A/N: Thanks to everyone for their awesome comments on the last chapter. It was a difficult one to write, so I'm pleased that everyone liked it:) Things are really starting to move quickly now, so I can't wait to read what you think about these next few...

Special mention - beam me up: since you posted as an anonymous reviewer, I was unable to respond to your very detailed and interesting review. It was spot on in many ways, I'd really like to send you a longer reply, so next time, log in and I'll be able to do just that ;)

Okay, though not as long as the last chapter, I hope you all like this one :)

Chapter 12 – Twisted

Sunday, November 13, 2011 – 03:51

Lois was running. Fast. Down an endless corridor, passing distorted reflections of herself, mocking her from the mirrors which lined the walls. She was running towards the green light and the end of the corridor, towards the shrill cry of a baby and the shatter of glass. Suddenly, the room appeared before her. She charged inside, ready to fight, to do what needed to be done. But he was already on the ground, his chest covered in blood. Behind him, stood his reflection, not recoiling in pain but reaching out for her, desperately trying to grab her hand. "Clark, hold on," she yelled. "Just hold on. I won't let anything happen to you." She reached towards him but he began to fade, slowly, slowly until he resembled a spectre, a memory of what was. "NO!" she yelled, trying again and again to grip onto his incorporeal frame. "Stay with me," Lois cried, tears now running down her cheeks. "Stay with me!"

"LOIS!"

She bolted up, the sound of her name ringing in her ears along with the echo of her own scream. "Lois, are you okay?" Clark wrapped his arm around her and drew her close. "You're trembling. What's wrong?"

She blinked in the dark, trying to orient herself. She turned to Clark and buried her face in his chest, revelling in the secure, solid warmth. "I-I had the dream again," she whispered. "The one where I can't get to you in time and you're shot and then...you leave me."

"Shh," he soothed, running his fingers through her hair. "It wasn't real."

"Clark," she looked up at him. "It felt real. You were fading away and I couldn't...I couldn't-"

He took her hand guided it to his face then to his heart. "See? I'm here. I'm safe. And I'm not going anywhere - you're stuck with me, Lane," he said in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Besides, after all that champagne you drank at dinner I'm not surprised your brain's rebelling."

"I guess that fifth glass was a bad idea," she agreed.

Clark chuckled. "As far an engagement parties go, I think ours was a hit. I mean, you didn't even feel the need to stand up and give an inappropriate speech of any kind. That's progress."

"I think my father took care of that," she said, cringing at the memory of the General telling everyone how pleased and relieved he was that Lois found a nice young man to settle down with rather than getting knocked up by one of those scumbags she would bring home as a teenager.

Clark yawned and Lois nuzzled her face in his neck; breathing in the smell of her berry soap she'd lathered him with during their shower earlier. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"It's okay," he replied, lightly kissing the top of her head. "Hey, you want me to heat up some milk for you? I can make it the way you like with honey."

"Thanks, Smallville, but I think I'm good." She snuggled closer against him. "Can we just lie here for while? Just like this?"

Clark tightened his hold on her. "Yeah, we can do that."

Lois closed her eyes and let herself be enveloped by her fiancé, safe in the knowledge that he wasn't going anywhere soon.

Sunday, November 13, 2018 – 13:22

"Let me go!"

"You're not going anywhere, Miss Lane. At least not anytime soon." Jordan Twist circled the chair that Lois was tied to. He watched her fight against the ropes and chuckled lightly. "Don't bother. Those are made with titanium thread. Even your husband would have to strain a little to get those off."

"W-what does Clark have to do with this?" Lois asked.

"Please don't insult me. Superman may have the world fooled with his mild-mannered reporter cover, but a Kryptonian always knows his own kind."

"Kryptonian," Lois echoed. "Who are you?"

"I believe the more accurate question would be what am I? Currently, I am human, or at least in possession of a human vessel." He held out his hands and turned them over, studying them intently. "I find Jordan Twist to be an adequate host. His brain capacity exceeded my expectations, which is something which rarely occurs on this miserable planet. In my purest form, I am artificial intelligence, an assembly of Kryptonian nanotechnology." Twist, or what used to be Twist crouched in front of Lois. "Forgive me; I forget that your limited mental ability finds it difficult to comprehend this technological jargon. Simply put, I am what your husband and his merry band of heroes refer to as the Brain Interactive Construct."

