Respect

Respect: ri spekt – a feeling or attitude of admiration and deference toward somebody or something

He held her all night long, wide awake in worry that when she woke up she would regret having him hold her.

To her that was a sign of weakness, to him it was a sign of trust.

When she would shift in his arms he would hold her tighter.

'She needs me.'

This was a change in everything they had come to be. She never truly leaned no him before. Now she's laying on him.

He's always respected her for being so mentally strong because it's just something he's not. But sometimes he wished she would just let her guard down and let him in.

Like she used to when they first met. When they had no real clue about who the other person was, they just need someone to alleviate the pain.

If only for a short while.

Because in those moments when she let him in, he could see that beautiful woman in there hiding. A woman whose heart is bigger than the world and waiting for the right man to take it.

A feeling or attitude of admiration and deference toward somebody or something.

Her eyes flutter, almost as if she is blinking behind closed lids. It's the eternal nightmare, he knows. She has this nightmare often. He can remember running up to his room to see her in a panic in her sleep.

But he could never touch her before. He could never give her comfort from this dream because she would wake up when he saw her.

And he would always wonder, 'What is that dream?'

He doesn't dare ask; she's not ready to tell. It's probably something private that he's not ready to hear.

Maybe because he fears the answer to that question.

Or maybe he already knows?

Maybe it's the same nightmare he has.

Everyone he loves dieing, because of him.

He turned his head to the window as she pushed her head deeper into the crook of his neck. The sun was sneaking in, watching them in this private moment. He sighed.

The weak Lois Lane would wake up soon, with claims that this never happened.

That was the worst thing about dealing with her. She couldn't stand the fact that someone has gotten to her, especially him. So she denies it and doesn't talk about it.

He wishes she would. He wants to know her.

She opened her eyes slowly and let out a small yawn before meeting his eyes.

Those hazel orbs of hers he had never seen so close.

'God they're beautiful.'

What are the secrets behind those eyes?

She began to push up off of him slowly, slowly pulling away from what he wanted to give her.

Happiness.

He held onto her tighter and didn't let her escape.

"Is it too much to ask for you to just talk to me about this?" He whispered.

She fought against his hands trying desperately to get away. She didn't have the strength to get free, this she knew, but she wouldn't give up.

"Lois…" He pleaded.

"Clark." She said sternly. "Let me go."

"Why?" He asked, his eyes trying to see into hers again. "So you can run away from what happened?"

"Nothing happened."

And it was the way she avoided his eyes that he knew. She was hurt, maybe not physically, but mentally.

"So I didn't find you out of it last night on the floor? I didn't pick you up for you to curl into me and cry?"

She began to fight him harder, her face turning red and her eyes welling up with tears.

"Stop. Please…" She begged of him. Her hands were flailing, trying to get away from his grasp.

"Lois." He held her still and set up. "Lois!"

She began pushing up with her legs, pulling herself away from him in any way she could. She didn't want him to see her. She didn't want him to hear her cries.

"Just let go Lois. Please, just this once. Let me be here for you." He smiled as her fighting started slowing down. She was listening to him.

She came to a halt and dropped her head defeated before letting the tears fall down her face. She made no noise to indicate it; she didn't want him to hear it.

She instead looked into his eyes and saw a worried man looking back.

She always wondered why he worries so much and why he feels the need to protect everyone. She didn't like it because it meant what he would do.

He would die for the people he cares about.

"Clark." She started and he waited patiently. She watched as he brought a hand up to wipe away the tears. She turned her face away from the hand. "I don't want you pity."

"How about my friendship?"

She took in the words before meeting his eyes again.

She respected his heart because he put it into everything he did.

It was something she would never do; it would mean she would get hurt often.

"I can take that." She watched him smile. "But I don't want it."

His mouth dropped and as did his grip. She stood and walked away. He was quick to follow her.

"What are you doing? Why is it every time you let me in you end up pushing me that much farther away?" He grabbed her arm and turned her around.

"Because I don't want you to see who I am! I don't want you to think down on me."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because I get this feeling every time you look at me that you have me placed on this pedestal that I can never live up to. I get the feeling that you think I'm just this strong amazing woman-"

"You are Lois."

"No I'm not Clark! That's you seeing the good in me, what happens to the bad you see in people? Where does that go on the pedestal? Or do you just throw that out?"

"I know you aren't perfect. I never expected you to be. I never wanted you to be."

"Then quit acting like it."

"Was I acting like it last night when I held you? Was acting like it when I drug you to your car and drove you home? Was I acting like it when you slammed the door in my face? Tell me when I've acted like it Lois! I'm just dieing to know!" He yelled all his frustration at her. He hated her desperate attempts to change topic.

She starred at him for a moment then walked over to the door, opening it for him to exit.

Her eyes glared at him. "I don't want to hear your morality lesson. Get out."

He stood firm in his position and defied her anger. He crossed his arms and starred into her eyes.

"GET OUT!" She screamed, unwilling to get any closer to him, knowing that if she did she would give in and fall once again.

His demeanor softened in a matter of seconds when he saw another set of tears form in her eyes. The way she was looking at him was breaking his heart.

He stepped forward with caution and offered her his hand. "I only want to help you."

"And what if I don't want your help?"

"But you need me here Lois. You needed me last night, you let me help you then. Why is now so different?"

"I can handle this on my own."

He sighed. "I know you can." He grabbed her hands away from the door. "But it would be a lot easier if you just let me help you." He pulled her into a hug and shut the door with his foot. "Let me help you."

She threw her arms around his waist and sobbed harshly into his shoulder, screaming out her anguish into his shoulder. She lost all feeling in her legs and he held her tightly to him.

He rubbed her back as she whispered her troubles into his ear; the mere thought sending shivers down his spine. But he listened to every little word.

He wasn't ready to let her go.