Clark was sitting at the breakfast table in Lois' apartment, sipping coffee from a small white mug. He thought this American practice of morning breakfast was one of the most loved and tender dynamics of his experience growing up in his adopted family. It made him think of his Dad. His Dad had loved coffee too. Clark remembered the first time he had tried the beverage he had found the taste revolting and way too acidic, but ever since then he had kept up the tradition of drinking it once in a while, if only to feel closer to those he loved. Like his Dad, and now to Lois, since she guzzled the stuff like water.
Lois was currently in the bathroom, getting ready for work. Clark was already dressed in a clean gray button down shirt and dark wash navy jeans. Both were by Ralph Lauren. Lois had made it her personal mission (among the millions of other activities she obsessed over) to outfit him in the typical American style. Due to her efforts, he had a wardrobe made up entirely of button down shirts, collared polos, blue jeans, and a few tailored suits. He was ready for working the streets of New York or attending fancier events. Clark didn't mind. Honestly he liked Lois' choices. He wouldn't wear them otherwise, no matter how much he loved her.
The television was on in the living room, directly in his line of vision, and even without turning the volume up, Clark could hear every word and see what was going on. The world news was playing of course, since this was Lois' place. She was so passionate… Clark had quickly learned to stay in tune with the news as well, especially after revealing his powers—his gifts—to the world and becoming the symbol that the public wanted. If he could have had it his way, he would rather be out of the lime light, helping people as a vigilante. But instead he had become some sort of celebrity, and was dubbed a "hero". A big title, coupled with an even bigger responsibility to live up to.
So many eyes were constantly watching and judging him, and Clark had to remind himself not to let it overwhelm him. He was bigger than all of that. He needed to focus on his life, while still keeping his ear to the ground or his eyes to the skies.
Right now the television was showing the familiar backdrop of Metropolis and its skyscrapers. A newswoman was smiling at the camera and talking about how relieved and happy the world was to have Superman back. And she was coyly calling him out, letting him know that his public was wondering where he was, and were ready to receive him. That he should stop hiding, that he should interact with his beloved fans and make an appearance. Soon. It had been a week since the world had heard that he had returned.
Clark thought he deserved some privacy, and holed himself up in Lois' apartment. This was after the gifted team Bat Man and Wonder Woman had gathered defeated that maniac Steppenwolf, and sent him (or rather was what left of him) and his army of creepy Parademons back to whatever god-forsaken alternate dimension they had come from. Clark shouldn't have been surprised at this point. He knew there were always other creatures, other aliens, from the past or even the future stepping into his radar and threatening his Earth.
But he still felt woefully underprepared, even vulnerable sometimes. He just never told anyone about that side of him. Not even Lois. He had grilled Wonder Woman on what she knew of the old gods and the Amazons during their flight back to the mainland. She was happy to oblige him. She always seemed to be calm and collected. A wise and seductive warrior. She brought him up to speed on the legends of those old worlds, her race of Amazons, and hinted at other threats that she knew of. She recounted as much history as she could. Clark soaked it all in.
Then she had followed the Bat Man to Gothem City once the team had disbanded. It was none of Clark's business what those two were up to, but he couldn't help grinning to himself as he saw them walk off together, brushing fingers ever so coyly. Just as well; maybe they would be good for each other. He had definitely picked up a spark somewhere there. Hell, the Bat Man could use some cheering up and it couldn't hurt to have a demigod watching his back.
The Cyborg kid had disappeared also, licking his wounds, so to say and nodding his thanks. Aquaman slipped back into the ocean. Clark had only first impressions to go on, but he sensed Aquaman had a big ego and it was a wonder the ocean was large enough to hold it.
Clark was feeling much more himself this past week, after being resurrected so violently, a process he still had mixed feelings about. Bruce and his hair-brained ideas…using the Genesis Chamber, seriously! Still, at the end of the day Clark preferred being alive. He had a strange, numb feeling and dark dreams of that time being in death's embrace.
