1Part 3: Transcend
Take me down the road
To a place I've never been before
Open up my eyes
Show me colors that I've never seen
Open up your mouth
Give me perfect words I've never heard
I'm ready now let's go
Burn my world a southpaw curve
Fast and hard. Like Vida Blue.
- All
In the middle of a restless sleep the impulse had hit him.
It buzzed in his mind with the nagging drone of unfinished business. He tried to roll it off, yanking the crochet blankets tightly around his neck and willing his eyes shut. He tossed and turned on the too small living room couch and attempted to think of something, anything else.
Turning to the digital clock on the counter, Clark saw a blurry 2:34 through red-rimmed eyes. He crushed his pillow into his face and sighed.
Chloe had once told him that a mind could be stubbornly independent. She illustrated the point by warning him not to think of elephants - any other animal, vegetable, mineral was fair game. But not elephants. Needless to say, he was stuck with pachyderm-filled thoughts for the rest of the day. She had assured him that everyone fell pray to it - that it was simply a quirky characteristic of the human brain. But while that explanation was well and good for the earthborn population, it didn't really apply.
After all - not human.
He had to wonder if being what he was made him even more susceptible to the phenomena. Always at the complete mercy of a self-destructive train of thought. Super masochism.
All Clark Kent knew for sure was that his traitoress brain currently had him highjacked, along for a dangerous ride that left him with throbbing temples and a guilt that settled thickly in the pit of his stomach.
Despite his better judgement, he soon found his bare feet shuffling up the creaky clapboard steps of the loft and over to couch that still held Lois's suede shoulder bag.
Sleep-deprived and wary, Clark sighed and flopped down next to it. He sat motionless for a while, sneaking furtive glances out of the corner of his eye, while he debated his next move.
He had spent his quick run to the barn rationalizing what he was about to do. Lois's appearance had brought up a lot of questions, but through all of his shock and confusion she had remained frustratingly tight lipped. It had been a surprise, actually. Up until that point he hadn't believed that Lois Lane knew the meaning of restraint, let alone could practice it with such a high degree of discipline. She was as subtle as a falling anvil when it came to knocking him down a few pegs, but when he really needed her to be strait with him, she was anything but direct. It just figured.
But her bag...well, it could give him exactly what he needed. No games. Just answers. He was positive.
The decision was made.
He reached for the latch.
And then it was unmade again.
Clark groaned and sank back into the musty cushions. Lois had risked her life to come back and try to save him, the least he could do was respect her privacy. He had no reason to believe that she would mislead him, or keep anything from him that he was supposed to know. She'd do what was in his best interest. He was pretty sure that stipulation was somewhere in those wedding vows.
But...
His mind swung back again. She had been so protective of that bag and yet had made no effort to share what was inside. He could just take one quick look, so they were at least on the same page. He would be better equipped to help her - and to save himself.
She never had to find out. And if she did, she'd forgive him. She'd have to.
He sucked in a deep breath and before he could talk himself out of it once again, dumped the bag out onto the floor, the contents making a sharp clatter as they hit oak. Clark sifted through the items; a red compact, a bottle of water, a small ring box, Lois' press pass, a flashlight. Clark stopped when he got to a small, leather-bound photo album.
He ran his fingers along the gold-leafed vines that twisted into a decorative border. The binding was beginning to fray. Years of reminiscing, he figured. "Memories" stretched across the front cover, and scrawled at the bottom, in a handwriting he recognized as his own, the Kents.
He flipped to the first page and was met with an image he was far more comfortable encountering. There in the picture was Lois standing on the lawn of Metropolis University. She couldn't have been much older than she was now, her black backpack slung over a shoulder and her hair pulled up in that familiar sloppy ponytail. Her hand was up, her eyes pointedly rolled, making her objection to the picture expressedly known to the lens. Despite her protest, her mouth was still turned up into a reluctant smile, which made her appear more embarrassed than annoyed. He wondered ... who had taken the picture? Why were they taking it? And maybe most importantly, had she always been that beautiful?
He turned the page and smiled. Chloe and Lois both beamed brightly up at him, arms wrapped around each other's shoulders. It was nice to know that in even the most chaotic of times, some thing really never changed.
