FREEDOM OF THE PRESS
Part Seven - When All's Said And Done
At a remote cabin in the Canadian Rockies, a fire leaped in the hearth, warming the cosy space.
Martha and Jonathan Kent sat in comfy armchairs before the fire. Jonathan was fiddling with an archaic black-and-white TV set, turning the aerial this way and that in an attempt to get a clear signal.
"Leave it alone, Jonathan. Cameron will call us when there's any news."
The last few days had aged them both. First the shock of seeing their son cruelly exposed and tortured on the afternoon news, then the onslaught of media attention which followed. Finally Mr. Daley, one of their good friends of many years, called in his hot-shot lawyer son to help.
Young Cameron had seized upon the opportunity to put a new policy to the State, and now the Kents couldn't help but feel that they were no more than exhibits in a much wider case. Still, Cameron had secured them this quiet place to stay until it all blew over.
And through it all, they couldn't stop worrying about Clark. Of course, they knew Colonel Trask first-hand, having been held hostage by the maniac in Smallville several weeks ago, and witnessed the terrible effect that Kryptonite had on their boy.
Martha had wept for hours after the report ended with the dramatic footage of Clark being hauled away by the armed men. Jonathan had been on the phone to the Planet within minutes, only to be informed that there had been a further development which left Lois wounded and Jimmy almost dead. There was almost no way the situation could have gotten any worse.
An agonising two days had brought only more bad news as the 'sickness' came to light, which sent Martha into an indignant fury. She was appalled not only at the gullibility of the city-folk, but also their heartlessness, to suddenly turn on their hero and be so quick to call her precious son an alien threat!
Now they could only wait and wonder how Clark was doing. The last news they heard was of his tremendous self-sacrifice at the hospital, and the doctors would only say that Superman was being treated.
Martha frowned as she heard a noise outside, a soft crunching of the snow underfoot. What enterprising reporter had trekked all the way out here? She rose and went to the window, drawing back the heavy curtains.
"Jonathan, honey, I think there's someone…" she stopped, gasping as she recognised the figure trudging toward the door, his cape dancing wildly in the storm.
"Clark!" she exclaimed as she dashed over and threw the door open, immediately buffeted by a blast of freezing wind.
Clark, his bright costume covered in snow, stepped over the threshold into his mother's embrace, his eyes almost full with tears the instant he laid eyes on her. His father rushed over and joined the group-hug.
Ten minutes later and the family were seated round the fire with a hot mug of tea each. Clark felt truly safe again, and for a while it seemed that all his problems dissolved like snow into the heavy fleece blanket his mom had wrapped around him.
He told them briefly of Lois' ingenious idea to use UV radiation to save him, and of his trip round the world absorbing all the healing sunshine he could before heading to snowy Alberta.
"I feel like myself again," he told his parents, frowning, "But I don't know what to do now. I guess I have to go back, but as who?"
"As yourself, Clark! Superman was never really you," Martha reminded him, "Just your powers and my sewing skills!" She was pleased to see a smile crack his gloomy mask at this.
"And if Cameron's as good a lawyer as he thinks he is, you might still be able to have your privacy," Jonathan put in. "We all might."
Clark looked into his father's eyes.
"I'm so sorry, Dad. You shouldn't have to have your lives ruined because of what I am…"
"What you are is our son! Our lives might change a little, but you could never ruin them! You know, your grandfather always used to say that things turn out for the best, even though you might not see it right now. Okay, so they know Clark Kent is special. Doesn't change how they feel about you, or the fact that you dedicate yourself to protecting the world and being a great journalist."
Clark nodded. This is what he needed, his dad's wisdom could always make sense of any situation. His mother put her hand on his knee gently.
"And how many times have you sat in our kitchen wishing that things could be different between you and Lois?" She asked, that familiar hint of a challenge in her voice.
"God, Lois," Clark groaned, "What the hell am I going to say to her?"
"If I know Lois, it won't matter what you say. She'll need to bluster and rant at you for a little while, then she'll get over it and give you two a proper chance at a relationship."
"You think so?" Clark was dubious at his mom's prediction. Martha only smiled.
"When a woman is angry, it's just her way of telling her man she's really in love with him. Why would she get so emotional if she didn't care so much?"
Clark had to admit the female psyche baffled him utterly, but his mom's advice on that particular subject could always be trusted. He x-rayed through the stout wooden walls of the cabin briefly. It had stopped snowing.
"I guess it's time to face the music."
Lois wondered anew at the events of the last few days as she held the first hard-copy of tomorrow's Daily Planet in her hands. She could honestly say that few weeks in her life had been so pivotal, both to her feelings and, potentially, her future.
The headline before her read, "CLARK KENT, THE HIDDEN HERO". This was one of the few articles Lois had written in the past year which did not focus on Superman. This was the story of a farm-boy, raised to be generous and courageous, whose extraordinary origins had made him adopt a double life, to serve the community publicly as a brightly caped hero-on-call, and privately as an investigative reporter dedicated to bringing the truth to the people.
She had trawled her memory for all the stories Clark had told her about his life before the Planet, and become painfully aware that in the early months of their partnership she really hadn't paid much attention to the 'hack from Nowheresville'. He had travelled the world, learned ballroom dancing from a princess in some country or other…
Eventually she had resorted to ringing round his past associates, getting a clearer picture of the boy-Kent and of the young, green reporter who had moved to Metropolis to make his career. All this research, hours spent trying to put herself in the mind of a man raised as a human but so blatantly not one, had brought her to some extremely enlightening truths about why he had chosen to keep his identity a secret from the world, and from her. She quickly found that all the people on that fateful burglaries list had been saved by Clark one way or another, but subtly, secretly. It must have been difficult for him to do what had to be done and try to hide it at the same time.
