Chapter 12: The Chill of a Familiar Face

A long silence followed Lois's harshly-spoken statement. "You don't mean that," the Green Arrow finally said in a choked voice that cut through the tension that had fallen in the room.

"Why not?" she demanded angrily as she crossed her arms over her chest and set her jaw at a stubborn angle. "Why can't I mean it?" When he didn't answer her, she demanded fiercely, "Tell me! Tell me why I can't hate him!"

She honestly didn't know if she was trying to argue the point with him or actually begging him for an answer, and she watched as slowly, he reached up and brushed his gloved fingertips against the side of his sunglasses. After a moment, he dropped his hand to his side again and said, "You guys…you were friends."

For a second, she was tempted to beat him over the head with something, but instead, she pressed her palms to her eyes and sighed heavily. "Friends…," she moaned a bit pitifully, and when she dropped her hands to her sides, she looked up at him with wet eyes. "Clark was my best friend," she whispered in a pained voice. "I never realized…" Biting her lip, her gaze skittered away from his face as she crossed her arms over her chest and hugged them tight against her body. "Why is it so hard to let him go? Why does it hurt so much to lose something I never had?"

She knew her companion could have no way of understanding what she was talking about, but he didn't demand an answer. Instead, he cleared his throat and approached her, his movements slow and deliberate, like those of a man approached a tiger that might turn and attack at any moment. "Lois," he began, but before he could continue, she turned and looked searchingly up into his face again, as if begging him for answers to a question she knew he couldn't pretend to understand.

In two long strides, she was right in front of him, and she wrapped her fingers around his biceps and pulled him closer. "Help me forget him," she whispered. It hurt to ask such a thing, but, then, it hurt more to have to.

"Lois, I'm so sorry," Green Arrow murmured, and he sounded so sincere, she almost believed he was. He looked like he wanted to say more, but she didn't give him a chance. His concern would do her no good, and she didn't want his pity.

Instead, before he could say anything else, she took a step closer to him. She was surprised when he responded by wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close, as if trying to offer her comfort. But there was no comfort for her, at least not by him. The only person she wanted to turn to for solace was the one person who no longer had the capacity to offer it. Wincing at the thought, she almost changed her mind and pulled away from the man before her, but then he held her like he cherished her and her fingers convulsed, digging into his biceps. "I don't want to feel like this anymore," she admitted in a broken whisper. Then, before she had a chance to think about what she was about to do and run the risk that she might reconsider her actions, she kissed him.

She had kissed him before, she remembered. Convinced that the Green Arrow was secretly her then-boyfriend, Oliver Queen, Lois had plotted with Clark to set up an elaborate scheme to put her theory to the test. Rather mortifyingly, she had discovered that Oliver wasn't, in fact, the Green Arrow and that she'd kissed a complete stranger, but she'd consoled herself with the thought that at least he'd been a damn good kisser.

"Lois!" the Green Arrow cried as he broke off the kiss. "I –"

But she wasn't listening. Letting out a strangled cry, she pulled back, whirling away from him. "Damn it!" she scream, storming a few feet away. "I can't…why…Why is he haunting me?" Turning back around to face him, she cried, "I can't stop thinking about…he's everywhere! Do you have any idea what that's like? Every time I turn around…everywhere I go…he's there and I just…I can't take it anymore! I feel like…I feel like I'm losing my mind, and I can't bear it! I can't seem to escape him! Even when I kiss you, I…"

She broke off, pressing her palms to her eyes. Her shoulders bowed in defeat and began to shake with the force of the sobs she refused to let loose. "I wish I could find a way to hate him," she admitted in a ragged whisper. "Because then maybe I could find a way to live with myself for having killed him."


"Oh, my god," Clark cried aloud in response to her words. It was too much. He had been standing in impotent silence, trying to find the words to tell her that he was alive. He'd wanted to break the news to her gently, to beg for her forgiveness as he explained everything to her in a way that would soften the shock of his news. He'd been trying to find a way to tell her without losing her.