He turned the next page to find him face to face with himself. Well, the future him. He sat at a desk in the middle of a stucco-walled dorm room, Met U pennants hanging above the bed. His hair was shorter, neater. The thin, metal-rimmed glasses Lois had mentioned earlier rested on the bridge of his nose. He wore an easy smile as he rested the chair on its two back legs.
The next picture stopped him short. It was of him and Lois - his first real experience seeing them together. He held her tightly in his arms as they both sat on a bench outside of the library. He nuzzled playfully into her neck, as she tried to wriggle free, wide smiles splitting their faces. He looked like a person completely, and totally in love. But the bigger surprise, the one that sent his mind spinning, was that she did too.
"You know, you could have just x-rayed the bag. It would have been a far less conspicuous alternative."
Clark jumped at the sound of her voice, bobbling the album in his hands. He shut it quickly, and hid it behind him as he spun around to face her.
"Lois, I ...umm..."
Lois bit back an amused smile as she watched him squirm beneath her withering stare. Finally she let him off the hook, dropping her hands from her hips and starting towards him.
"Easy, Clark. It's okay. I'm sure you had a long, drawn-out internal struggle about the morality of snooping in my purse." In the stillness of the night, the clack clack of her heels echoed through the barn.
"Sorry."
Her eyes zeroed in on the arm that was tucked behind his back. When she reached around to grab the album, he didn't bother to stop her.
Busted.
"They told me not to bring these," she said, idly flipping through the pages. "That if you found them they would just bring up more questions. But I needed something to ground me, you know?"
He crammed his hands in his pockets and nodded.
"You shouldn't be looking at these. I'm under strict orders to keep you as in the dark as possible about the yet to be," Lois said, smirking at whatever picture she had stumbled on. She looked up at him and shrugged. "But since when have I ever towed the company line, right?" She held it out for him to take, her nod assuring him that she was being sincere.
He flipped back to the page where he had left off, dog-eared in his mind. She stood behind him on tip toes, craning her neck for a better look.
"Junior year in college. We had just come back from spring break. Daytona. Very nice. That's why I'm clearly tanned, and you're clearly...not." Lois filled in the narrative blanks.
Clark looked over and nodded, appreciatively. "Thanks."
She shrugged. "I figure these pictures probably work better with an audio commentary."
"So...we dated?" Stupid question. He knew it. But still...
Lois laughed. "Well, typically before two people walk down the aisle they tend to take in a movie or two. And while I don't really consider myself a slave to tradition, I went with the collective consensus on this one."
"So. That's a yes?"
She leveled a look at him. "Work with me here, Clark." She sighed, deeply, and shook her head, before flipping the next page for him. "This would have been so much easier if I didn't have to do the Time Warp back to when you were still mooning over Lana Lang."
"I'm not ..." He trailed off at the sight of her already unconvinced look. He regrouped and tried again. "I wouldn't call it mooning, exactly."
"You know, you always criticize me for my selective memory. I'm going to have to remember this moment of grand self-delusion for future counter-arguments."
He looked at her and smiled, a reaction that was rapidly becoming the norm. She slipped on her echoing smile with ease, but he figured that she'd had a lot of practice. But as quickly as it had come, it disappeared, her jaw tensing.
He followed her gaze down to where it was set on the Scroll of Templar, which, thanks to his purse-purge, was now on the floor under a messy pile.
Lois strode over to the paper and snatched it up, frantically inspecting it for any damage. She turned it over in her hands, scrutinizing every square inch of faded parchment. Finally, she once again acknowledged his presence in the room.
"This?" she said, her icy tone chilling the air around them. "Never leaves the bag again."
He nodded quickly. "Yeah. I'm sorry."
She took a deep, steadying breath, and forced a tight smile. She shook her head. "It's okay. Just, please. Be careful."
She folded the paper with deliberate care, and slid it into the bag. While was there, she picked up the other items that belonged inside and returned them as well. When she was done, she set it on the desk. She gave it a weary once-over, as if her bag were a flight risk.
"Do you miss him?" Clark directed the question to the back of her head.
He watched as her hand unconsciously shifted to her bracelet. "Being away from my husband is like a root canal with a rusty screwdriver."
Clark blinked. "That was...vivid."
