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Notes: Okay - wrote this one fast, but REALLY want this story to be over. Big thanks to everyone who still reads it, and gives me awesome feedback.
Part 7: Slipshod
"Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead." - Poor Richard's Almanac
Clark released her arm as the implication finally hit him. Fast and hard like a speeding truck.
His best friend was the Judas.
"Lex sent him back? Why?" The question caught in his throat.
Lois sighed. Her dark eyes glimmered with apology. "Look, I have answers for you, I do. But what I don't have is time. We'll deal with the whys later."
She turned back to Lana, who stood processing the information in stunned silence. Her head was down and her eyes blinked a steady beat. She was, no doubt, replaying every scene in her mind, trying to put together a puzzle that just wouldn't fit. It was the only thing a person could do when a revelation like that sent the world spinning. Lois had experience.
She touched her on the shoulder, snapping her from her daze. "I need you to go up to the loft and get my shoulder bag," she instructed. "You'll see an empty lead box next to Clark's storage chest. Bring that, too."
A moment later Lana had disappeared through the large double doors of the barn.
In the short time between finding out Lex was back in town and the present, Lois had come up with a course of action. Snap decisions were traditionally her Achilles heel, but in this particular instance received the distinction of saving grace. She was sure the plan would work. Now she just had to convince Clark of that.
The clouds had finally begun to break, revealing the last of the sun's muted rays. Just enough light to see by.
Lois took Clark's hand and forced his eyes to hers.
"Clark, listen to me carefully. I know this is a lot to process right now, but Trask needs to be our first priority. We need to stop him." She paused, simply because the weight of what she was about to say deserved it. "You need to fly."
A look of shame flashed on Clark's face as he tried to pull away. "You know I can't," he mumbled, miserably.
"Yes, you can," she assured him. She squeezed his hand a little tighter. "Superman isn't something you learned how to do. It was something that was inside of you the whole time. Find it, Clark." She looked pleadingly at the boy in his blue t-shirt and red coat - an echo of his future self.
He looked up at the sky, apprehensively. His eyes clouded with doubt.
"This is it." Lois' voice walked a fine line between steady and panicked, and was quickly edging towards the latter. "If we don't stop Trask, it's game over. Superman is gone. You're a marked man. And us...?" She shook her head. "I wish I could say we'd be together regardless, but I don't know – and it's not something I want to gamble."
"But -" He stopped when her hand touched his cheek.
"I believe in you. I just need you to believe, too." She gently pushed him back. "Now try."
Clark nodded. He closed his eyes and focused. He tried to find that place inside of him - that small part that connected him to his future self.
Just like before, he bent slowly at the knees, his muscles tensing in preparation.
And just like before he pushed off the ground with everything he had, launching high into the air.
But this time, he didn't come down.
The resulting wind whipped Lois' hair. "Wow," she exclaimed, breathlessly. No matter how many times she saw it, it never lost its magic.
"What just happened?"
Lois turned to find Lana, mouth agape and eyes skyward. She pried the bag out of her shock-frozen fingers and made sure everything was there. When it passed inspection, she pulled the drawstring tight and slung it over her shoulder.
"I'll explain everything," Lois promised. She grabbed the keys that hung from Lana's pocket. "Later."
Lana nodded absently as she stared at the clouds.
Lois gunned the Jeep's engine, jerked it into gear, and pressed down on the accelerator.
Cold air jet-streamed over Clark's body as he began to pick up speed.
It roared in his ears, a deafening drone. He reached his fists forward, as if it were the natural thing to do, and pushed ahead. He kept his eyes closed tightly, allowing something deep within to take control and lead him with a guiding hand.
Finally, he snuck a peak down as watched as the world whipped by him in a colorful blur. Clark smiled, widely.
In an instant a lifetime of doubt evaporated and Clark Kent could finally see his true purpose.
Hundreds of feet below, tending to his newly harvested tomato plants, a farmer looked up to see a man in blue and red streak across the evening sky.
Clark caught sight of his truck just outside of the gates of the Luthor estate.
He angled down towards the ground and barreled full force into road, causing Trask to veer off course. Clark quickly recovered from his crash landing, leaping to his feet and making steady stride. The truck was on the bevel, the right half sinking into a water-filled ditch. Trask wouldn't be able to right it in time, but Clark shot out the front tires to be sure.
