7: Misplaced Blame

'Central Gotham has again been without power for three days. Wayne Enterprises is working to restore the damage caused by an experimental energy plant upon collapse three weeks ago.'

The news reporter listened to her earpiece.

'MaxTech will make a statement in Metropolis this afternoon,' she said. 'It's believed that masked vigilantes are to blame-'

Lois switched off the TV and threw its remote at the couch.

'You and your green leather were there all of five seconds, and somehow you're the one they're pointing the finger at?' Lois scoffed, giving Oliver a disbelieving look.

He shrugged, sealing a container of apple slices. He retrieved a sippy cup from the fridge, glancing at the wall clock by the door.

'Don't bother,' she said. 'Clark will meet us there. Any idea what's gotten into him lately? It's like he's trying to run across the city and back until he collapses. I'm all for staying fit, and I bet in some twisted way he misses hauling all those hay bales, but c'mon. Whatever he's doing, it's too much.'

'Yeah. It's...' Oliver shrugged, focused on packing the picnic lunch. 'Stress.'

'Stress?' Lois scoffed. 'Your excuses are as lame as his. I mean, volunteering for the homeless? Yeah, that'll be the day. I get that he's got a big heart and all, but since when does Clark Kent have more time for complete strangers than his own son?'

'Maybe he's trying to branch out?' Oliver shrugged. 'Where is the little guy?'

'In his room, building a block tower that will rival the Daily Planet.' Lois indicated to the bedroom shared by father and son.

She'd never admit it, but she missed the nursery. Ethan was almost three, yet it didn't feel that long ago when he'd been a wailing baby who mostly ate or slept.

Oliver gave her a curious look while snacking on grapes. 'Not that it's any of my business, but why are you avoiding Clark?'

'I'm not avoiding him.' She rolled her eyes. 'I'm busy. Some of us have careers to build, articles to write, and cousins to help. I work late, it happens. It's not my fault he keeps to rooster hours and goes to bed early.'

'Right. Right.' He nodded, amused and not believing one word of it. 'Except you can work from home. Look, I don't live here, Lois, but even I can tell you're avoiding him. Did something happen?'

'No.' She scoffed, eyeing the contents of their picnic basket.

'Or is that the problem?' He was too smug for her liking. 'You want something to happen with Clark? You two live together, practically on top of each other, and take care of a kid together... I'm just saying, I wouldn't be surprised if there's more than friendship going on here. Is there?'

'Clark and I don't live together.' Lois scoffed, gaze intent on skimming text messages. 'We share an apartment. Stop eating the picnic.' She snatched the container, storing it safely in the basket. She glanced at her phone.

Nothing. No call, no text, no update. Where was he?

Living in close quarters with Clark wasn't new, but it was different without his parents around or a rooster to threaten. When he made dinner, or she helped bathe Ethan, or their guitar hero weekends...

Oliver ate a strawberry. 'You didn't answer my question,' he said. 'Do you want something more with Clark?'

She couldn't risk getting comfortable. She regretted not getting her own apartment, yet renewed the lease. What did it mean? It wasn't as if she liked Clark the way Oliver implied, though her heart beat faster, as if his words had exposed something.

'You're right.' Lois nodded. 'It's really none of your business.'

Oliver knew when to choose his battles, and this wasn't one of them. He nodded, accepting her glare as a genuine threat to his health, and went to find his godson.

'Wow.' He entered the room, exaggerating his reaction to the block tower. 'That's taller than I am.'

'Uncle Ollie.' Ethan jumped off the bed, engulfing him in a hug.

Lois smiled as Oliver fake-fell on his back. Ethan giggled, then shrieked when he got tickle-attacked in return. It shouldn't mean anything to her that he was growing up, but somehow it did.

She retreated to the kitchen. Ethan's fits of laughter filled the apartment, like a song she couldn't get out of her head.