Lois turned and smiled. "It's the journalist in me." She yawned deeply, and stretched her arms high over her head. "Having you here makes it easier though. It's like home movies in high definition 3-D. IMAX theaters got nothing on you." She finished with a wink.
"Do you want to –?" He held up the album.
"You don't have to ask me twice."
The two settled down onto the couch. Lois tucked her legs beneath her and wedged herself into his side. She smelled like vanilla, and he breathed her in deeply. Clark wondered if this was something they did often - late nights of talking, comforting. Just enjoying each others' company. He felt like it was something the future him would look forward to. Or, at least, should.
When he looked up she was staring at him expectantly. "You are aware that not everyone has x-ray vision, right?"
"Oh!" A blush crept up his neck as he opened the album. "Sorry."
The next photo was their wedding picture. Lois looked stunning in her gown, a sea of cascading white satin. And not to brag, but the tuxedo defiantly suited him. Wrapped up in each other they looked happy. Just...happy.
A thought occurred to him. "Chloe?"
"My maid of honor, of course," Lois answered simply.
He didn't push further. He didn't need to. He had to admit, it was a giant relief to know that however things had evolved with Lois, they hadn't been at the expense of his best friend.
He flipped the page and --
Clark's train of thought - that Johnny Reb that had a tendency of getting away from him - hit a brick wall.
He stared lamely at the image. It was of him – he thought. He was standing, arms crossed and powerful. Top to bottom in dark blue spandex, a red cape resting on his shoulders and a golden emblem blazoned on his chest.
"That's..." He could only point.
"You," Lois nodded. "Well, technically it's Superman."
Clark barked a laugh. "Superman? A little pretentious, don't you think? Who came up with that?"
He looked over to find her all scowl. "I did," she said, flatly.
"It's catchy." He quickly changed the subject. "Did you make the suit?"
"Nope. That's a Martha Kent original."
He flipped through the next couple of pages. Newspaper clippings from the Daily Planet. "Superman Stops Tsunami." "Superman Rescues Orphans from Burning Building." A myriad of larger than life headlines, all about him.
It was...overwhelming.
"I don't understand," he admitted.
Lois nudged his shoulder with her own. "Well, in a few years time you become a bonafide super hero," she informed him, a proud smile playing on her lips.
"So, what? I just run around from place to place in this get up and save the day?"
"No. You just fly around from place to place in that get up and save the day."
His brows knit in confusion. "I thought you said I was a reporter."
She shrugged. "Everyone needs a day job, Clark."
He couldn't imagine himself so completely exposed. Sure, the fact that Lois knew about him had been a relief, but the whole world?
He stared blankly at the picture of a man who looked isolated. Alone.
Alien.
Wait. His mind ratcheted back to something Lois had mentioned before, about Jason Trask. How something had happened that caused him change. Something had made him to abandon everything he ever knew for a mission. A personal crusade.
Awareness hit like a haymaker. "Trask's not really here because of some slander piece, is he?"
Lois bit her lower lip, conflict registering on her face. "No," she admitted, finally.
Clark felt anger bubble to the surface. "So you lied to me?" He pushed himself off the couch.
"I wouldn't call it a lie –" Lois followed.
He whirled back and moved forward, towering over her. "I would."
Her eyes narrowed and she stepped into his advance. "Don't go all paragon of honesty with me or do I need to remind you that a few minutes ago you were playing Nancy Drew in my personal belongings?"
"That's different. I wasn't trying to purposely mislead you!" he hurled at her, lip curled in a defiant sneer. "How can I trust anything you say now? For all I know everything you've told me is a giant lie! Maybe you aren't even Lois Lane."
Lois rolled her eyes. "Typical Clark Kent. Able to leap to conclusions in a single bound."
"Then why didn't you tell me the real reason you were here?"
"That information was on a need to know basis. And you? Not amongst the needy."
"Why is Trask here?"
"Clark..." For the first time her eyes darted from his own. He was pushing her somewhere she didn't want to go. But part of him, a large part, didn't care.
"Tell me."
If he had been more familiar with their future relationship, he would have known that he was the only person on the planet with the power to make Lois Lane cave. And apparently even at seventeen, years before he would become the man she would marry, he still held that honor.
