Disclaimer: I don't own Superman.
Bum...bumbumbumbumbumbumbum...bumbumbumbumbumbumbum...bum bum BUM!
This is it, the most intense chapter I've made so far...and by far the longest, haha. Ooh, be prepared to get knocked back onto your feet! But don't be sad, it's not the end. Seriously, this is way intense, it'll blow your mind.
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Lois walked the rest of the way home alone. He had insisted on taking her himself, but she managed to convince him otherwise. Maybe others would be hurt because he was attending her. He only left when she promised to call for help in the case of an emergency, no matter how angry she was at him. Frustrated, she promised she would, while at the same time swore to not get in any danger.
It was still cold, but she didn't notice. Fear and adrenaline kept her warm, and she barely noticed that she had reached the house until she fumbled the keys, nearly dropping them. Upon entering the house, the first thing she noticed was the delicious smell, something that she had lost when Clark moved out. Confused, she took off her coat and hung it on the coat rack.
"Lucy? Jason?" she called, walking into the kitchen. She relaxed when she saw her sister's warm smile, but went cold when it suddenly disappeared.
"Lois! What happened?" cried a worried Lucy Lane, and Lois winced. After the attack, she had forgotten to straighten her blouse, which must be horribly ripped and wrinkled by now. Also, her hair was a mess, and she had forgotten to smooth it. One heel was broken off, and her shoes were a mess from running in them. Lucy stood and drank in the disaster.
"Lois...did you...did you get..." stuttered Lucy, sounding almost as bad as Clark. Lois gaped, trying to find an answer. In the end, she decided to stick with the truth. It was the easiest, and she was tired of lying; Superman wasn't the best person to lie to, especially if you were acutely aware that he never lied.
"Let's just say I turned out to be the damsel in distress again, Lucy," muttered Lois, turning to go to her room. Maybe it was a bad idea to talk to Lucy, after all. Lucy seemed to think otherwise.
"Lois, you get back here and explain! You nearly scared me to death!" wailed Lucy, running after her older sister to fling her arms around her. Lois sighed, turning to walk back to the kicthen.
"He did it again. I'm so tired of this! Why can't he leave me alone for once?" whimpered Lois, dropping her head in her arms. Lucy patted her back, the consoling sister once again for the umpteenth time this month.
"Well, if he wasn't there..." started Lucy, but Lois cut her off.
"If he wasn't there, I wouldn't be here, yeah, I know...but he could have just gotten the police or something...it's not like I was in a hurry. I had a bit of time, stalling time." She was lying to herself, but it was better than the truth. Sometimes it was okay to wallow in self-pity once in a while.
"Now, where's Jason, I need to see him," she said, looking around. Lucy pointed to the bedroom. It wasn't late, so she knew he wouldn't be sleeping...then what was he doing?
She entered the room, catching him kneeling by the bay window before jerking around and picking up his crayons. He started drawing, obviously hiding something. She raised an eyebrow.
"Honey...what are you doing?" she asked, trying not to be blunt. He looked up at her with those big, innocent, blue eyes...His blue eyes. Lois didn't back down, though. It was important to never let him get the upper hand.
"N...nothing," he stuttered, breaking eye contact and looking away. She almost smiled. He definitely had his father's skill for lying.
"So...what are you drawing?" she asked, seeing him coloring vigorously with the blue crayon.
"Superman," answered Jason immediately, and Lois frowned. How could he be so obsessed with Superman? Well, seeing as the rest of the world was...and seeing as it was his father...but Richard was his father, too. Why wasn't he so obsessed with him? Oh yeah, the little lack of superpowers; superpowers that Jason himself would one day wield. Lois noticed the open window, and walked over to close it. She almost locked it, but stopped herself. Superman deserved to see his son, even if he didn't dererve to see her.
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Clark wasn't sure whether to start laughing or not. It was funny in an odd, sad kind of way. Did she really consider him her boyfriend? Hadn't they gone over this? Frustrated and confused, he started to chuckle.