But now, hearing her words, he realized he couldn't take it any longer. He still hadn't thought of the right words to explain things to her, but maybe there weren't words for a situation like this. Maybe he'd never come up with a way to tell her the truth about himself without hurting her in the process. He had to tell her now, even at the risk of losing her, because regardless of the potential consequences to himself, he could bear to see her in pain no longer.

In a quick move, he ripped his sunglasses off and tore back the hood to his jacket. "Lois, look at me," he demanded, but she didn't even lower her hands so he tried again, taking a couple tentative steps toward her. "Please…Lois…look at me. I…You didn't kill me!" As he finished speaking, Lois looked up and stared straight into his face. Then she let out a shriek, and though he doubted she could hear him – or was listening – he continued, "I'm so sorry; I never meant to hurt you. But I'm not dead."

He saw the blood drain from her face as she paled suddenly, and it was only due to his extraordinary speed that he was able to reach her side and catch her as, for the first time in all the years he'd known her, Lois fainted.


Lois moaned softly as her eyes fluttered open. "Clark?" she whimpered. Levering up onto her elbows, she looked blearily around, the expression on her face clearly indicating that she expected to find herself alone.

But, no, he was there, at the foot of the couch upon which he had gently placed her after her faint. When she caught sight of him gazing sadly at her, she gasped, her eyes widening in shock. "Clark?" she repeated, this time in a whisper of disbelief. "I-Am I imagining things?"

Clark sighed heavily. "It's me, Lois," he assured her gently. "You aren't imagining anything." The words hadn't finished leaving his mouth before Lois was scrambling forward, hurling her body against his chest with a force that took him by surprise, almost unbalancing him from his perch on the arm of the sofa. When she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in his neck, he could feel her body's trembling and the ragged breath fanning against his skin, and he tightened the hold he hand on her, bringing her close. He knew the moment wouldn't last, but while he had her in his arms – and before he was faced with the consequences of his stupidity – he savored the moment.

His hands trembled where he'd splayed them across her back, and his eyes shut automatically as he inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of her hair and skin, the brush of her breath against his neck, the familiar fit of her body against his own.

"Clark! Oh my god, Clark!" she was saying, repeating is name over and over like a mantra. Finally, she pulled away slightly, though not far enough that he was forced to release his hold on her. Framing his face with her palms, she stared intently into his eyes. "Is it really you?"

He offered her a small, reassuring smile. "It's really me."

Her eyes roved quickly over his face as if she was trying to memorize every feature. "But…I don't understand…I saw…" Clark's first instinct was to stay her hand when she reached for the zipper to his jacket, but he resisted the urge to do so. He knew Lois; she wanted to know the truth – needed to know it – and she wouldn't stop until she had it. Besides, he had already resolved himself to telling her everything, so it didn't matter if he broached the subject or if he allowed her to do so in her own fashion.

With a hard tug, Lois undid the zipper, causing the two panels of green leather to part. Clark held his breath as he waited, his eyes never leaving Lois's face as she stared avidly at the bare skin she was slowly revealing. When the jacket was fully unzipped, she pulled it open and stared at the unmarred flesh of his chest.

Clark sucked in a sharp breath when she trailed her fingertips gently across the area where his wound had been. He might have saved himself the effort, however, when Lois looked up into his face a moment later and the tightness in his chest made it impossible to breathe. "But you were shot!" she cried, not removing her hand from its position on Clark's chest. "I…I saw it! You were shot, and you bled to de- I saw the wound!"

Through the tightness in his chest, Clark managed a deep breath. This wasn't going to be easy, of that he had no doubt. "I know how hard this is to believe, Lois, but…I healed. When I was in the warehouse, I was…"

In the next moment, before he could finish, Lois placed both palms against his chest and shoved hard, throwing her weight backwards. By the time he realized he should reach out to stop her, it was too late; she was out of his reach. When he glanced at her face in surprise, his heart twisted. She looked terrified as she scrambled over the armrest at the far end of the sofa, landing hard on the floor on the other side.

