Story 9: I Can Let Go
Author's Note:
Okay, I really had no idea what to write this month. The Doom event was still going on, taking Clark to outer space and leaving Diana to defend Metropolis in his absence. This story is short with a bit of fluff, which is all I could muster at this juncture of the crossover.
"I can let go," Clark and Doomsday said in unison.
But Clark didn't want to let go, despite the seeming inevitability of it all. But to save Earth, to save Metropolis and Smallville, to save them all, Clark would . . . had to let go.
He'd promised to return to Diana. But not like this, never like this. Yet a dangerous fleet was headed to Earth. Superman alone wouldn't be enough to stop them all. God help him, he actually needed the monster who'd taken over most of him, including—slowly—his very mind.
Clark had tried, thought his plan was sure to work. But he was wrong, so very wrong.
When I flew past Mars two days ago . . . there were three quarters of a million rocks bigger than a kilometer in the asteroid belt. Now there are a couple hundred. I had this idea that if I just let go, I might burn this Doomsday infection out . . . and I could go home again. To the people who need me . . . the people I need. But the more I smash . . . the more terrified I become. Because that awful thing inside of me . . . is just growing stronger.
I can let go.
Yes Clark could, and lose himself completely and forever, leaving only Superdoom where Superman had once been.
"Feels good, doesn't it?" Doomsday had taunted Clark after they'd destroyed spaceships headed for Earth.
"What do you mean? Get out of my head."
"The anticipation," Doomsday clarified. Clark, to his dismay, was beginning to get used to the second voice in his head, no matter how distasteful, how disturbing. "No life signs on those ships—they're automated. You can just tear them apart, no guilt."
"I don't enjoy destroying things, automated or not."
"The old you, maybe. But you've let go of that guy, haven't you? He was a drag. You had to, in order to move ahead. You left if all behind—friends, that stupid job, even her."
Clark detested every venomous word pulsing in his head, a throbbing, constant ache. He especially hated the way the creature referred to Diana as "her." But yes, dammit, he'd left it all behind, including Diana. He'd left her to clean up his mess, to take care of Lois and Metropolis. And, stupidly, perhaps even arrogantly, he'd told her he would return.
It hadn't been a lie, but neither had Clark known whether he was capable of keeping such a promise. And, from the sad look on Diana's face before he'd flown away, he doubted she believed him, although she had to know it was his most sincere intention to do so.
But look at him now, Clark nearly gone.
I can let go.
He knew it was what needed doing, knew also he was powerless to stop his devolution. Yet he shoved against the monster within, fighting to give Clark space, fighting to bring forth one of a thousand sweet memories he had of Diana, memories, he feared, would soon be forgotten. But the one he'd pulled from the recesses of his mind was a new trinket of whimsical pleasure. A rare moment of fun and laughter for Superman and Wonder, for Diana and Clark.
"You're being a really good sport about this, Diana."
She smiled up at him, their hands intertwined and several dozen cell phones clicking away. The smile was lovely, if not a bit forced.
"Is this what Superman does after he saves the day, pose for celebrity photos?"
Diana was joking with him, but her comment wasn't far from the truth. Well, at least when it came to the residents of Metropolis. He didn't do this all the time, but Clark made it his business to speak to and mingle with the people when he could. And, of course, photos were always involved, whether he was in the mood to have his picture taken or not. Nowadays, cell phones and tablets were everywhere, capturing everything, sometimes too much.
"Kiss her," a tall balding man in the crowd yelled, his phone in the air, pointed at them.
"Yeah, kiss her," a middle-aged woman with two teenage sons echoed, one actually using his cell phone for something other than taking Clark and Diana's picture, while the other teen was doing a lousy job of pretending not to stare at Diana's long, gorgeous legs.
"Kiss her. Kiss her," the crowd began to chant.
To his surprise, Clark was actually enjoying their public outing. Outside of the time Clark had taken Diana to breakfast at a Smallville diner, dressed as Wonder Woman and he as Superman, they hadn't gone out in public as a superhero couple. Even that one time in Smallville wasn't like today. Then, people gawked because two Justice Leaguers were sitting among them. People gawked today because Wonder Woman and Superman, the so-called "Power Couple" had been spotted walking down the street like any "normal" couple, holding hands and laughing like carefree college kids.
"Kiss her. Kiss her. Kiss her." The chanting escalated, drawing more passersby and cell phones.
Despite the loudly chanting and growing crowd, Diana gazed at him with patient indulgence. "Maybe this was a bad idea."
Yeah, it probably had been, but Clark was done pretending that he and Diana weren't an item. The cat was out of the bag, anyway, and Diana deserved more than sneaking in and out of Metropolis when she wanted to visit him, concerned people would begin to wonder why Wonder Woman was in Metropolis so often.