"You're Brainiac," Lois breathed.

"Spot on, Miss Lane. We never did have the pleasure of meeting during my previous encounters with those near and dear to you. It's about time, don't you think."

"What I think, is that if you don't let me go, Superman is going to kick your artificially intelligent ass all the way back to whatever flash drive you crawled out of. Tell me, how many times has he defeated you again? Seems to me that someone with your great intellect would have figured out a way to beat him by now."

Twist's eye twitched at her comment. "On this pathetic excuse for a planet, brawn has been known to overpower brains."

"Or maybe he's just managed to outsmart you. Time and time again." Twist's hand was suddenly around her throat, fingers threatening to tighten. Lois gulped.

"There is nothing and no-one more intelligent than I. Not human nor program and certainly not Krypton's bastard son. I do not take lightly to your insinuation." Slowly, he released his hold.

"I could scream," she said hoarsely. "He'd be here in a second and you'll be sorry that you ever-" she stopped short when Twist reached for the crystal star on his desk and tapped it twice. Suddenly, it turned from clear crystal to green rock.

"Neat isn't it? I invented it myself. I call it Morphamite. A property capable of mimicking any substance from any of the known galaxies. Gold, titanium, hydrodox...kryptonite. It's been very useful for replenishing Mr. Twist's vaults after his financers backed out. Then again, they proved useful too. Although I was quite disappointed to find out that the cranial fluid of the obscenely rich measured no differently to that of the common vagrant. Pity."

"You killed those government officials," Lois surmised.

"Well technically, Thomas Vartel killed them. But I plotted their demise, yes, just like I plotted the wonderful way in which this is all playing out. How is your daughter by the way?"

"You sonofabitch!" she yelled, kicking and writhing in the chair in an attempt to cause Twist some serious harm. "You did this. You're behind it all. Why?"

Twist gave a little self-satisfied laugh. "Finally, Miss Lane, you ask the question I've been waiting for. Why." He leaned back against his desk and appraised her for a second. "I found the brain of Jordan Twist to be littered with all kinds of useful information," he began. "You see, after years on your planet, I never quite understood the concept of popular culture until my possession of Mr. Twist. He was what some might crudely call a 'geek' although there was a certain genius behind his social retardation. See, I've been studying Jordan Twist's rather extensive collection of Digital Versatile Disks, particularly those entitled 'James Bond'." Twist smiled in remembrance. "Though utterly implausible and heinously unrealistic, I found them to be surprisingly informative. What struck me was consistent propensity of the antagonist to confess his master plan before its culmination. This I found was the major flaw in the plot. So to answer your question, Lois would be very foolish of me, and I am not known for being foolish."

"For someone so dead set on not saying anything, you sure talk a lot." Lois' eyes darted to the office door. "Also, I think if you paid a little more attention to those films, you'd know that despite how much they say or don't say, the bad guys always lose."

Suddenly, the door burst open, as Zatanna and Dinah rushed in. "Dnuob Tuohtiw Epacse!"

Before Twist could react, the ropes around Lois untangled themselves and flew towards Twist, binding him tightly. Zatanna raised her finger towards him, causing him to levitate.

"You think you've won?" he yelled, fighting against the chains. "This is far from-"

"Piz Ti!" Zatanna yelled and suddenly a layer of skin began to grow over Twist's mouth, rendering speech impossible. "That's better, she said with a satisfied nod. Dinah ran over to Lois.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she said straightening her clothing. "Peachy. Nice to have the backup though," she looked at Zatanna. "How'd you know that would work?"

Zatanna shrugged. "Clark's susceptible to magic so we figured Twist's Kryptonian make-up would be too." She looked over at the struggling figure. "Guess we were right."

"So you know that he's-"

"Brainiac," Dinah finished. "Zee saw your little interaction on the security monitors while entertaining Larry."

We would have come earlier, but we thought we'd see how much he'd say before-"

"You saved my skin," Lois interjected with a wry smile.

"Something like that." Dinah looked over at Twist and narrowed her eyes. "So what now?"

"Now," Lois said looking the Morphamite rock, "We call the boys."

Sunday, November 13, 2009 – 13:37

"Okay, now arms up."