He wasn't quite sure where to go, or what to do. It was quiet, it was in the middle of the night, and he had nothing to do. Flying up, he started flying west at an amazing speed. It was actually seconds before he reached the sun. Sighing, he flew up directly into the fantastic heat, stretching and having an all-around incredible sunbath. It felt fabulous...he could feel strength searing to his very fingertips. For about an hour, he followed the sun, sunbathing until he got bored and felt ready to burst with might.
Brow furrowed, he tried to think of something to do, but came up with nothing. Was he really that boring? Was there nothing he could do, absolutely no way to get rid of this endless energy? Maybe that was why he couldn't give up superheroing; not only would people suffer for his decision, living as Clark Kent forever would kill him. There had to be something to do on a Friday night. What did normal men do? Go to movies? A waste of time. Find women? Also a waste of time. He had a woman...kind of. Well, Clark Kent did. Maybe Clark Kent did have a life. A woman preferred him over Superman...was that good or pathetic? What was there to do on a Friday night? Hmm...there was a big celebrity party going on...no, no, he couldn't. Well, it would be funny...nope, no, no way. Smiling, he imagined spending his time trying to break every world record there was...he laughed at the thought of 'most bounces on a pogo stick,' and laughed harder still at the one he could never break. 'Most body piercings.'
Floating down to a secluded area, he changed back into Clark Kent and strolled the streets, wondering what to do. A newspaper tumbled across the sidewalk, looking like a modern western scene. The one with the tumbleweed. All western scenes have to have a tumbleweed. Picking it up, he noticed a small article, almost squished by another article about lawn mowers. The picture showed an elderly lady and two ragged children, standing outside of a large but tattered building. The article was actually so small that he had to use his super vision to zoom in. It was about an orphanage, an orphanage that existed on charity. Government wouldn't fund it, and it didn't make enough buisness to fund itself. The roof was obviously collapsing, and the children looked thin. It seemed there was nothing he could do to help these people...wait...charity...hmm...
It wasn't hard to follow the address without getting noticed. He just flew above the city, scanning the street signs. He was interrupted twice, once to put out a fire and once to catch some bank robbers, but his mission went generally smooth. Flying silently, no one noticed him land in the empty streets. It was quiet, and scanning the building, he saw that the children were asleep. He flew to the roof, surprised when it groaned under his weight. Even if it wasn't strong, it should be able to support him. Reaching down, he pulled a nail easily from its place. It was old, rusted, and bent, barely in. Clark smiled a little. Maybe...
Focusing his heat vision, he melted the rust away, careful not to melt the metal. It was tricky, but do-able. Then, he used his heat vision to melt the metal into a soft lump, working it with his fingers into the shape of a freshly made nail. Grinning with success, he placed it to the wood and pushed, sliding it smoothly into place.
He finished the roof in record time. His super speed allowed him to re-nail the entire roof in less than twenty minutes. He could have been faster, but he didn't want to wake the children. Leaving the roof, he jumped to the ground and surveyed the brick walls. They were cracked and old, and he could actually see inside the building. Smiling again, he focused his heat vision on the cracks, welding them neatly shut. He continued this until the building was as secure as it must have been many years ago, when it was first built. Feeling rather proud, he turned to leave. This shoudld give the reporters something to write about; a building completely repaired overnight. This was exactly the kind of publicity the orphanage needed. The issue of money was no longer a problem.
Looking through the walls, he found that it was only half after nine. He nearly screamed with frustration. What did a guy have to do around here to kill some time? He sat down on the steps, trying to think of a way to spend the rest of his weekend.
Suddenly, he felt a small tap on his shoulder. Leaping to his feet, ready for the worst, he saw a small girl, about Jason's age. She had thin, dirty blonde hair (not the color, just dirty) and large green eyes. Her clothes were ragged and torn, so it must have been freezing for her to be outside in them. Sniffing, she wiped her tiny nose.
"Superman?" she asked in her quiet, thin voice. She was positively skinny, her arms like tiny sticks poking out of her nightgown. He stared for a moment, then regained his composure.
"Yes?" he offered, trying not to smile. If he wanted to look like the powerful icon of earth, usually it require a little less smiling and a little more awe-inspiring seriousness. She didn't seem in awe, though. With one minute finger, she gestured for him to come closer. Cautiously, he sank to one knee, almost eye-level with the little girl. He still had to bow his head to make eye contact, though, being about six foot three.