'How's the search for an ongoing babysitter going?' Lois asked when Oliver re-emerged. 'It's been months. How hard can it be, with all your resources, to find at least one trustworthy person to watch the little monster?'

'Harder than you might think,' Oliver said, grabbing a glass of water. He was out of breath, while Ethan ran round the living room with boundless energy. 'No one's been good enough, you know? Besides, I don't mind taking care of him. I've proofed my office and everything.'

'Gonna go park now?' Ethan hurried over. 'Daddy be there, right?'

'We sure are, buddy.' Oliver grinned. 'And of course your dad will be there. We packed extra sandwiches.'

Lois rolled her eyes. 'Careful, Uncle Ollie, or you'll make yourself his nanny.'

... ~ ...

Clark wiped soot off his hands, seeking a familiar group. His son's smile and red shirt were beacons as the boy ran around an irritated Lois. He took a step back, remembering her wearing only his shirt the previous night, insisting nothing else was clean.

'Daddy.' Ethan used a picnic bench to jump into his arms.

Clark always caught him – not because of super reflexes, but in fear of ever disproving his son's complete faith that he would.

'About time.' Lois frowned, cutting off Oliver's attempted greeting. 'How long does it take to walk a few files over to the Daily Planet?'

'Hello to you too,' Clark said, peering into the blurry picnic basket.

'Did you wash your hands?' she eyed Ethan.

'Yes...' The boy hid in Clark's jacket, tucking hands behind his back.

Clark examined his son's hands, then put him down. 'It's important to be honest,' he said, crouching to Ethan's eye level. 'Dirty hands make your food dirty too.'

'Exactly.' Lois nodded. 'So no more dizzy circles and just go wash them. Come on, there's a tap over here. I'll be watching.' She fixed him with a stern look.

Ethan grumbled, but dragged his feet after her. Oliver tried to hide a smirk, though checked his own hands in case Lois came after him next.

'I finished clearing the neighbourhood.' Clark said, using the table to steady himself. 'I had to stack some cars to reach all the underground wiring. It was a close call, but no one saw me. The support beams need replacing. Could you send more over?'

'Sure. Uh... not that I'm opposed to free carrot sticks and juice boxes, but why are we having this conversation out in the open?' Oliver asked, amused. 'I mean, since when do we go on picnics?'

Clark shook his head, waiting for intense dizziness to pass.

'Powers still on the fritz, huh?' Oliver nodded. 'Then I'm guessing you didn't want to risk blowing out one of those huge windows in your apartment with a super sneeze. Unlike my office windows this morning – thanks for that, by the way. I guess I'm going glass-free from now on. Maybe I'll take up rappelling?'

'I'll get it under control.' He swayed, determined to remain upright.

'Clark... look man, you need to rest, okay? Even you have your limits,' Oliver said. 'I've donated a million dollars to help restore the affected areas. Hell, even Lex has thrown money at it. Why not take a break and let people who are paid to fix things-?'

'It's my mess, Oliver.' He frowned. 'What takes everyone else months only takes me minutes...'

'Not when you're pushing yourself like this.' Oliver checked Lois remained out of earshot. 'You don't have to do this on your own, okay? I know you think this is all somehow your fault, but eventually you have to stop punishing yourself.'

'Those people lost so much because of me,' he said. 'I pulled that lever.'

'You made a hard choice, Clark. I get that. I don't know what I would've done in your shoes, but maybe there is no right answer with two terrible options – just one that does the least damage.' Oliver shrugged. 'Pulling that lever, you saved countless lives. Focus on that.'

'So the other people's lives don't matter because they were the minority?' Clark sniffled, resisting an urge to sneeze.

'Of course not. I didn't-'

'Okay, his hands are squeaky clean, and I've held up my end of the deal. Take the little bruiser.' Lois passed Ethan to Clark. 'I've got an interview with Senator Roaming-Hands and his stonewalling sidekick that I cannot be late for.'

'Bruiser?' Clark worried, glancing her over.