Cira stretched her arms above her head as if she were trying to touch the ceiling.

Clark stared at her intently as he x-rayed her body, from fingertips to toes.

"Hey Daddy, when we're done with yogurt, can we look for Bernie some more?" she asked turning around glancing back at Clark.

"Sure," he said, not really listening. "Whatever you want, sweetheart."

Cira sighed and dropped her arms. "I'm tired now and I think there's a bug crawling on my knee. Daddy, I want cotton candy. Can we get some? Where's grandma? Is she visiting Mr. Hubbard again? Cause last time you got all quiet and Mommy had to go talk to you in the car. She said you were thinkin' bout Grampa Jonathan. She said sometimes you get sad cause he can't play with you anymore." Cira put her little hands on Clark's cheeks and looked him in the eye. "I'm glad you're here to play with me, Daddy. Can we call Grandma? I want to show her my penguin. "

The few sentences that he was able to make sense of almost made his heart stop. His mother and Ben Hubbard? It couldn't be...could it? He decided that Cira must have been confused. He picked her up and held her high above his head, eliciting a squeal of delight. "I'm glad I'm here to play with you too, Cira." He brought her down and set her on the floor. "I'm so glad I got to meet you," he said, crouching down in front of her. She wriggled her nose at him playfully.

"I'm glad I got to meet you to."

She glanced up as Lois came down the stairs, fresh from the shortest shower of her life. "Mommy, yogurt is hard," she complained. "Uncle Ollie said it makes you strong but it made my arms feel like spaghetti."

"It's called yoga, not yogurt, Tinkerbelle."

Cira frowned. "Nah-uh. I think you're confused, Mommy. You should check your facts," she said decidedly.

Clark, still crouched on the ground looked up at her and bit back a chuckle. "That's rule number 6, Lois."

Lois slapped the back of Clark's head. "I guess we can be grateful she inherited my journalistic talents and not yours, Smallville. So, is she clean?"

He nodded. "Yeah, there's nothing on her."

She held out Cira's dress. "What about this?"

Clark took it from her and held it out. Lois watched as his eyes travelled over the material as if seeing right through it. "There," he said softly. He placed his fingers in the lacy collar and removed a tiny silver bead embedded in the material.

"That's it?" Lois asked, glancing over his shoulder. "Are you sure it isn't just a big piece of lint?"

Clark held it between his thumb and forefinger. "I can see the mechanisms inside. Give me your hand."

She eyed him cautiously. "It isn't going to explode or anything is it?"

"Future Chloe said it's harmless unless you're time-travelling. Come on, feel this."

Lois extended her hand, wondering why that sentence seemed so normal. Clark took her hand and placed the tiny ball in her palm.

"It's vibrating," she said softly. "Weird." She looked up to see Clark watching her with what she could only describe as 'the Clark Kent puppy dog eyes'.

"Yeah, weird."

Lois bit her lip and looked down shyly. A casual observer would find it hard to believe that it was less than twenty minutes before that they were tearing at each other's clothing in an attempt to get naked. A strange tension seemed to settle between them, as neither knew quite how to proceed.

"I don't get it," Lois remarked, as the temporal disturbance detector rolled back into Clark's palm.

"Don't get what?"

"This. The fact that it was this easy. I mean, what's the point of attaching this thing to her if all we had to do was find it and remove it?"

Clark looked back at Cira who had resumed colouring in her pink penguin.

"I'm starting to think that sending her here, that all this is part something bigger. I don't know what it is yet, but Chloe said they're working on it. Or we are, in the future. I guess things will become clearer after I stop that bus."

Clark looked up at the clock on the wall. 13:42. It was almost time.

"God, can you imagine what we're going through," Lois said, looking at Cira as she knit her brow in concentration. "I mean, to have her and love her and then to have her taken away by some psychopath. It just seems so unbelievably-"

"Cruel." Clark finished for her.

For a second they just watched their daughter in shared silence.

"That's my kid," Lois muttered, more to herself than anyone else. "Our daughter." She looked up at Clark suddenly then just as abruptly averted her eyes.

He frowned. "I know that look. What's wrong, Lois?"

"Nothing...I just..." she sighed. "You don't feel like we're cheating a little?" She motioned towards Cira. "You know, jumping the gun? Counting our chickens before they crack?"

