A/N: I know it's taken a while, but here it is... the sequel to 'We Have A Lot To Talk About'. Almost everyone who reviewed it thought I should pick up the thread of the story again. Apparently leaving Clark heartbroken on the roof a skyscraper was too much to handle... :-)
For this to make sense, a month has passed since then. Basically, it picks up after the first scene in Doomsday and then goes AU. It's still the same story though, I promise. And another promise, though it won't seem like it at first, this IS a Clois story. It has to be. I just needed to set up the situation, which took a lot longer than I thought. We'll get to the good Clois parts soon, though...
Anyway, enough rambling from me. I hope you enjoy, and please review.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did, Jimmy would still be with us.
Summary: Clark receives a cryptic message from Chloe. Desperate to save her, Clark heeds the message, and pays a terrible price. The only person who can save him, body and soul... is the one person he swore he would never let in.
'Under Pale Moonlight'
Point – Counterpoint:
"Somewhere out there, beneath the pale moonlight…
Someone's thinking of me… and loving me tonight."
Fievel – An American Tail
&
"You ever dance with the devil in the pale moonlight?"
The Joker - Batman
~*~
…one…
~*~
May 13th, 2009
Words shouldn't echo through your life.
They just shouldn't.
And yet, they do.
Clark Kent stood at the huge feed-loading window of his loft – his mind, body, every pulsing nerve focused on two messages – a thousand years apart.
The first – a warning.
The other – a plea.
Clark was left feeling like he was facing an important choice. Though, for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what it was.
He clutched at the piece of paper rolled in his fist. Forcing himself to focus, he chose to ignore it, for now, and replayed his conversation with Rokk in his mind. Though it had happened only hours ago, Clark already found the scene blurring, fading, sending mere flashes to the forefront like some kind of taunt.
"Brainiac is gone, but so are you…"
"… save Chloe…"
"Her connection to Doomsday…"
And always – that one statement that echoed like no other.
"Tomorrow is the day you die."
It seemed to Clark that he'd spent his entire life fighting his destiny. Little wonder, if this was it. To die in a hopeless fight, against an enemy that could not be killed.
And to have it happen now!
Clark felt like screaming his rage to the stars until they shook loose from the night sky.
Just when he'd found a place he belonged.
Just when he'd taken the mantle of hero and placed it upon his own shoulders.
Just when he'd…
Just when he'd found love.
As happened so often these days, the image of Lois swam before his eyes. Closing his eyes, Clark felt a lump forming in his throat, and his heart breaking all over again. The messages forgotten, his mind drifted back to that night in Lois' apartment – over a month ago now…
He'd decided to tell her everything. About his dual-identity, his heritage, and – most important – the fact that somewhere along the way he'd fallen hopelessly in love with her. His path had seemed so clear when he knocked on her door. Lois herself was buzzing, mere hours after her first conversation with the Red-Blue Blur. Then, in the space of mere heartbeats, she'd shattered all his illusions of a normal life – with her, or anyone else…
"He's still just a guy, Lois," he'd said, referring to his alter-ego.
"But I don't want him to be just a guy," Lois persisted, "Talking to him tonight – as great as it was – it almost… took away from it. I know how stupid that sounds considering I all but harassed this guy, trying to get him to talk to me. I put yours and Jimmy's life in danger to flush him out, and now I sound ungrateful, but I think…" she paused, gathering her thoughts, "I think I need him on that pedestal. I think we all do. Because if he steps off of it, and walks around down here with us… what do we have to strive for? To live up to?"
That was the moment everything changed. Clark knew then that he couldn't shatter that dream she'd created – of the faceless hero who brought hope to Metropolis. So he'd picked up the tiny pieces of his heart, and locked them away. For her. Always for her.
And now…
Clark realised he was gripping the sill of the window so tight he was digging gouges in the wood. Glancing at his hand, he remembered the note. The other message.
From Chloe.
Unfolding the single, hand-printed sheet, Clark read it again. He hadn't heard a thing from Chloe since she'd called to tell him she was running away with Davis Bloome. Crawling into the belly of the beast with the beast itself.
Not a word until that night when he got home, and found a plain, unmarked envelope sitting brazenly on the kitchen table. There was no doubt it was from Chloe. His years working at the Torch and copying her history notes meant he knew her handwriting as well as his own.
The message itself was simple, if a little cryptic.
'Clark,
Remember Halloween night, seventh grade?
The old foundry?
Remember what we did there?
Meet me at midnight, in the spot where we made the pact.
There are things to say.
Wrongs to right.
Chloe.'
Halloween, seventh grade. Thirteen long years ago. Thirteen years that separated him from a whole other life. Oh yes, Clark remembered. But, looking back, the memories might as well have belonged to someone else.