Allegiance

A/N: My very first story on this site! Gee, I hope this is good. I pretty much grew up a JLA kid and has stacks of DC comic books in my house. So, I was dismayed when Clark and Lois pretty much got into each other's throats these last days (except the Convergence elseworld story) what with the New 52 and all, and I just had to write a fanfic about their complex characters (and relationship) in tribute to 76 years of Supes. Enough with this cheesy author's note, thank you for taking time to click this. Hope you enjoy it! Reviews are welcome!

Summary:

Based on the post-Convergence continuity. Clark Kent goes into hiding after his secret was known by the whole world. Meanwhile, Lois Lane is hot on the trail of the world's next biggest story. But this time, she might just not get away with it alive...

Rating:

T for language and theme

Disclaimer:

I, the author, do not own any of the Superman characters and settings nor any characters related to Superman. All characters are purely owned by Warner Bros. and DC Comics. I write for my pure happiness and not for any profit. Some lines and scenes are taken from Divergence.

1:

Fine.

I toss the newspaper aside and sit straight in front of my desk. I know I should not have done that stupid thing. I should have respected my friend's wishes. If he is still my friend after all of that. I did not meant to. I never want to.

'Superman's True Identity' the headline reads. It creeps back into my mind even when I close my eyes and try to think of something to divert my emotions. But, no. Lois, you messed up big time. And this time, I do not know what I am supposed to do next.

Clark would be angry when I see him again. Even saying that is an understatement. Who cares? My evil self reminds me. He is currently on with that woman in a Star-Spangled Banner bathing suit. Like we had not been friends at all. Just seeing them in that public display of affection, mid-air, makes me want to puke. It's just...that man is not Smallville. Something's wrong. I don't know what it is right now, but definitely it's like I have been placed in the wrong movie.

Now, this disaster spells ten times wrong for me.

And Clark? He's nowhere to be seen for the last 72 hours!

I brush the weariness off my eyes and grab my phone from my pocket. A picture of Clark standing alone at the subway pops on my screen. A certain HannahB. tweeted it. She even tagged me. She has the nerve to tag me.

Thanks! If only I knew it before, I passed by this handsome nerdy guy almost every day 3 #TheDailyPlanet #Supes #MrKent #SecretIdentityReveal

Clark's ordinary stature in the photo, with his stooped large shoulders and wide-rimmed glasses, brings to my memory of how cruel I had been. Cruel is the only word I could accurately give it. I mean, Clark Kent, when I met him as a fledgling reporter at the Planet, is a lonely boy. A troubled and lonely boy. Nevertheless, he impressed Mr Perry White and eventually became my rival.

He is a good rival. And a good partner. Even without his cape, he saved me several times. Like when I walked with him to the Planet when we were just starting out to be partners for a certain story, I - actually both of us - almost got mugged. But he seriously scared the attacker with his large shadow and big voice. And somehow, that guy fled after missing a fire at me.

What have I done that made me consider my own self as a cruel b****? Well, for one, I admit I am a perfectionist and realistic. Clark simply is not realistic. He has a rose-tinted view of the world; that somehow every person will see the good in their hearts and change. I do not believe in that crap and try to shove some sense into him.

It did not work. Obviously.

He is still my friend. After all that we had gone together as partners, my gut now nags me that this time I have stepped out of my limits. Selling out his privacy would be the last thing I would ever do to a best friend and he knows it.

But why did I?

Darn, Lois what a rut. Clark is my friend. I should not have done it. I know I do not like to do it. But someone keeps telling me that Truth comes first. It's there, whispering that the world should know who Superman truly is. And that it might help Clark to face the world in his true self.

Truth, Lois, is what you fight for.

But now I think there are truths that you have to sacrifice for friends.

I keep scrolling in my social media accounts, until I realize there is really no point in doing it. It makes me guilty all the more and be rotten. I quickly stand to my feet and wear my coat. I have to go and say sorry while it's still early to do so.

My first resort is to call Jimmy.

"Hey, Miss Lane," he answered at the first ring.

I hurry down the hall and into the empty elevator. "Jimmy, thank God! Do you know where Clark went? I called his phone. He is not answering me. Jimmy, it was all a misunderstanding." My shaking finger pressed the G button and reverted back to the warm pockets of my coat.

Jimmy sighs on the other end. "Look, Miss Lane, you and Mr Kent are good friends of mine. I take no side but don't you think it's a little overboard that you reveal his life to everybody? I don't know where he is now. Probably dodging people."

"I did not want to, Jimmy. I am going to say sorry," I say, exasperatedly. "Thanks, okay?"

"Okay," he answers, "I hope you two sort this out, Miss Lane. CK looked really hurt."

Cop friends come in handy when you are searching for an otherwise untraceable person. Clark had already probably deserted his apartment. And he's too confused to hide in that cold palace of his up in the Arctic. So I end up here, seated in Officer Henderson's office at the Metropolis Police Station.