'Just a pinch when I wouldn't share my yoghurt.' She checked phone messages. 'He's strong for someone who screams bloody murder when he falls out of bed onto a perfectly soft rug. I gotta run.'

Ethan waved goodbye. He squirmed, determined to raid the picnic basket.

'Nightmares, huh?' Oliver guessed.

'I'm afraid he got that from me.' Clark watched Ethan offer an apple slice to an affronted duck. 'I wish I could ask my parents what...' He sighed, jaw tense. It was hard enough gaining a new power without having his parents there to help him through it, like they always did.

'Well, you're in luck,' Oliver said. 'There's this really cool device that allows people to communicate, even if they're in different locations. It's called a phone. Use it.'

Ethan squealed when the duck lunged for its snack. He ran to Clark, hiding behind his legs.

'It's okay, buddy.' Clark fought to keep from laughing. 'He was just hungry.'

Oliver doubled over in hysterics.

... ~ ...

It was late when Lois kicked off her heels and shut the door, yet the apartment lights were still on.

'Clark?'

She found him in his dimly lit room. Clark was sat against the headboard, watching his son sleep.

Ethan was sprawled across half the bed, hugging his teddy rabbit named Kip. He wore the tractor-print pyjamas Lois bought him, his dark hair contrasting against light sheets.

'He's getting so big,' Clark whispered in awe.

Lois felt his warm forehead. 'Chloe mentioned you had a bit of a cold earlier,' she said at his bewildered look. 'You seem fine. Here I was, thinking I'd have to whip up a remedy for Clarkie's sniffles.'

He blatantly ignored her tease, focused on Ethan. 'He's the same age I was when my parents adopted me.'

Her phone was full of videos and photos of Ethan. His toothy smile, determined first steps, babbled new words, and adorable giggles. She carried with her a gift the Kents never had with Clark.

'They missed a lot of firsts,' she said.

'So did I.' He nodded. 'When I was little, I'd have nightmares all the time. I was terrified of heights, the dark, loud noises... It's supposed to be different for Ethan. What if we overlooked something? What if I'm not doing a good enough job of protecting him?'

'Are you kidding me?' She shook her head. 'You're an amazing father, Clark. And hard as it is to hear, you can't protect him from everything.'

'I know.' His shoulders relaxed. 'I just thought it'd get easier as he got older.'

It was quiet and still, as if time existed only for them.

Lois gestured him to budge over. Their elbows touched, and she pretended not to notice. Though the bed was big enough, Ethan took up most of the space. In proximity, she felt the warmth of Clark's presence.

He didn't ask her for the news. Either Chloe already told him about the restaurant fire that was mysteriously put out, or Lois' reassurance hadn't convinced him.

'Remember when he thought the bath plughole would eat his rubber duck?' She searched her phone, bringing up a picture from three months ago. 'You got him another one to help keep it safe, saying they'd protect each other, so he didn't have to worry.'

Ethan was pictured having a bubble bath, his hair covered in soapsuds, and holding two rubber ducks above the water.

Clark smiled at it, his face so close she got goosebumps. It was just the low lighting and vulnerable moment, she reminded herself.

'Or when that horrible storm rolled in last year and we camped out under a fort in the living room?'

Being a favourite, it was easier to find. Ethan had snuggled in her lap as she read to him, tucked warm and safe under their impressive fort. He'd smiled at the book, despite tear tracks on his chubby cheeks.

'Yeah, you make sure that fort was up to code.' Clark rolled his eyes.

'Not the point.' She huffed, scrolling for more.

Ethan's bright pumpkin outfit from last Thanksgiving, which Clark hated yet didn't remove. The artistic display of mashed vegetables on the kitchen wall when he started on solids. The toppled Christmas tree beside a laughing toddler. Ethan passed out on the sofa in a weird angle, butt in the air. His intense concentration with measuring flour into a cup under Martha's supervision. The fifth robotic beetle that met an unfortunate end.