"Hatch."

"Whatever."

"Lois, we didn't ask for this glimpse into our future. It's a little startling, I admit, but-"

"So you don't think that we're together because we feel that we have to be?" she asked in a hushed voice.

Clark looked hurt. "Everything that happened between us happened because I wanted it to, Lois. I guess I assumed you felt the same way."

"I did," she sighed, "I do. Look, never mind," she brushed it off. "Hey isn't there a bus out there somewhere with your name on it?"

Clark glanced at the clock. "I suppose I should go." He looked down at her. "So, I'm going..."

Lois bit her lip awkwardly. "Well, good luck," she looked at him for a second, unsure, then punched him arm in a lame attempt to alleviate the tension.

He looked from his arm to her face then nodded. "Okay, well..."

"Smallville, wait!" Lois cried, just as he was about take off.

He stopped in mid-blur and looked her expectantly. "Lois?"

She sighed and took a step closer to him. "Look, I haven't gotten my copy of 'Dating Superheroes for Dummies' yet, so this is all kind of new to me. I just...I want you to promise me that you'll be careful out there. You may have been doing this hero thing for a while, but it feels like we're just starting out and it would be nice if you didn't, you know, die." She looked at him with an open, vulnerable expression that made him want to pull her close and never let go. "I guess what I'm saying is, if anything happened to you...well that would kind of suck."

"Lois, I don't plan on staying away from you for any longer than I have to." He reached out and gently touched her check. "We've got time."

She nodded firmly and bit her lip in an effort to quell the emotion building up inside of her.

Clark shot her a little smile that caused her heart to skip a beat. "See you around, Miss Lane."

And then he was gone in a whoosh of wind. Lois stood rooted in the same spot after he left, a million thoughts buzzing around in her head. It was only after a couple of seconds that she looked down to realise Cira was standing besides her, staring off into the distance with a similar star-struck expression. "There he goes again," the five-year old said softly, using the phrase she'd heard her mother utter so often. Lois stared down at her, amused. "Guess I'm going to have to get used to it."

Sunday, November 13, 2018 – 14:00

"I'm telling you man, you should think about it." Oliver leaned back in his chair. "You could customise the voice and everything. I mean, personally I'd go for a female voice, but whatever floats your bat boat is cool."

Bruce sighed. "Queen, this may be hard for you to comprehend, but I have no desire to turn the Batmobile into my best friend. It's a mode of transport, a tool."

"Have you even seen 'Knight Rider?"Oliver asked with a disgusted expression.

Clark looked at the clock at the wall and sighed oblivious to the banter going on around him.

"I don't really have time for television." Bruce responded drily.

"Well maybe if you got out of that musty old cave and started living in the-" BZZZZ

All three men looked down as their transcoms buzzed, indicating an incoming message from Black Canary. Oliver attached the receiver to his ear. "This is Green Arrow, come in pretty bird."

Oliver nodded at whatever Dinah said through his receiver. "Affirmative. ETA, four minutes."

"They're at the Towers?" Bruce asked, adjusting his mask over his face.

Oliver nodded, reaching for his pack. "Dinah said we should get there ASAP. Apparently they've managed to capture Twist."

"And?"

"She didn't say any more. Guess we'll find out when we get there." Oliver looked over at Clark. "You flying or joining us in the jet?"

"I'm not coming with you," he said.

Bruce followed Clark's gaze to the clock on the wall. "You want to stay here until your past self completes the mission."

Clark turned to him. "I have to know. Look, go on without me, it'll be any time now."

"What if nothing changes?" Bruce asked. "We have work to do here. There are things within our control that we should prioritise."

"Just give me a couple of more minutes," Clark said. "If nothing changes...I'll be right behind you."

Bruce's slate grey eyes narrowed into slits. "Green Arrow can go alone. I'll wait here with you."

"No," Clark argued. "They need back-up. Go with Oliver."

Oliver sighed. "Look, we need to leave. So if you two are done with your little spat-"

"Come, on," Bruce said, walking past him and out of the room.

"Oliver," Clark called out before he could follow Batman. "Tell Lois I'll see her soon okay?"

Oliver stared at him for a second before nodding. "She'll hold you too that, Clark. Make sure it's the truth." Then he walked out, leaving Clark alone with the ticking clock.