Moving with the quiet sureness of a cat, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and he blinked, surprised, before carefully placing his hands on her narrow shoulders. She was so fragile, he felt he would break her if he tried hugging her back.
"Thank you," she whispered, so quietly that if he wasn't Superman, he never would have heard it. He smiled gently.
"You're welcome." Maybe he just needed to slow down and take time for things like this once in a while.
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Lois sat in her room, making a list of possible men in her life. Superman was ideal, but he was never around. Clark was perfect, but would he be enough for on-the-go, exciting Lois Lane? Well, not that exciting. After all, she was at home on a Friday night, making a stupid list because she had nothing else to do. Chewing on the eraser, she thought long and hard. Clark was preferable, but he made it obvious he didn't want a relationship. Superman wanted one, but currently thought she had a boyfriend, Clark, which she didn't. Oh, the endless questions without answers. Suddenly, her phone rang, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Picking it up, she answered in a shaking voice.
"H-hello?"
"Hey, it this Lois?"
"Yeah, who's this?"
"Uh, it's me, Tom...from the bar?"
"Oh, right, I almost forgot you got my number..."
"Hey, I was just wondering, if you weren't doing anything tonight...I mean, I know it's kind of short notice and all..."
"Are you asking me on a date?"
"Well, no, not really...I mean, yeah, yes...kind of..."
"Well, if this is a date, no. If this is an opportunity to get to know a nice guy better, then sure, why not." She wasn't interested in another boyfriend, but it wouldn't do to just shoot the poor guy down. He had such potential.
"Yeah...yeah, that'd be great! I'll...I'll pick you up at...ten? You live a few minutes away from the Daily Planet, by the bay, right?"
"Um...yeah." How much exactly did she tell him?
"Okay...okay, great...I'll come and pick you up, and maybe we can go to the park or something."
Lois hung up, stunned. Was this another guy she was dragging into her dysfunctional, screwed-up life? Oh, no, he definitely didn't deserve this. She'd have to warn him about the dangers of meeting her...like a jealous ex, for one.
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Lois came home a few hours later, a little disappointed. The instant Tom had heard who she was and who her ex was, he literally ran like a scared rabbit. Was her life that scary? Maybe it was.
Lois now fully appreciated every single friend she had. Before she went to bed, she called up Richard just to talk, kissed Jason on the forehead, even though he was already asleep, and gave Lucy a hug, even though her sister was grumpy and tired. Flopping down on her soft, wolcoming bed, she wondered what she could do for Clark. He was there for her in every aspect of her life, unlike a certain superhero whose name shall not be mentioned. He was always there, supporting her in the background, letting her take credit, and running forward to catch her when she fell. When was the last time she had done something for him? As a friend? There must be something she could do to show him that she could be there for him, too. Smiling, she suddenly came up with an idea, a crazy, fantastic idea, something that could represent all the years of getting to know each other.
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Clark collapsed onto the unused bed. Bruce had fixed him up with a nice, not too expensive apartment, and all that was left to do was to buy the furniture. Having not eaten or slept for quite a while, and having left all of his money in the bank before he left, he had a rather large amount of spending money; actually, a small fortune. Working at the Daily Planet and never needing to spend a scent on food or furniture had really paid off.
He wasn't tired, just a little in need of comfort. He hadn't had cooked himself a decent meal in months, but he didn't really need to eat. It was nice, though, to have the luxury of eating once in a while. Switching on the television set, he tried to lose himself to the blank stare that the television seemed to induce, but was unable to. It was just so...boring. Yawning, he closed his eyes, rolled over, and slept.
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Work was the last thing that Clark Kent really felt like doing. He was frustrated and grumpy, having had his sleep interrupted seven times during the night. Even though he didn't need to sleep, he still enjoyed it every now and then. Feeling like the world was out to get him, he stepped into the elevator.
The office was crowded and stuffy, and Clark wished he could feel the sun. Working his way carefully through the crowd, he managed to reach his desk. He looked around, saw that nobody was watching, and started typing up his report at high speed. It was high enough to finish within minutes, but not quite so high that it was suspicious. The noise irritated him, and he typed faster.