The door swings wide open and Officer Henderson strode in, with an amused look in his face. "Miss Lane, what brought you for a visit?" He takes off his coat, a stark cream parka in contrast to his dark skin, and lays it on his huge chair across mine.

I stand up and shake his offered hand. "I need to find a missing colleague. He's gone off the face of the Earth for the last two days and I'm worried as hell."

He nods. "Very well. I take it that no missing person case has been brought to us yet?"

"Yep," I reply with a sigh. "It's very confidential." He invites me to sit and walks off to a coffee maker at the far corner of the office.

"I understand perfectly, Miss Lane, you rarely have some private meetings here with me if not for a 'touchy' subject," he says casually while setting a mug on the appliance. "Want some coffee first?"

Coffee sounds good, and it might help me rein my nerves in before I dash out of my seat to buy a cigarette. "Thanks."

He smiles. "So, about this colleague."

"Kent, Clark. He's six foot four. Has dark hair, blue eyes. Very big man… Caucasian, that's about it. As far as I know he received no threats of any kind. Well, none civilian threats any way."

Officer Henderson looks at me curiously and takes the mug filled with black coffee from the coffee maker. "Oh, Mr Kent. Yes, I remember. We are also looking for him, Miss Lane." He hands the mug to me and turns to get himself one too. An sympathetic look crossed his face. "As far as Metropolis is concerned, he has already fled."

My hands cradle the steaming mug, its pricking heat becoming a sort of retribution for the guilt harboring in my heart. I keep my eyes on Henderson. We have known each other for quite a while since I'm on the city beat when I started at the Planet. He is trustworthy and blunt. One of the few good men in Metropolis.

Maybe Clark has fled. After all, he could go to China in twenty seconds flat and Superman is pretty much the citizen of the world. But I wouldn't back so easily. I can still feel Clark nearby. A hollow presence, hiding behind the few shadows this city could offer for an estranged hero.

"Are you sure that you have not seen a six foot four guy in a hoodie walk by the alley ways? He's large for crying out loud! Hardly, only a few men are taller than him in this city," I say, gripping the mug in my hands tighter. Nerves got the better of me, and raising my tone at him wasn't exactly what I had intended. "He couldn't just have fled Metropolis like that, Henderson. Both you and I know that."

He shakes his head and sips from his mug. "Times have changed, Miss Lane."

The black coffee does wonders to my raging nerves. With hesitance on both our parts, Officer Henderson promised to update me if ever they find a lead. Which is bleak, considering how Superman hasn't responded to emergencies for two days.

As I drive by Metropolis, I think of the other people I could ask help from. There's those guys at that hacker company – to think that they actually founded a real company is hilarious but they have clients, and that Reese Jenner lad who actually helped me with the Intergang Operations and my sister way back three years ago.

My mind debated whom I'm gonna call. Just like what Dad said, the fewer you contact the fewer mouths you have to silence.

I park my car in front of a convenient store and call the boy.

His phone rings for five times before he picks up. "Hello? Who's this?" A groggy voice answers on the other end.

"Kid, it's me."

"Miss Lane?" he says, surprised. "Gee, why do you call at this hour?"

"I need a favour," I reply, my other hand tapping on the steering wheel.

"Uh," he stammers, "should I-I rejoice about that?"

I roll my eyes. This is what sucks with this lad. "I don't know, but if you won't just say so! I tell you one thing though, after I'm done with this I'd go to your apartment and shove your hide."

"Okay, okay chill Miss Pulitzer," he says with a laugh, "so fire."

"Superman-"

He practically screams at the phone, "I got this! Got it! I definitely got this Miss Lane just wait. Wait right there."

So I waited. This kid might be amateur but he's definitely proved his worth to me when he tracked Lucy once upon a time.

"CCTV of a motel, ten meters outside Metropolis City proper, just in last night," he says breathlessly, "matches all of description of Superman and Clark Kent. I've saved this when one of my buddies thought they chanced on Supes in that motel. Didn't believe then but now… well maybe he is our guy after all."

I frown. "You're telling me Superman checked in a motel?"

"Yup," Reese says confidently, "it does sound absurd, Miss Lane but it seems rational."

"The motel? That rundown establishment? Did he arrive with someone? And what's the exact time?"

"Wait. 11:54 pm," he answers. After a few moments, the kid returns. "He's alone."

"Do you know the room number?"

Reese laughs. "Now, I'm just a hacker Miss Lane. The device of the establishment does not allow sound, just like an ordinary CCTV. And I've only saved the file from the reception, because until you called me I can't believe Superman checked into a motel too."

I grumble. "Thanks by the way."

"Check for yourself too," he adds, "no worries Miss Pulitzer, a hamburger would do for my services."

I laugh. "Maybe if you'd known the room number I'd get one for you."

"Haha, kidding."

"Thanks."

What do you think, dear reader?