Clark's hand rested on hers, sending a warm jolt up her arm. She paused, hesitantly making eye contact.

'I get the point.' He nodded, smiling. The appreciation in his gaze was deep enough to get lost in.

'Good.' She put her phone away. The dim room made it easier to hide her face. 'Because I've got a hundred more amazing memories and teaching moments. A few nightmares don't stand a chance against that.'

Yawning, she leaned her head against Clark's shoulder, which relaxed at her touch, and resolved to enjoy their quiet moment. They were worth every long day and restless night.

Ethan slept peacefully, unaware of his watchful guardians.

... ~ …

Lex faced the darkened window of his LuthorCorp office, overlooking the city. The doors burst open, and he didn't budge. The reflection revealed his visitor's identity - the last person on Earth he wanted to see.

'Two years, and this is what you've been doing, Lex?'

'Hello, Dad.' His tone was bitter but face emotionless. 'You're alive.'

Lionel tossed the Daily Planet newspaper, headlining MaxTech's ongoing energy plant catastrophes. He poured himself a glass of scotch, savouring the taste.

'Yes. Imagine my surprise when I woke to find myself stranded, miles from civilisation, and very far off my original course.' Lionel shot Lex an accusatory glance. 'And then to realise not only did you, my only son, arrange for the plane to crash, but also left me there on that god-forsaken island.'

'It's a good thing you didn't go native,' Lex said. 'How did you get off that island?' He turned, glaring at his father.

'People with so little have always found the promise of fame and fortune to be an irresistible motivator.' Lionel swirled the scotch, then took another sip.

'And how do you intend to follow through with your delusions of grandeur?' Lex hid a smirk. 'All of your accounts are frozen.'

'Empty too, I imagine.' Lionel nodded. 'But you and I both know that seizing control of LuthorCorp wasn't enough. A man of your misguided appetite would want every last penny, wouldn't you, Lex? That's the thing about money – to them it's a valuable treasure, but to us it's nothing more than paper.'

'And yet, here you stand,' Lex faced him, hands tucked behind his back. 'With none.'

'I have something far more valuable than numbered paper, son,' Lionel stated, confidence never wavering. 'Money isn't just power, Lex. Surely I taught you that? It's merely a tool to achieving true power. The kind that cannot be lost or stolen.'

'I want it all.'

'Oh, no. A man who has everything has nothing left to take away.' Lionel chuckled, though his gaze was mirthless. 'What will you threaten now? Murder?'

'So what's your plan, Dad?' he asked. 'Return to Metropolis? Reclaim your empire?'

'Come now, Lex. Where's your strategy? I taught you better than this,' Lionel scolded. 'I have little interest in your military-funded Monopoly games, wasteful energy plants that can't get a job done, or this frivolous office you've fashioned yourself.'

'Then what?' Lex growled. His expression remained void of emotion, though he gripped the back of his desk chair until his knuckles turned white.

'It's frustrating, isn't it? Not knowing the answer or plan. Knowledge is power too.' Lionel finished his scotch. 'I won't tell you why I'm here, but it looks like I'm back in the nick of time.'

'I want you gone.'

'What you want is someone to blame for your own failure to kill your last remaining threat,' Lionel corrected. 'Thankfully, some of your employees are even less loyal than mine. I suggest you obtain some tact before round three.'

'Get out,' Lex snapped.

Lionel returned the scotch glass, smug and composed. He nodded, then left the office.

Lex waited until the doors closed.

He yelled, shoving everything off his desk to clatter on the smooth floor. He snatched the back of his chair, propelling it against a wall. Breathing heavily, he returned to the window view of Metropolis.

The plan failed, jeopardising the future he sought for himself. Lionel remained a threat to everything important to him. Whichever employee helped him off the island would pay the price. The problem must be eliminated at all costs.

Lex could no longer balance the line he was destined to cross.

A/N: What do you think? Do you like how the story's going so far? Is there anything you'd like to see? I'd love to hear from you. :)