Clark still wanted to know who in the hell had taken that picture of them and sent it to Cat. He'd promised to get to the bottom of the mystery, but he'd come up with nothing so far. Yet, in a strange way, the perpetrator had pushed Clark in the right direction and helped move the relationship to the next level.
But no, Clark had no intention of kissing Diana in public. They didn't need that level of attention again. As it was, strolling down a busy street in Metropolis during rush hour had indeed been a bad idea, even if Clark's good intention was to prove to Diana that he was okay with the public knowing about them.
He leaned in and whispered in her ear, "I'll kiss you later, right now we should leave. The traffic has stopped, and someone must've called the local television stations because I see two news crews about a half mile away."
Diana grinned mischievously, right before she planted a quick kiss on his mouth, and then bolted into the air, leaving Clark speechless. Cheeks heated from embarrassment, Clark realized he was surrounded by grinning, knowing women and men clamoring to pat him on the back.
Today hadn't been the first time a man, strangers and friends alike, had given Clark a thumbs up, head nod, pat on the back, or a "Way to go, Supes." Thankfully, Diana had made her escape when she did, because the last thing Clark needed was for Diana to learn that he'd often received "props" for "scoring Wonder Woman".
"You're gonna go after her or what?" A burly man with a black-and-gray beard pointed upward. "She's damn fast, and got one hell of a head start. Well, what are you waiting for? Go get your Wonder Woman and your kiss."
Clark didn't need to be told twice. With a quick, "Good day," to the crowd, he shot after his Wonder Woman and the kiss she owed him. Just in time apparently, because the news vans had just pulled up to the curb.
It didn't take long for Clark to catch up to Diana, primarily because the woman had only gone as far as the airspace above his apartment.
"Finished with your adoring fans?" Hands on her hips, Diana's grin was smug and undeniably cute. Hell, undeniably sexy.
"That kiss will be all over YouTube before you make it to Themyscira."
And that was the only down part about today. They'd had to squeeze in a couple of hours together between Clark's work schedule and Diana's visit home. That was par for the course for them. But she didn't have to leave just yet. They still had a few more minutes, and Clark had been wanting to do something ever since she arrived in Metropolis.
Clark held up his own cell phone.
"I've been meaning to ask you, why have you been carrying that thing around when you have a JL communicator?"
Diana flew closer, her jasmine scent filling Clark's nose.
"I want a little something to remind me of you when we're apart."
"That's sweet, Clark, and a little mushy."
"By mushy do you mean manly?"
"Umm, well, sure. You are, after all, the Man of Steel."
"And don't you forget it." He crossed his arms over his chest, giving Diana his best imperial posture. "Now, come here so we can take this pic before you have to leave."
Instead of doing as he'd asked, Diana pivoted and flew away—fast and high.
And the chase was on.
Clark took off, careening through the air, arms at his side, and eyes on his prey.
Diana was a spirited, aggressive flyer, darting under bridges and over buildings at an angle and speed that had Clark wondering who'd given the woman her pilot's license.
Clark sped up, just as Diana rounded the metal Earth of the Daily Planet.
She cut right, dipped, and avoided his grasp.
But Clark continued his aerial pursuit, laughing each time Diana avoided capture, her raised eyebrows worse than her smirk.
"Faster than a speeding bullet," she mocked. "I don't think so."
Okay, now she was asking for it.
Clark wanted his picture, and he would have it. He waited for her to circle the city again, traveling with an impressive velocity towards the lakefront district. Clark dropped several hundred feet below the clouds, knowing when Diana passed she wouldn't see him.
As he'd calculated, when she arrived at her destination and didn't see him, she stopped, swiveling from one direction to the next, trying to spot him.
Clark could hear her low curse, speaking to herself and in her native language.
Up he went, crashing through the clouds.
Clark's arms went around Diana's waist, tackling her and spinning them out of control.
Diana yelped, swore again, and then burst into laughter as they spiraled downward, picking up speed the longer they fell.
They rushed toward the checkered landscape, Diana twisting in his arms and kissing him once, twice, three times.
Then they were ascending, Diana having halted their free fall and altered their trajectory.
Heads in the opposite direction but next to each other, Diana's arm around Clark's head, her hand under his chin, Clark raised his arm, pointed his cell phone at them, and took their selfie. For good measure, he took three more shots, not knowing when they'd next get an opportunity like this.
Turning towards her, he claimed Diana's lips in a hard, deep kiss. The one place on his face she hadn't kissed during their midair tussle.
Straightening, they peered at the small screen. Clark had captured the playful moment perfectly, including the three lipstick marks Diana had left on his cheeks and forehead. He loved the way her blue eyes shown with radiance, with joy, with unconfessed love.
But it was all gone now, Doomsday having seen to that.
I can let go, Clark repeated to himself, pleased he had no cell phone now, for he wanted no selfie, no visual of what he'd become.
I can let go.
He did.
Diana, forgive me.