She looked up.
She saw the falling beam.
She couldn't move in time.
She was going to die.
At the last possible moment, she was saved.
Lois slowly opened her eyes. She'd tripped backwards onto the sidewalk out of pure shock, and now sat on the ground, gazing up at her savior.
He had managed to catch the end of the beam that would have landed on top of Lois, but most of the steel's bulk had slammed into the ground behind him, cracking the asphalt and concrete. Through the sunlit dust, Lois only barely managed to see Clark's silhouette: standing with knees slightly bent, head down, and both hands firmly clasping the beam above his head. For a moment, she saw his head turn in her direction, then, slowly, he safely lowered his burden to the ground. With slow steps backwards, he began to fade into the fog before taking off into the skies once more.
Lois was not one to be awestruck by anything, no matter how incredible. But here, at this moment, she nearly cried. For all her cynicism, here she could feel nothing but unending gratitude.
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