The side door creaked open, and Trask staggered out. He cradled his head, the evidence of a fresh wound blossoming purple on his hairline. He shook the dizziness off and looked at Clark.
"Hello, Mr. Kent, or should I say 'Superman'?"
Clark ignored him, bridging the distance with long, confident strides. His attention was pulled to Trask's coat pocket, where a section of yellowing paper peaked out. "You have something that belongs to me."
Trask's lip's curved into a greasy smile. The one that made Clark want to rip it right off of him. "Why yes I do. And I think it's about time that I give it back."
He reached back into the truck and returned with the bright, luminousness chunk of Kryptonite he had stolen from the loft.
Clark reeled backwards. He feebly shielded his face from the meteor's stinging waves, as Trask stood laughing.
"It's funny. The one thing that connects you to your home planet - the one thing that made that long journey with you - is the one thing that can kill you." He stroked his chin, thoughtfully. "It's almost poetic."
The rain had turned the dirt road into a muddy mess. When Clark fell to the ground, it made a wet slap.
Trask tossed the glowing rock in his hand. "I have waited for this moment for a long time, Superman," he confided softly as he crouched by Clark's side.
The pain was unbearable now. It pulled at every inch of him, white hot and searing. Clark groaned and rolled away slowly. He tried to brace himself, but in the slick mud his hands slid right out from under him.
Trask set the stone by Clark's side and stood up. Clark watched through blurry eyes as Trask studied him in amusement. He glanced down at his watch, as if he knew just how long it would be before Clark's now mortal frame would give. As if he had it down to a science. Finally his gaze returned to Clark, and on his face appeared the unmistakable look of a man who knew he had won.
But just as quickly as it had come, it left.
Trask let out a low bellow when Lois' foot connected, squarely and solidly with his mid-section. He fell to the ground clutching what was surely a set of newly broken ribs. Lois laid another hard foot into the side of his head, knocking Trask cold.
"Payback's a bitch, huh?" she spat, snatching not one, but two scrolls of Templar from his jacket. She folded the pair neatly and placed them in her pocket. "Enjoy the concussion."
She was at Clark's side in heartbeat. He knew this because the thud of his heart felt like a sledgehammer to the chest, thanks to the Kryptonite. She swept the wet bangs from his head, and thumbed some of the mud from his face. "Are you okay?"
He wanted to tell that now that she was there, he was. "The kryptonite," he panted threw gritted teeth. It was still too close.
Lois looked over to where the rock sat inches away and nodded. "I've got the lead box in Lana's car." She scooped it up and broke into a run.
Relief crashed over Clark as Lois put distance between them. He didn't just see it. He could feel it. Like ice on a sunburn. A tall glass of water after a march through the desert.
He flopped onto his back and let out a deep breath. He felt his cheeks and found his skin was still hot to the touch. His shoulder throbbed, and he hoped the wetness was just mud. He knew he should try to assess it properly, but instead he stayed perfectly still, and his eyelids fluttered and shut.
And then, from far away he could hear the screeching of tires.
Clark used every bit of strength he had left to sit himself up. When he did, he saw that the Jeep was gone.
His eyes swept the road. "Lois?"
"Sorry." Trask sighed, as if disappointed. He kicked Clark in his bad shoulder, causing him to scream in pain. The force, however, knocked him off balance and sent the exhausted and battle-worn soldier back into the mud.
Trask staggered to his feet. He swayed as he reached into the holster at his waist and produced a pistol.
Clark struggled to get up, but found his limbs useless. He sat, paralyzed, staring down the barrel of a mad man's gun.
Trask wiped his brow. He displayed his hand for Clark to see, now wet with blood. "You may bleed like a man, but you'll never be one."
He took shaky aim at Clark's head and smiled.
"Are you faster than this speeding bullet?"
Crack.
The sound of the gun shot hummed in Clark's sensitive ears as Trask fell to the ground. A small stream of blood leaked from the bullet wound on his forehead.
Clark turned.
He saw the white knuckled grip of Lex Luthor still tight on the trigger.
Final chapter: Exeunt
(Note: The final chapter will be posted tomorrow (say wha?) Along with the trailer to the sequel - The Guardian. )