With the entire length of the sofa between them, Clark watched as her gaze shot desperately around the room as if searching for something. "Who are you really? What are you?" she demanded harshly. Rising slowly to his feet, he moved to approach her, but he paused when she shifted her stance into a defensive position. "Stay back! I'm warning you; don't come any closer!"

"Lois, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you. I just need to explain…" he began reassuringly, but she cut him off.

"Are you a clone?" she demanded.

Thrown by the sudden question, Clark paused and asked in bewilderment, "What?"

She didn't seem to be taken aback by his surprise. "A clone! Are you a clone? Or a…a…" she stammered, clearly wracking her brain. "A shapeshifter? Are you a…do you have meteor powers?" she demanded, her eyes locked searchingly on his face.

That was when Clark made a grave mistake. For two days, he'd longed to hold the woman in front of him. He'd wanted to comfort her, to confess everything to her, to protect her from further harm. And now, having her in front of him, the bruises on her face standing out in sharp relief against her complexion that had gone suddenly pale the moment he'd removed his sunglasses and hadn't yet recovered its color, he found it impossible to stay still and keep his distance. So he took a step toward her, and his ill-advised movement galvanized her into action.

"No!" she screamed, and he ducked instinctively when Lois grabbed an object and threw it at his head as, in a fluid motion, she whirled and bolted toward the exit. The woman who Clark could have pictured going toe-to-toe with the Devil turned and fled at the very sight of Clark's face, and he grimaced at the realization of how much he had to have hurt her to elicit such an uncharacteristic reaction.

"Lois!" he cried, darting after the woman who was bolting down the stairs. When she lost her footing and stumbled down a few steps, he heard her yelp as she reached out with her right hand and stayed her fall, wrenching her already injured shoulder. Though Clark wanted to race to catch her, he'd learned his lesson and realized he was going to have to give her space. Plus, he worried that any more sudden revelations might give her a heart attack. So, instead of following after her like he wanted to, Clark stayed at the top of the landing and called down to her, "You love it when it rains!"

She paused on the landing below and turned slowly to face him, momentarily delaying her mad dash down the final few steps to safety. "What?" she asked softly.

"You love it when it rains," he repeated more quietly. "You particularly love thunderstorms." She didn't believe he was who he claimed to be, so he was going to have to prove it to her. When she stood in silence, staring at him, he shifted his weight to lean heavily against the railing and continued, "You…you always think of your mom when it snows, because she used to make you a mug of hot cocoa with marshmallows when you came in from the cold." He was on a roll now, and he couldn't seem to keep himself from furthering his list.

"You have a scar on your right elbow that you got when you were six years old and Steven Dorsey bet your sister she was too scared to climb to the very top of a tree. She tried and got stuck, and you went after her. But you scraped your arm on a nail driven into one of the branches when you were climbing back down, bad enough that it required stitches." She had turned to face him fully now, so he took a tentative step toward her, gauging her reaction as he did so. Though her expression wavered a bit, she didn't bolt, so he stepped down to the top step and continued.

"As soon as you made it down, you walked up to Steven Dorsey and punched him in the nose." He took another step down. "The General grounded you for a week, and Steven Dorsey tried to steal a kiss from you on the playground a few months later."

Another step. "You show this tight, forced smile to the rest of the world, but when you're with friends or people you care about, your smile…it's the most beautiful…it's breathtaking."

And then he was standing in front of her. Almost whispering, he concluded his litany, "You claim not to have a romantic bone in your body, but you cry when you watch sappy movies. You dream of dancing in the arms of…of dancing with the man you love. When you turned twelve, your father sent you a dozen roses with a note that said that even though he knew he wouldn't be the last, he wanted to be the first man to give his girl a dozen roses. And even though you later discovered that one of the Army wives put him up to it, you're still waiting to get those flowers from somebody else. Except that you don't want roses, you want lilies because they…"

"Clark," she said softly, and somehow that one little word was enough to silence him. But, then again, he'd never heard anyone say his name the way she did, and I wasn't until relatively recently that he realized he didn't want to.