He had shaken that off, even forced himself to loosen up a little and had some fun accepting a bet by that fast kid, Barry. They started a race from coast to coast, starting at the East Coast. He had humored the Flash for a while, letting the race be close, but as the Pacific Ocean came into view, Clark had put on a burst of speed and beat him. Well, kids these days, they can't get everything they wanted, or they would get spoiled. While Clark had considered the race a bit of fun, Flash went off sulking somewhere like a sore loser. But when Clark tuned in to the Flash right now, he knew the kid was safe in Metropolis, talking the ear off of some poor barista in a coffee shop twenty miles away.
Clark abruptly came out of his relaxing reverie as his ears picked up a tight change in the TV reporter's voice. She was now cutting over to a story happening now. An ugly looking winged metal creature was running on roofs and crashing through buildings, causing general havoc. No…wait, it was fashioned quite like those Parademons he had recently wrestled with.
Clark sighed and set his coffee down, being careful not to crush the delicate little ceramic cup in his strong grip.
"Lois?" he strode a few steps toward the bathroom and poked his head in the door. She was sitting, fully clothed, on the edge of the bathtub and struggling to pull pantyhose onto her shapely legs.
"Yes?" she looked up, assessed his face and registered he had some news even before he mentioned the trouble.
"I've got to go. Another one of those annoying metal creatures is loose in the city. Can't imagine why. Be careful riding to work." He said, his dark eyebrows coming down and his jaw set hard.
"Ok Clark." She jumped up and nearly tripped over her tangled legs, still trying to get the nylons on. He saved her the trouble of standing as he crushed her to his chest and hugged her tightly. Then he set her down. "You be safe too!" she called after him as he walked out of the room. "I just got you back, remember?"
Clark smiled and stripped off his shirt and jeans, draping them over the back of the couch as he walked through the living room. His gray-blue Krypton suit, complete with vibrant red cape was underneath. His second skin. His constant and comfortable reminder of the planet he was from and the legacy he represented. Clark opened the glass doors to Lois' third floor apartment balcony and blasted up into the bright blue sky.
It was a great day for flying. Well, it was a great day everyday now that he was alive—again, he supposed. Still, the warmth of Earth's yellow sun feeding and nourishing his Kryptonian cells felt like a close friend, and as he flew he lifted his face to that light to soak more of it in.
As Clark approached the center of the city, his sharp eyes zeroed in on that annoying perpetrator, which was now half flying, half jumping across roofs, still causing destruction of property. He streaked through the sky like a bullet. The closer he got, the more righteous anger flared deep within his chest.
"I'll make this quick." He growled to himself. Just another typical day cleaning up messes. He was tired of seeing these metal creatures though, especially so soon after he and the Justice League had just dealt with them. They should have all vanished with Steppenwolf…
The Parademon finally spotted Superman. It threw back its head, letting out a long, piercing metallic scream that grated on his ultra-sensitive ears. Clark grimaced and was just thinking that the creature wasn't the only thing calling him out of hiding today when a whole swarm of them rose up from the streets.
Damn. How had so many survived? There had to be at least 200. Why hadn't they all been sucked up into Steppenwolf's portal? Attracted to Steppenwolf's defeated fear? He wondered briefly if the other members of the Justice League might be tuning in to this situation through whatever means they monitored trouble, as he dove down, fist raised. Superman clobbered the first Parademon into pieces of scattered metal. The rest of the swarm moved in, screeching like a bunch of rusty banshees as they lunged toward him. Ok, so the battle was going to take place on top of….a P&CC Production company building. Clark scanned the length of the building with his eyes, his X-ray vision, and was relieved to see that there were only a couple of humans moving around the lower floor. It was Saturday after all. Fine. He would get this over with quickly.
Clark dodged and darted and swung, never landing on the building, but flying through the swarm of metal creatures, in, out and around them, annihilating them with his powerful fists. He was just warming to his theme when he saw a flash of emerald green and felt the sizzling prick of pain as the glowing tip of Kryptonite pierced his alien skin.
Clark grimaced as he looked down at the three inch long shard protruding from his left bicep. He yanked it out angrily and threw the piece of poison far away from him even as another shard sunk into his lower back. He spun around, roaring his frustration as he assessed the situation. A select few of the Parademons were outfitted with green Kryptonite claws! Who had done this?
This was quickly looking like a trap. A trap laid just for him by someone devious enough to lure him in.