Sunday, November 13, 2009 – 14:01

Clark stood on the side of the bridge, gazing down the wet-slicked road for any sign of on-coming traffic. The roads were quiet, even for a Sunday afternoon. Two cars and a motorbike had passed since he'd arrived, but no sign of the bus. Suddenly a drop of water grazed his nose, followed by another and another until it was steadily drizzling. He sighed as his clothes began to cling to his body. So much for the glamorous life of a superhero.

Clark ran his hand through his hair only to find it was still clumpy with bits of mud. His mouth tugged into a smile as he replayed that afternoon's events. The past two days seemed entirely surreal. Some perverse part of him wanted to pinch himself to see if he'd wake up, but he decided against it, thinking that if he was in a dream, he'd rather not wake up just yet. He fought the sudden and overwhelming urge to laugh. Despite the precariousness of the situation, despite the fact that he was standing in the rain waiting for a murderer, despite the thought that somewhere, in time and space his future self was going through hell, Clark Kent wanted to laugh. It was like a something bubbling deep inside of him, something that if he were forced to name, he'd probably call happiness. It was as if he'd been living with blinkers on, blind to anything but his isolation. He thought he had given up on the whole notion of romantic love that day on the rooftop, when a psychopath had taken away what he thought to be his only chance at it. But thinking about Lois, about what he felt when he was with her, Clark realised that he'd never truly been open to loving someone the way he loved her. For a second, he recalled what it felt like to be shot, first by Gabriel Duncan then by Oliver's arrows. Loving Lois felt something like that. It was a fast, hard knock to the system, something that he should have seen coming but still caught him by surprise. Yet instead of the intense pain, this feeling, though just as visceral, was euphoric. Instead of making him weak, it made him feel stronger, more confident in his abilities and who he was. He felt a shiver run through him as he recalled the look in her eyes the moment before he kissed her. There was excitement, anticipation, but above all, trust-something he'd never come to expect yet craved more than he realised. She trusted him, unfailingly. He'd once told his parents that Alicia had made him feel normal and special at the same time and that was why he loved her. Somehow Lois managed to do that without meteor abilities or a power suit, or some deep embedded hero-worship. Lois managed to do that just by looking at him. For the first time in his life, he could love without restraint.

As if on cue, a lightning bolt blazed down from the heavens and hit a rotting tree trunk on the side of the river bank. The log trembled in the wind and eventually crashed into the river, causing the rushing current to build up behind it. As the water on one side rise higher and higher, it threatened to flood the bank, which would inevitably flood the adjacent road.

Without hesitation, Clark pulled off his red jacket and tossed it into the road before jumping off the bridge and into the raging river. The water, though fast moving was not much more than waist deep. Steeling himself against the currents, he crouched beside the tree truck and lifted it above his head before tossing it back onto the bank as if it were no heavier than a twig. Over the rush of water, Clark suddenly heard the low rumble of a heavy vehicle on the bridge above.

For a moment, time seemed to stop. He looked up. The bus, a sleek Greyhound travelling smoothly on the wet road suddenly swerved to miss the bright red object lying directly in its path. It skidded across the bridge and turned sharply, narrowly missing a car coming up behind it. Clark gathered up his energy and bent low, like a spring, coiled before release. Suddenly, he let go and leapt into the air, landing just behind the swerving bus. Straining forward, he held on to the side, digging his fingers into the cold, wet metal. It creaked under the tension, but he held on, pulling back from the edge until all the wheels were safely down. Clark ran over to the side of the bus and peered in. The driver, a short, stout man in his fifties looked like he was about to pass out.

"Sir, are you alright?"

The driver looked behind him and nodded. "Yeah, we're all fine. But what in the Sam-hill happened? I thought were goners for sure."

Clark cleared his throat. "The uh-wind must have knocked you back. It's a velocity thing."

"Well thank god for that," he replied, squinting at Clark. "How'd you get here so fast anyway?"

"I was running, uh...jogging," he said quickly. "I saw what happened."

"Good man. The name's Earl." Earl stuck put his hand.

"Clark." Clark motioned to the inside of the bus. He couldn't see anything beyond the driver's seat, but was prepared to pull out the man in the grey hoodie once he walked off the platform. Clark decided he would follow him and wait. If Chloe was right, he would lead Clark to the son of the man who sent Cira to them. He would stop the murder and make sure that the murderer was apprehended. "You should get all of them out of there, at least until the wheels can be replaced."