"Hey, Clark!" A way too cheerful voice called him. Clark yelped and instantly stopped typing. He turned around to face Lois, who looked amazed. He gulped, hoping she wouldn't suspect...
"Wow, you type fast," she commented, shrugging. He let his breath out. Maybe she would never find out, maybe his true identity would remain a secret forever. She looked around, scanning for Perry.
"Hey...come on, I have to show you something," she whispered, grabbing his arm and leading him towards the elevator. Clark was confused. She didn't usually act like this. Keeping secrets was not the strong point of most reporters. She literally dragged him into the elevator.
"Lois, where are we..." he stuttered, stopping when she pushed the top button, the rooftop. He wondered what she was planning. The rooftop was usually saved for when she felt miserable or depressed, and needed to be alone. Right now, she looked cheerful beyond belief. He watched her face carefully. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a thin scarf.
"Okay, before we go up..." she said, holding up the cloth up with one hand and gesturing for him to lean over with the other. He sighed patiently and meekly obeyed.
"Lois, what are you..." he started, but she practically snarled at him.
"Shut up and stop moving, I have to tie it!"
Clark could hear her smiling, and he grinned, too.
"Okay, fine."
He heard the door open, and she led him out by the elbow. He could have looked through the thin material easily, but he trusted her and decided to humor her.
"Okay...take it off..."
He reached up and gently pulled the cloth above his eyes. His eyebrows raised to meet his shaggy bangs, and the goofy grin spread slowly across his face.
There, on the cold, gray tile of the roof, lay a thick checkered blanket, complete with a wicker picnic basket. Around it was a gathering of food, varying from a luscious chocolate cake to steaming little eggrolls, lined up side by side. He stared at it for a moment, then at Lois, who blushed a little.
"What?" she asked self-consciously, twisting her fingers. Clark chuckled.
"Don't you think we're a little old to be having a picnic?" he teased, pulling her into a warm hug. It was rather chilly on the roof. She laughed and hugged back.
"Well, fine, let me just take this cake and go give it to Perry, maybe I can get a nice fat raise," she giggled, taking his hand and leading him to sit on the comfortable blanket. He picked up a paper plate as she picked up the cake knife.
"Here, let me," he offered, reaching out for the knife. She quickly snatched it out of his reach.
"Okay, two problems with letting you cut this here cake. First, you're my guest, so you can't do anything. Second...what, do you thin my womanly strength isn't enough to lift the kinfe? Huh?" she smiled, reaching over to smack his arm. He laughed and put up his hands defensively.
"First, it doesn't matter if I'm you're guest, I'm trying to be gentlemanly. Second...your womanly strength definitely isn't enough to lift the knife, sorry." He laughed and she glared at him while trying not to grin.
"Okay, funny man, I'm going to ignore that one, but just so I can totally prove you wrong. I can lift this knife just about as easily as you can," she said, cutting a thick slice out. Licking her lips, she aimed for his plate.
Abruptly, a rolling grumble of thunder erupted from the bowels of the sky. Lois looked up, horror etched in her face. A large, cold drop hit her directly between the eyes.
"Nooo!" she shrieked, leaping to her feet. Clark leapt up, also, confused. He hadn't felt the rain.
"Lois?" he asked, reaching towards her. She saw it coming before it reached her. The sky had started belching ugly, gray city-rain a few blocks down, and it absolutely poured. Horrified, she looked back at the perfect lunch she had worked so hard to make, drinking in the delicious scene for one final second before the rain hit.
It was like suddenly getting a bucket of water dumped directly over her. The raindrops struck them with alarming speed and force, their freezing coldness icing her and rasing goosebumps. Clark actually laughed, but Lois just couldn't take it anymore. The horrible stench of failure lingered everywhere around her, choking her, drowning her. Wailing the chilling cry of a banshee, she covered her face with her cold, wet hands and sobbed. Why was everything going wrong in her life?
