The knife wouldn't have hit her foot. As much as Clark disliked what was going on right now, he never would have let it hit the ground if he thought for a second that the tip of the blade would pierce any part of Lois' flesh. Clark eyed the knife with an air of disinterest once it clattered to a standstill, then he leaned forward on the bed and clasped his hands together quietly. She didn't remember being married to him. She really was very young compared to the Lois that he remembered. Not in age, because a few years were only a few years, but in heart, spirit, and mentality. She didn't know what it felt like to live through this war. She had no idea what she and Clark had been together, both the good and - mostly - bad.
"Yeah." First mistake. Lois should have never married him. Maybe if she hadn't been with him, maybe if she had stayed with someone who wasn't so desperate to try and save the world, Lois would still be alive right now. Clark had been so obsessed with trying to live up to the reputation that everyone had expected him to fulfill that he had forgotten the one thing that mattered the most in all the world to him: Lois. If he had been less self-centered, greedy, and blind to what was right in front of him, Clark could have prevented her death. He could have swept her and anyone else who wanted to stay safe far, far away from this place - perhaps in another country entirely, in a place that no one would ever find them - and they all would have survived. Yeah, right. Like anyone was gonna survive this fucking nightmare. At best, he could have prolonged their deaths. It would have been better than sitting here, living out the rest of time in self-loathing and misery.
"You're four, maybe five years ahead of your time," Clark told her, eyes fixed on a spot on the wall just above her head. He didn't want to look at her. Her face, her eyes...Clark didn't want to look. "Who did you piss off this time? The angels?"