Broken

A small crowd dressed in black stood together in the falling snow.
   Lois Lane's coffin slid slowly into the ground.

   All manner of acquaintances were gathered in mourning. Family: Sam, Ella and Lucy Lane. Chloe Sullivan and her father, Gabe. Friends: Bruce, Alfred, Clark, Diana, Hal, Ray Palmer, and Lucius Fox. Others who came merely out of respect: Dan Turpin, Perry White, and Barry Allen.
   Sam Lane stood stiffly in his Army uniform, doing his best to hold his composure but failing miserably. Ella sank into his side, weeping. Lucy leaned on his other side, her face covered in tears of her own.
   Chloe felt cold. Alone. She wished that someone would hold her; comfort her. She looked to Clark, but he was too distracted with grief of his own.
   Clark's mind was a hurricane of emotion. For the short time they'd been together—and somewhat even before that—he'd loved Lois. He'd known, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he and Lois were destined to be together. As Clark looked down at the black coffin, his heart screamed at him that this was wrong. That with the death of one girl, every good thing in the world had shattered.
   A few people said a few words in remembrance. Clark didn't hear them.
   The ceremony ended and the crowd began to disperse.

   Perry White nervously approached Sam Lane. "Sir, my name's Perry White. EIC of The Daily Planet. I... I feel I owe you an apology. If I hadn't let your daughter—"
   Sam waved his hand dismissively. "No, it's no one's fault. No one except Lionel Luthor's. Lois made her own choices.
   "The same goes for you, Turpin," Sam said, turning to Dan Turpin, who was in the middle of walking over with the same guilty look that Perry wore.
   "Well, ah," Dan said nervously, "if it's any consolation, what your daughter did has already helped out the whole city. We're trackin' down all o' Lionel's thugs, and the ones we can't catch are off runnin'. Crime's down eighty percent. Things are better than they've been in years, maybe ever. You should be proud."
   Sam smiled and nodded. "I am."

   Ella and Lucy approached Clark.
   Ella gave Clark a weak smile. "Hi."
   Clark did his best to smile back, but failed.
   "I wanted you to know," Ella said, "the few weeks you and Lois were together... were the happiest I've seen her since she was a little girl. Thank you."
   Clark didn't know how to respond.
   Lucy slowly took a step closer to him, and looked up with big, tear-filled eyes. She tackled his stomach, squeezing him tightly. Clark lightly hugged her back.
   Lucy lifted her head again. "Will you come visit sometime?"
   Clark looked at Ella. She gave an approving nod and a smile.
   Clark nodded at Lucy. "Sure."
   Lucy brightened up a little, and rejoined her mother.

   After everyone else had left, only Clark, Diana, Bruce, Hal, and Barry remained.
   They stood together in silence.
   "So... what now?" Hal asked.
   "Something's wrong," Barry said. "I can feel it in my gut. Like part of the universe just got ripped out. Lois wasn't supposed to die. I mean, we all saw the future. We saw what—"
   "We saw something," Bruce interrupted. "It might never have been our future, and it sure as hell isn't our future now."
   "Clark, what do you think?" Barry asked.
   After a moment, Clark responded. "Whatever our destinies were before, they're gone." He paused for another moment to gather his thoughts. "Before, I used to feel this pull towards Metropolis. Like it was where I was meant to be. Like fighting crime and saving people was something I needed to do. But now that we've fought Circe, and now that..." Clark looked at the coffin again, but couldn't bring himself to say the words.
   "So that's it, then?" Hal asked. "Everything we saw... it means nothing?"
   The group's silence acted as confirmation.
   "So what do we do now?" Barry asked.
   "We go our separate ways," Bruce said. "I don't think 'the universe' needs us together anymore."
   Everyone else turned to Clark. He nodded in agreement.

   Gradually, the group dispersed.
   Hal stopped Diana before she left. Hal had noticed that she hadn't said a word since the Javelin landed home, and she looked terrible.
   "Hey, are you okay?" Hal asked.
   Diana stumbled over her words. "I... no... I just..."
   "Hey, it's okay," Hal said. "What's wrong?"
   "...I don't have a home anymore. I left my mother and my island. I don't know where to go."
   Hal hadn't even realized. "I'm sorry, I... do you have any place to go?"
   Diana shrugged, and her eyes watered.
   Hal moved forward to hug her, but she stepped back.
   "No, I just... I have to go." She turned and ran away, tears running down her face.

   Alfred, who patiently stood at the cemetery's edge, remarked at Bruce's calmness—or perhaps coldness—in regards to Lois's death. As Bruce approached him, Alfred held out Bruce's heavier jacket that he'd taken off for the ceremony. Bruce angrily shoved past, not bothering to say a word. Alfred breathed an inner sigh of sadness for the boy. He was every bit as dominated by his turmoil as ever—perhaps moreso.

   And thus it was that the youths who would have been heroes walked away from their broken destiny.

To Be Continued