"It's really you! I-I can't believe it! But how…?" she demanded, and she was touching him again, running her fingers over the planes of his face, across his leather-clad shoulders, down his bare chest.

Trapping one hand beneath his own, he held it tight to his bare chest, feeling a jolt of surprise as his stomach tightened at the warmth of skin against his own. "I'll explain everything to you, Lois, but it's complicated. Maybe you should sit down while I explain it." And then, with her hand in his, he lead her back up the stairs to the couch and waited for her to get comfortable before he began.

Perching on the far end of the couch, Clark angled his body to face hers. When he met her eyes, he took a deep breath to brace himself and said, "Lois, in the warehouse, I did get shot, but I…I didn't…I healed before the explosion."

"So…you're like Chloe, then?" she asked in confusion. "You've been affected by the meteor rocks? You heal quickly?" She looked so concerned for his welfare, the expression on her face made her thoughts so evident, it was almost as if he could almost read her mind. She thought he just discovered his meteor abilities, and so she was probably also convinced he was confused and a little afraid about everything that had happened. His suspicion was confirmed when she grabbed his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "It's okay, Clark. We'll figure this out. I know this has to be pretty scary for you right now, but…"

He couldn't take her concern any longer, not when he knew it wasn't deserved. "No, Lois…you don't understand. I'm not…I haven't been affected by the meteor rocks – at least not the way you think." She was looking at him in confusion again, but he couldn't bear to look in his eyes as he continued. He wasn't sure he could stand to see her reaction; what if she looked at him in revulsion? Letting his gaze fall to the ground, he explained awkwardly, "I'm…um…I'm an alien."

A heavy silence fell as soon as the words left his mouth and he winced. When he finally raised his eyes to meet Lois's again, he saw that she had a peculiar expression on her face. Her head was tilted to the side, and she found him with a perplexed look as the corners of her lips twitched with what appeared to be a poorly disguised mirth. Finally, she spoke, "Good one, Smallville. You know, I can imagine it's gotta be a little weird to find out you have special abilities, but that's no reason to jump to the conclusion that you're from a whole different planet. This one's strange enough."

Clark frowned and swallowed heavily. "It's true," he said simply. She still seemed skeptical, so he offered, "I can do things!" That sounded lame, even to his own ears. "I mean, I have abilities. There are a lot of things I can do that other people can't."

Now she looked frankly bemused. "Like heal yourself?" she suggested.

"No. Well, yes. I mean, I guess. In a way. It's…it's the Sun. My powers…those things that I can do…they come from the Sun." He was explaining the entire situation badly, he knew, and he groaned. No wonder she seemed to think humoring him was the best policy.

Maybe he'd do a better job with a demonstration instead of an explanation. "Come on," he said, standing abruptly and offering her his hand. "I'll show you." After a second, she placed her hand in his and allowed him to help her to her feet, a skeptical expression still marking her features. Before she even had time to settle her weight, he scooped her into his arms, lifting her weight easily.

"Woah, there, Sparky! You're getting a little..uh…familiar there, aren't you?" she yelped, though she wrapped her arms around his neck as she did so. "I really think you should put me down now!"

"I don't think that's a good idea," he replied gravely. "If I let you go now, you'd probably get hurt." With a small nod, he indicated the ground beneath his feet. Only it wasn't beneath his feet any longer, and when Lois realized that, she let out a strangled shriek and clutched him tighter. When he saw the incredulous look she shot him, he forestalled her protest by saying, "It's not a trick, Lois. I can fly. I'm strong, I'm fast, and I can hear someone sneezing on the other side of town." As he spoke, he floated back to the ground and placed her gently on her feet. Her arms stayed around his neck, however, and he wondered if that was intentional or if she'd merely forgotten she'd been clinging to him in her understandable shock over his revelations. "And I'm pretty much invulnerable."

"Then how did you…?" she began before her voice trailed off.