"Trask used to head a secret government department called Bureau 39 - a special subdivision of the US army dealing with extra terrestrial life," she explained. "During his tenure he became convinced of the prospect of alien colonization and what he considered to be the imminent threat it posed for the human race. He was obsessed with the idea - A little xenophobia can go a long way on the crazy scale."
She was dodging the issue. He stepped forward. "Why is he here?"
Her eyes begged him not to make her continue. But he stood firm.
Lois shook her head. "You know that little project I alluded to earlier? The one that got Trask on everyone's bad list? Well, it was a search and destroy." She took a deep breath. "And the target was Superman."
Clark reeled back as if he had been slapped.
"So he's here because I'm a threat..." he murmured, walking dumbly towards the window.
Lois tagged quickly behind, hot on his heels and quick to his defense. "No, because he's a whackjob. Haven't we been over this already?"
"Hey." She grabbed his arm and turned him towards her. He felt her grip tighten. "It doesn't matter."
Anger flashed in his eyes. "How can you say that? It does matter! None of this would be happening if I wasn't like this!"
"And what's that?"
"You know what I am, Lois," he said through gritted teeth.
She crossed her arms and arched a daring brow. "Enlighten me."
He shot her a look he didn't realize had the power to wreck her. "Different," he spat the word like venom.
Lois stood in stunned silence. He watched as she paled, her stoic resolve shattering like glass. In the moonlight, her eyes took on the wet glint of pain.
He tore himself away, his legs feeling like lead as he dragged them towards the window. Clark sat down and looked out at a world that would never have him. It was a thought that had been hanging heavily around his neck for weeks, ever since he had returned from the Phantom zone. But now it felt real. Any hope for a normal future had been crushed in one lousy second.
Kal-el of Krypton or Clark Kent of Smallville. Neither costume seemed to fit anymore. Not really. He looked down at the album in his hands. And that blue, red and gold one didn't look like it was much better.
He was beginning to feel like he didn't belong anywhere.
He had almost begun to think that Lois had left when she slowly walked up and sat down beside him. The two looked out at nothing in particular for what felt like an eternity. Finally, she spoke.
"Clark, you're more of a human being than most people born and bred on this planet. I mean, God. You've got more humanity in you little finger than Trask has in his whole psychotic body." He turned to find her eyes filled with a love he felt like he didn't deserve.
"But I'm not human, Lois," he argued, his voice cracking. "It's like the more I try to convince myself that I'm meant to be here, the more it seems like everything else is telling me I'm not. I'm an outsider." He gestured to the steel jawed man - the icon in the dark blue suit. "And I always will be." He hated that the way it sounded like weakness, and that she was there to hear it.
He waited for her answer. And when it came, it began with a loud scoff.
"This was a choice, Clark, not some sort of default obligation. You don't save people because you're a super man. You save them because you're a good man." She rested a hand on his chest. "You have the biggest and best heart of anyone I've ever met. And that does make you different. Great- sign me up for different."
He allowed her take the album, although he was reluctant. But he let it go.
He let it all go.
Clark pressed his palms into his eyes and cried. Everything that had been building up inside of him - all the worry and, loneliness, and doubt - spilled out in a wreck of sobs.
He hadn't realized just how much had needed that. He marveled at Lois' ability to be confusing and comforting at the same time. When nothing else in the world made sense, she some how managed to.
He swallowed hard, and forced his next words out. "I'm sorry. It's just a lot to handle sometimes."
He felt her fingers link with his.
"I know. But you'll get through it."
"How can you be so sure?" He genuinely wanted to know.
"Because it's what you do." That night she seemed to have all the answers. "And you're not alone."
She gave his hand a squeeze.
When she had his full attention, she flashed him a million watt smile. He couldn't help but grin back.
Whether he liked it or not, she was going to pull him into the light. Kicking and screaming if need be. As Clark blinked away tears, feeling lighter than he ever had before, he realized that she might have just succeeded.
"How do you do that?"
She scrunched her nose in confusion. "Do what?"
"Make it feel like everything isn't falling apart?"
She leaned back on her hands and looked up and the ceiling. "Practice. When your husband's a walking guilt-complex you learn quickly," she teased, lightly.