Clark stared at her, alarmed. Her distress forced a powerful, aggressive side to emerge, ready to tackle whatever was causing her such anguish, be it the rain or the very sun that gave him power. For a moment, he stood, fighting an internal battle over whether or not to blow away the clouds and make her happy. Unable to decide, his body decided for him. Moving swiftly and surely, he walked over to her and enveloped her in his warm, firm grip. Crying a little more softly, more like a kitten now, she collapsed into his chest, beating him with her little fists. He took her blows with the patience of a grandfather to his grandchildren, waiting until she was quite done. Exhausted and sniffling, she quieted into soft whimpers. All of the pent-up emotion and disappointment was just released in a matter of minutes, and she was tired. Clark looked down at her.
"Lois?" he murmured gently, meeting her eyes. She looked up, her red-rimmed, tear-filled eyes meeting his own dark ones, and he ducked and caught her lips in a kiss.
After a moment of stunned shock, she responded, kissing him back deeply. He was passive, and allowed her to dominate him. He didn't want her to recognize his...style. He acted shy and unsure, letting her hands run up and down his arms, reaching up to snatch handfuls of thick, dark hair, and lowering to feel the muscles of his back. Frightened, he tried to slow down, but he didn't find it possible. He missed her so much, he was unable to pull away. He managed to seperate, though, and found his breathing ragged.
"Lois..." he started, his mind fighting visciously with his body. It was a battle of will over instinct, and so far, instinct was succeeding. He couldn't step away, yet he couldn't continue. Lois answered the question for him, kissing his cheek and traveling down his jawline, cherishing every stubbled inch of skin. Passion grew, and he tangled his hands in her wavy hair, loving every sensation. Her hands found their way under his shirt, feeling the grooves of his shoulderblades and traveling down until...
Clark gasped, and tried to pull away, but it was too late. Lois didn't let go, grasping his lower back with her nails, which of course didn't pierce. Of course. Eyes wide, she stared into his face, and he could see her mentally removing his glasses, brushing his hair back, though she didn't do either; she just stared.
It was there. It was there, the tiny scar of rememberance, the scar that Lois herself had made, though she did it to save his life. Superman's life. Clark's life. Of course.
She couldn't tear her eyes away. Of course. It was so absolutely obvious, she kicked herself a thousand times for not seeing it. But Clark...he was so different. Nobody saw him from how he looked, only how he acted. Hell, even if he walked into work without glasses, nobody would notice. It was just Clark.
Tears filled her green-brown eyes as pain filled his, pain for hurting her like this. Why, oh why didn't he trust her? Why did he hide this from her? She slid her hands out of his shirt, traveling up his sides and ending on his broad shoulders.
"Kiss me like you mean it," she murmured, almost mouthed. He watched her for another ten seconds, painfully, regretfully, tearfully. Then, he seemed to come to a decision.
"I'm sorry."
She closed her eyes, feeling the choking swell of grief and hurt. It seemed to overwhelm her, swallow her, until...
Suddenly, she felt his lips on hers, but he didn't even do anything...he just stayed still. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with amazing force that nearly blew her mind open, like a funnel into the past which she was traveling in top speed in, everything sped through her mind, flashing in visions of light that suddenly made sense and fit perfectly into the puzzle. Niagra Falls, Clark...Jason. Not Jason, but...the night he was brought into her life. The last scene blew her off of her feet, and yet made absolute sense. The kiss; the last kiss he had given her, the one that stole her life and her memory.
Sobbing, she collapsed, held up by Clark, Superman, Kal-El. She couldn't stem the flow of tears, nor the visions that passed through her mind again and again. It was like it would never end, torturing her with memories.
Clark held her, and she cried in his arms yet again. This time, though, she cried for a new reason. She cried because possibly her most valued memories were swept from her barely after she recieved them, cried because she hated the man that held her, cried because he didn't deserve to know it.
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Okay, okay, before you scream and claw my eyes out about that last part, she doesn't hate Clark, really...she just hates what he did to her. Just wanted to clear that up, because I couldn't find a way to re-phrase that sentence without losing the intensity. Admit it, it was intense. Now...see that little button in the corner? Click it. Oh yeah, and I'd like a big round of applause for my bis sis, not only did she proof this chapter, she helped me with a few ideas...like the book of world records, I thought that was rather funny...and with how Lois would find out...though that one was mostly me. So, click that little review button and tell me what you think!