Earl laughed. "There's only a dozen of 'em, but I guess you're right. Bet these boys thought they'd seen the end. Some of 'em deserved it, let me tell you."

Clark frowned, not understanding his meaning until twelve men began to file out of the bus, each of them wearing hospital tags, each of them in dark peak caps, each of them wearing grey hoodies."

"They're patients," Earl said, noticing Clark's confusion. "Nutters from B.R."

Clark stared at all of them, feeling anxiety wash over him. "Where are they being transported?"

"Construction site over in Metropolis. They're allowed out for good behaviour. Work skills for when they're better. Though if you ask me," Earl leaned in closer. "Some of 'em are beyond help." Clark watched as two large men in uniforms escorted the last few patients out. One of the men pulled out a phone and began to call for assistance. He guessed they were security from Belle Reve. Clark sighed, utterly at a loss for what to do. He supposed he could follow the bus and the patients or interview them one by one in an attempt to find out their intentions, but somehow, as he watched one man flap his arms like wings and lean over the edge of the bridge, Clark guessed that wouldn't be particularly helpful.

Suddenly, one of the patients walked up to him. He was a tall man with long blonde hair and a tattoo on his neck. "Hey kid, c'mere."

Clark looked at the security guards, but one was one the phone and the other was trying desperately to calm one of the other patients.

"Kid, I got a question for ya."

Clark approached him slowly.

"You uh, you got a light?" 'V' asked, coming nearer to Clark.

"Hey, leave the man alone," another patient, tall and slightly gaunt looking, spoke up.

"Shut up, Al," V yelled, his eyes focused on Clark.

"Hey boy, what you looking at?" V asked, his tone suddenly higher. "You never seen a mental before? That's the look Sarah used to give me. Before she threw me in this dump."

"Get away from him, V." Tiny called out. "Don't do any thing stupid."

All three men glanced at the guards who were still preoccupied.

"You ever been to Smallville, kid?"

"I'm from Smallville," Clark answered. "I grew up here."

"So you know Sarah Vincent?"

Clark shook his head. "No, I'm sorry, I don't."

"So you can take me too her, right?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know who that is, I was just hoping to ask you a couple of questions."

"Why? You a cop?" V's eyes bulged suddenly. "Cause I told them, I never meant to hurt her. I just wanted to look into his eyes. And you wanna know a secret?" He motioned for Clark to come closer.

Suddenly, he leapt at Clark, holding his neck in a vice-like grip. If Clark had been any other man, he would have been seriously hurt. But he wasn't. As voices yelled and the guards rushed over, Clark pulled V off him and tossed him to the ground. Clark looked him up and down, x-raying his body just as V pulled the gun out of his sock.

"Watch out!" Al suddenly ran in front of Clark, blocking him from fire. In the blink of an eye, Clark reached out and plucked the bullet from the air before it could hit Al. Then the guards were on V, pinning him down and cuffing him.

"I wasn't gonna hurt him," V yelled as they shuffled him into the bus. "I swear, I wasn't gonna hurt him. I just wanted a bit of fun. Just a bit of fun."

Clark looked down at his hand. The bullet that lay in his palm suggested otherwise. He reached down and offered his hand to the man lying in his path. Al took it gratefully.

They watched as the guards shuffled V back into the bus.

"What are you going to do with him?" Clark asked.

"He's going back to a padded cell. He won't be able to hurt anyone." the guard answered. "You okay?"

"Thanks to him, I will be," he said, referring to Al.

Al shrugged. "I believe in karma." He nodded once at Clark then walked away, humming as he went.

Clark used his x-ray vision to see into the bus. V was cuffed and supervised. There was no way he would be able to hurt anyone else. He walked over to the guard that handcuffed V. "What will happen to the rest of them?"

The guard sighed. "There's no way we're taking them to Metropolis now. The bigwigs will have our asses when they find out about this. I don't know how that nut-job got that gun past security but I'm guessing he wasn't working alone. We'll pack them up and send them back to their cells."

Clark exhaled deeply. He'd saved the bus and stopped the bad guy. Everything was about to change. He just wished he knew how.