With a sad smile, he explained, "There is one thing that makes me vulnerable, that can kill me, and that's radioactive pieces of my home world. My planet – Krypton – it's gone. Those pieces of rock are all that's left."

"The meteor rock," she murmured as comprehension dawned.

With a nod, he confirmed her guess. "I came here in the first meteor shower, and Mom and Dad found me and raised me as their own. Lois, that day at the warehouse, there were green meteor rocks nearby. Kryptonite. That's why I seemed to be sick and why the bullet managed to penetrate my skin. I almost died."

She was biting her lip now as she mulled it over, and very slowly, she removed her arms from around his neck and ran her palms down his still-bare chest. "So…these last couple of days…you've been…recovering?" she asked thoughtfully.

The moment he'd been dreading had arrived, but his gaze didn't waver from hers as he said, "When I've been exposed to Kryptonite, I usually heal almost instantly as soon as I get away from it."

He could almost see the moment Lois filled in the blanks and realization dawned. All expression drained from her face and she fixed him with a stony glare. "So…where have you been, Clark? You had to have known I would be…that is, that Chloe and I would be…oh, god! Chloe!"

Struck by the sudden thought, Lois shot to her feet and whirled on him. "Okay, I don't begin to pretend that I understand what's going on here; it's a lot to take in. But, Clark, you have to tell Chloe that you're alive!" Clark opened his mouth to speak, but she steamrolled him. "No! No arguments! I get why you'd want to keep your particular…uh…situation secret, but she's one of your best friends and you've known each other for years! You have to tell her the truth!"

Stepping forward, Clark rested his palms on her shoulders and said reassuringly, "It's okay, Lois. Chloe already knows."

He felt her shoulders heave with a heavy sigh. "Oh, thank god. I can't imagine how she…it had to be such a shock. Is she okay? Maybe I should go check on her. Do you think she took the news okay?"

She sounded so concerned, Clark wanted to reassure her, but he didn't know how. Lois was going to be upset, and there was probably not going to be any chance to avoid hurting her further without compounding his lies. At the same time, he wished there was a way he could prevent her from the hurt that would come when she realized everyone she loved had lied to her. So he stared at her in silence as he tried to find the perfect words.

Unfortunately, Lois knew him too well, because he never got the chance. She was staring intently into his face, and something in his expression must have revealed more than he'd intended because she sucked in a sharp breath and demanded in a low voice, "Clark, when did Chloe find out you were alive?"

"We never meant to hurt you, Lois!" he blurted in a feeble attempt to soften the blow.

She placed her palms on his chest and gave him a firm shove as she simultaneously stepped out of his reach, increasing the distance between them. "When?" she demanded again.

He tried once more. "As crazy as it sounds, we thought we were…we just wanted to protect you!"

"Clark, when?" she cried fiercely, her eyes flashing.

Unable to delay any longer, Clark confessed. "Chloe met my mom and I at the airport a few minutes after you called from the hospital. That was when I told her everything that had happened at the warehouse." After a brief pause, he added, "She's known my secret for a few years now."

When Clark finished speaking, he braced himself for the fallout. He could imagine her reacting in several different ways – most of them less than encouraging. He expected her to be angry and hurt. He didn't expect her to laugh.

But that's what she did. Wrapping her arms around her waist, she doubled over as she gave in to the hysterical peals of laughter. "She knew!" she wheezed through her guffaws. "All this time…!"

He didn't fool himself for a moment into thinking she wasn't hurt or angry. This was just her first reaction, the calm before the storm. "We didn't want to lie to you, Lois," he said loud enough for his voice to carry over her renewed chuckles. "You have to understand, we had reason – have reason – to believe that your life is in danger. You'd already been through so much, we didn't want to put you in any more danger than you're already in! I knew you'd be upset…"

"Upset?" she barked, her laughter cut abruptly short as she straightened suddenly, her eyes flashing with undisguised anger. "Now why would I be upset?"