Clark shook his head, dazed. "You're really different."
She eyed him. "I'm going to choose to take that as a compliment."
"You should."
Her eyes went skyward again as she allowed something to float up from the recesses of her mind. "I like to think we evened each other out. Before you met me you were kind of uptight," She motioned to him as if he stood as a shining example of her point. She thought for a moment and then added, "Sullen, moody, whiney, pretty much a killjoy."
"Okay, Lois. I get it." It was moments like that, moments where he'd see a little bit of the Lois he knew sneak into the woman next to him, that he could allow himself to believe that he really was looking into the future.
His future.
Lois continued, "And I may have been a little... rough around the edges."
Now it was his turn to roll his eyes.
She caught it. "I didn't push people away because I wanted to, Clark. It was about survival. For a long time anyone who ever mattered left me - my mom, my sister, and then Chloe... I never had anyone I could count on to be there the next day. When your life turns into one big continual goodbye, you learn pretty quickly that shutting out the world is a hell of a lot better than a perpetually broken heart. It was easy and safe and really lonely..." she admitted with a laugh. "And then I met you. Clark Kent. Smalltown wonderboy, King of the flannel. And everything changed."
She became serious. More serious than he had ever seen her - in any incarnation. "You see, Clark, way before you ever dawned the big red 'S' and cape and went around rescuing the world at large...you saved me."
"I did?"
"Yeah." Her voice dipped to a warm whisper. "So forgive me if I like you just the way you are. I'm just a really big fan."
He could only stare at her - a walking, talking affirmation of a future worth looking forward to. Hope.
When he allowed himself turn back to the window, the world outside looked entirely right. The night seemed clearer. His life seemed clearer . It was in that moment that he finally realized where he belonged.
He belonged with her.
He looked over to where Lois sat lost in thought, a million miles away. Or maybe just ten years.
"Lois?" His voice trembled a bit. He felt like he was driving without headlights.
"Yeah?"
"I was wondering..."
He suddenly noticed that his pulse was beginning to quicken around her. Everything seemed to quicken around her. He thought back to the pictures in the album. The stories she had told. A future that he wasn't so sure he could wait for.
She seemed suddenly intrigued by his silence, cocking her head in amusement. "What?"
He shot a quick look at the gold band on her finger. If she loved him then... "Clark, what?" Then she might love him now.
Lois' kind words swimming in his head, Clark slowly dropped his head down to hers.
Her hand to his jaw stopped him short. She ran her thumb along his cheek and chuckled softly.
"Hey, try that again in about 10 years, okay?" she said with a gentle smile.
He nodded, embarrassed, and pulled back, stuttering out an apology . He watched as she looked back out at the night sky, the incident seemingly dropped as fast as it had come. His heart sunk.
After a moment, she spoke again. "In the meantime," she began, breezily. "I may be biased, and this may come across as shameless self promotion, but there is a girl over at Met U. Smart. Witty. Devastatingly beautiful--"
"She's not you," Clark interrupted, his bluntness surprising even him.
"Yes. She is. She's me without a Clark Kent."
Clark shook his head, finally. "Doesn't matter. Lois doesn't...those feelings aren't there."
"Don't sell yourself short," Lois said, easing herself to her feet. Once up, she bent down towards him and winked. "I have it on good authority that she thinks you're pretty cute."
She ruffled his hair set out towards the steps. Clark pulled his legs up to his chest and rested his chin on his knees.
If he wasn't who he was he wouldn't have heard her next words as she softly mumbled them under her breath, her voice decorated with amusement. "Lois Lane. Irresistible to Clark Kents throughout space and time."
For the second time that night she had left him with more questions than answers. He wondered how anything could be the same now that he knew so much about what was to come. He reminded himself that Jason Trask would be there in two days, and that if he were to have any hope of seeing that future, he had to stay on guard.
He looked around the loft and sighed. What was he going to do?
And then it hit him.
Clark jumped to his feet and jogged over to the desk. He grabbed his cell phone from where he had left it and punched in the number he wasn't sure why he had memorized.
After a minute, her sleep-muffled voice answered.
If he couldn't control the future...
"Hey, Lois?" He was going to seize the present. "It's Clark."
