growing old together. Was it possible that it would all end tomorrow? Was it possible that they might have nothing more than this night in this room before the world closed in on them?
He didn't know how to love her enough for that. He didn't know how to touch her so that it would last them forever.
No. Just as he hadn't been able to leave her in that jail cell, he knew he couldn't let this night be all they ever had. When they had spoken their vows to one another, he had promised her their future. If it meant breaking every law of the land, if it meant picking her up in full sight of witnesses and flying her away, if it meant living the rest of their lives on the lam…he would find some way to keep that promise. He, who had always claimed to stand for truth and justice, would turn away from both for the woman nestled against him, sheltering from the storm.
He pulled her closer, relishing the feel of her soft body against his. "Mmmm," she said, a smile briefly touching her lips, and with that sweet, sleepy sound of contentment, he knew she was oblivious to the rain lashing against the dumpy motel. She was safe in his arms and always would be.
"It's all right," he whispered, mostly to himself. "It's going to be all right."
For the first time that night, he actually believed it. With his wife in his arms, he drifted off to sleep with rain on the roof, to dream of green fields and wide, cloudless skies.
A/N: This was written as a challenge fic for my friend Sara Kraft. Thank you so much, Sara, for the inspiration :).