No, looking at her face, Clark realized that he'd been wrong. Lois wasn't angry. She was livid. Unequivocally furious. "I…uh…I know this is a lot to take in, but…"

"Oh, do you?" she spat, crossing her arms over her chest. "And which part is it, exactly, that you think I'm having trouble accepting? That my best friend is from Neptune?" Clark decided now wasn't the moment to correct her. "Or do you think it's maybe possible that the shock of finding evidence of alien life on Earth has been ever so narrowly surpassed by the realization that my best friend let me think he was dead?" Her voice rose to a shrill scream.

Lois stood before him, panting slightly, her body trembling with rage. There was absolutely nothing he could do to make her feel better. When he'd made the decision to keep the truth from her, he'd known she was going to be hurt when she eventually found out what he'd done – and it had never been his intention to keep the truth from her indefinitely. Still, though he'd known there would be repercussions, at the time, he'd made the determination that her safety was more important. In that respect, he couldn't regret his decision; he'd do anything he had to in order to keep her from harm. In the present moment, however, he recognized that this justification was hardly likely to sway her. There was absolutely nothing he could do save to say sincerely, "I'm sorry."

"Well, why don't you say so? That makes it all better!" she snarled.

Though he knew it wouldn't make any difference right now, Clark tried once again to explain, "We…I found out that there were…there was reason to believe the two men from the warehouse were trying to find you. I thought your life might be in danger. You can hate me now, Lois, but I did what I thought I had to do to keep you safe. We have no idea who was behind Peter William's murder, and I didn't think they knew for sure that it was you in that warehouse, but I suspected you were being watched. I didn't want to do anything to draw any more attention to you than was absolutely necessary."

She was silent for a moment. "You do realize that's a load of crap, don't you?" she finally asked in a surprisingly mild tone. It didn't last long. "You lied to me to protect me? That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard! How was keeping the fact that you've been alive this whole time supposed to protect me?"

When she put it like that, it did sound kind of stupid, but it was easier to criticize his decisions in retrospect. At the time, faced with the prospect of putting her in greater danger, he'd done the only thing he could think of to keep her safe. "I know it doesn't make a lot of sense now, but at the time…" he began before she cut him off.

"You think?" she snarled sarcastically.

Clark was growing desperate. He felt like she was slipping through his fingers, like if he didn't get through to her now, he might not ever be able to do so. "Lois, what do you want me to say? What can I do to convince you that I never wanted to hurt you; I just wanted to protect you!"

She sounded bewildered as she repeated, "What can you say? What can you say? You don't get to fix this, Clark! You can't just say you're sorry and make everything okay! Do you get that? Do you get that I thought you were dead?

"I thought you died! I thought I had killed you! Do you have any idea what that feels like? I thought…I thought…" she broke off with a sob, which she stifled by covering her face with her hands.

"I thought I'd lost you," she said finally, her voice flat and emotionless as she pulled her hands away. "But how can you lose something you never had? I thought you were my best friend…but I never really knew you at all, did I?"

She moved to brush past him, clearly intending to leave, and Clark decided to make one more desperate attempt to get her to listen to him. "Lois, please…" he said, reaching for her hand.

"Don't touch me!" she cried suddenly, giving his hand a sharp slap before he could lay it on her arm. "You don't get to touch me!"

With reluctance, Clark slowly pulled his hand away and repeated in a pained murmur, "Lois…please…you're my best friend, and I know I made a mistake but I don't want to lose you."

At the head of the staircase, Lois paused and turned to look at him once more. "We're not friends, Clark. I don't know that we ever have been. I don't care if you're from Metropolis or Mars. I do care that you…you let me think you were dead. You had to know what that would do to me, and you let me do it anyway. Do you have any idea…? I would never have done that to you, Clark. Never. As your friend, I never would have put you through that. But you could. You did. And now you want me to forgive you for it and pretend everything's okay? I'm sorry, Clark, but I just don't work that way.

Before she turned to leave for good, she said earnestly, "I'm glad you're alive, Clark. But I never want to see you again."