Introduction

Unanswered Questions

What was his story? He knew of the trial in the Supreme Court. He had been one of the reporters that were covering the story. That look was chilling. Even for the seasoned reporter, who had gone against many other opponents, he was still haunted by that intense gaze. With no leads yet to whom this person was, where he came from, it was looking to be a hard case to crack.

To say the least those black eyes plagued him. They were evil, kind, submissive, strong. In one word, they were mysterious. The furrow of the brow seemed to be what drove him to pursue this investigation fully. As he walked into the newsroom, the bullpen was bustling, papers furled about in organized chaos.

Lois looked up at him and then stood up. "There you are. You seem a bit pale, like you've seen a ghost. Are you alright?"

Clark Kent peered up over his glasses at the same time he pushed them higher on the bridge of his nose. "Perplexed, I guess you could say. I've seen many things, reported as many stories, but this one I have a feeling is more than it appears. Whoever this person is, he has almost no record to speak of, criminal or otherwise."

Lois Lane sat down on the edge of the table and tilted her head to look at him. "You care to bounce off what makes you so intrigued?"

The large man sat back in the chair as he put down the pencil and stared at the monitor screen in front of him. His glasses dimmed his piercing blue eyes to a more gray appearance, helping him to make the disguise work more effectively. "I was at the Supreme Court when they brought that person in for the murder of Jason Raven. However, when the crowd started to bustle around him, he shot one look."

She laughed almost as if Clark had told a hilarious joke. "One look was all he did? Come on, Clark, we've had much worse from the misdemeanor criminals than that."

His fingers pressed together. How could he describe the gaze? Words seemed to defy any description of what it was like. How could the others not be pressed back by it, if it could do the same to him? "It was a look I have never seen before Lois. It's just something you have to witness to get the full effect. I could talk until I'm blue in the face, but unless you see it, I can't even begin to describe it."

Clark's tenor voice trailed off into thought as he shook his head ever so slightly. Before he started this story, he would have to get the basics from the source himself. Shuffling papers around, he would look over the case. The wife had been in the house when it had happened. He continued reading the report as it described the horrific scene in front of him, the first hearing to be given. The hearing records should start to uncover the picture.

Lois could tell that he was again in deep thought and when he got like that, she knew it was impossible to speak to him further. Sometimes she wished she could read what was cycling about in her co-worker's mind. She also knew that Clark often seemed timid but got stories that other reporters could only dream of. Her gaze lifted to the huge windows that looked out over the city as if expecting to see the caped figure streak by. It was looking to be a slow news day. Lois could not be more wrong.

These questions would have to wait as an older, stout man, called them into the office. His graying hair and oversized girth would tell of too much time behind a desk. He was very different from his early adulthood. Perry White waited for the two reporters to enter his office and when they did, Perry turned to Clark. "Do you think the story worth pursuing?"

The seemingly mild-mannered reporter nodded. "I think there's more to the story. He's not the kind to be pushed so easily. In the courthouse, they actually said that he was a slave. Here is the twist though. He has no criminal record to even indicate that he should be. If I could get him to open up, there may be a Pulitzer Prize at the end of this."

Perry stared at the man long and hard. "How did that man back up seasoned reporters anyway? It was all over the screen, but there was no way to know how. The other papers are not covering this but this man too backed them. He doesn't even appear to do anything."

Lois only gave a sigh. "That's what I've been telling him Chief. He's firm in the thought that the criminal may be newsworthy. The murder at the Estate that he was found at only says that he was guilty. If there's evidence to the contrary, it hasn't yet surfaced."

Clark stood by the door, one hand in his pocket as he listened to his Editor-in-Chief, and Lois Lane. The two seemed to miss the very point. He was arguably the most powerful man on the planet, not that they needed to know his identity. That look though was enough to even set him back a step or two. No murderer had that cold of a gaze, nor that silent plea for help. "Then perhaps someone should try to get his side of the story. The question remains what really happened at the Estate, and no one seems to be asking him about his side."

The slender woman almost huffed out a sigh. "Chief, this is ridiculous. There have been many stories on this mysterious man. No one seems to want to come forward to claim he is not the murderer. This is something that should be left alone."

Listening to the bantering between Lois and Clark, made him realize what had and hadn't been covered. "Clark, the murder case is your's. Lois, I want a follow-up story on how that man was able to back even our seasoned reporter at the Supreme Court."

"But Chief…!" Lois started to retort back in a confrontational tone.

Perry didn't have to say a word. She wasn't so sure this story would amount to much. Whatever the man did to back up the reporters was not likely to be front page, nor was the murder case. Storming out of the office, she would grab a recorder, a tablet, and her phone, and then headed for the elevator bank.

Clark Kent would also head out, but instead of the elevator bank, he headed for the stairs. Changing rapidly on the run down, his speed increased to near supersonic and only a streak of crimson and blue would be seen. A gust of wind chased after him as he arced into the midday skies that were gray from an oncoming storm from the northwest.

Fingers would point, as the people would exclaim with the all too classic excitement of recognition. Superman flew just low enough to give the locals their wanted glimpses and conversation starters, but he was on a mission and he banked south headed for the appointed destination. He had to find the underlying cause of this case and quickly.

Streaking across the heavens, he would fly under the commercial flight paths, ever careful to not create too much of a void in his wake. The Man of Steel would look at the suburbs of Washington D.C. There was no doubt that they had to reside in such an area during the hearings and possibly the trial that would follow.

Those eyes were solid black, and more, he thought that the captive in the grasp of the police was looking straight at him. Even as the prisoner was moved into the building and the gaze turned away, but his head did not lower. He certainly was not holding the demeanor of a murderer. There was no pride of going in to such a building. In fact, he was certain that he'd heard the heart skip a beat, the breath catch in his chest.

The collared individual even hesitated before going in as if he had wanted to turn away, to run from such a building. Superman picked up his flight speed, to being only a blurring stream of color once more. When he found the place, he landed and looked around. He would change to his everyday clothing, and walked up to ring the doorbell.

Uncertain how the people here would take it, he was surprised when they found that Vegeta had answered the door himself. Again, those black eyes looked up at him. There was no way to brace for the brief glance that again would etch itself into the Kryptonian's memory. With the turning away of the gaze, Vegeta motioned him inside. No words were spoken as he gestured into the main living room and offered a seat.