Filled with these observations, her article portrayed a man with a fervent desire to use his amazing abilities for the common good, tempered by the fear that he would never live a normal life the moment people saw a man who could fly.
Lois' eyes strayed from her columns to the photo beneath. Perry had wanted a side-by-side of Clark and Superman, but Lois insisted that it should be only Clark, and she got her way. The picture was not one of Jimmy's artful press-shots, nor was it a nicely airbrushed portrait. This photo was from Lois' private collection, taken on her own modest little digital camera during a staff party. Clark's jubilant smiled played up at her from the page, his eyes sparkling with some joke or other. This was her partner, her friend, and Lois wanted the world to see him as she did.
"Tell me, Lois," Perry's soft rumble made her jump as usual, "It's a fantastic article, but did you write this for you, or for him?" There was a hint of amusement in the southern accent.
Lois straightened her shoulders and turned to the Chief, her chin high and haughty expression back in place.
"I don't know what you mean," she lied smoothly, "I'm going home."
The smile didn't leave Perry's face as she headed for the door. He couldn't help feeling sorry for Clark - what a handful of trouble he had fallen for in Lois Lane.
Butterflies swarmed in Lois' stomach, refusing to settle as the time ticked by. She'd spent more than an hour getting herself ready to face him, looking fabulous and feeling like a bizarre cross between a volcano about to erupt and a schoolgirl on a first date.
He was coming back tonight. He would come to her, she knew it. There was just some undeniable force, some magnetism that would bring him to face the huge question-marks that hung over their relationship.
But it was already gone nine o'clock. Where the hell was he?
Her drapes danced in the light breeze from the window, open in readiness for him to float gracefully through, and Lois looked up sharply at every emphatic gust of wind.
Damn him for making her wait, tense as a cougar and twice as bad-tempered!
She was on the brink of giving up the watch and going to get an early night, but she hated to think that her intuition had failed her. More than that, she hated to imagine that he might have given up on them and simply assumed there was no more to be said between them.
A knock at her door made her jump half a foot off the couch and grasp her stomach breathlessly. She cursed as she stomped over to the door, ready to bite the head off of some unfortunate salesman. As she opened the door, her first verbal attack died on her lips. Clark stood before her, his look composed and determined. Lois wondered how long he'd been stood outside her door, psyching himself up.
"I thought you'd be…" Lois gestured to the window, for some reason her words weren't flowing very well.
"I wanted to come this way for once," Clark replied, and Lois' eyes filled with concern.
"You mean, you can't fly? Didn't you--?" she began, and Clark was touched that her care for him transcended whatever anger she may hold, her eyes sweeping his body for signs of hurt and lingering on his hands, which had borne the terrible Kryptonite-burns.
"I'm fine, Lois. My powers are back to normal at any rate. I chased the sun round the world for a while and that seems to have recharged me."
This was safe conversation, at least. He figured he had a few seconds before the fireworks started.
Lois nodded, relief in her tense face. Clark felt guilty that he hadn't come back sooner. She looked like she'd been on the brink of her sanity with worry. She turned and went into the kitchen, busying herself with the coffee-machine in silence while Clark stood in the centre of her lounge like a defendant awaiting judgement. He shifted uncomfortably, remembering his mother's words. It didn't matter what excuses he had, she simply needed to get whatever she felt into the open, and the sooner the better.
Lois' mind was frantically trying to rehearse the opening line of this… well she hoped it wouldn't be an argument or a torrent of abuse on her part. She hoped she was bigger than that, but her emotions were certainly a volatile brew. Her thoughts were so loud in her head that she didn't hear him step up behind her.
"Say something, Lois," he prompted softly in her ear, a hint of a plea in his voice.
She turned to find herself inches from him, and looked up into his eyes.
"Y-you lied to me, Clark." It was a statement of fact. No fire there, no accusation.
Clark nodded his admission, "Yes. I lied to you."
Lois almost lost her next words as her eyes strayed to his soft lips, the calm set of his jaw. "And I was angry at that, for a while."
This surprised Clark. Did she imply that she'd already gotten over it? Impossible! This was Lois! She could hold a grudge over a game of Monopoly!
"But more than that, I was hurt."
Ah, now to the awful truth. Hurt was definitely worse than angry. Clark brought his hands up to her shoulders. His voice became soft and low as he poured every ounce of truth into his words. "Believe me that's the last thing I ever wanted to do! But that's the trouble with secrets, once you've had them a while, it becomes too hard to come out and admit the lie."
Lois could see the truth in his words - they could have been straight out of her article, but no way she was letting him off that lightly. Her eyes hardened as she shrugged out of his gentle grip.
"That's no excuse, Kent. We've been friends for over a year! You could have chanced it, could've dared to trust me--"
"I did, Lois. Or did you forget that night?"
Lois flushed slightly at the memory of his breathless promise. She remembered the wash of anxiety in his eyes… "You don't really know me." Then followed the newfound determination, the clarity with which he declared, "But you will."
"I made the decision I've always put off, I resolved to tell you who I am no matter what it cost me, but… Trask beat me to it."
The mention of the Colonel's name ended the game for Lois. She had forgiven him in her heart for the betrayal of trust, and it was mean to play with his guilt like this.
Without warning she slipped one arm round his neck and the other round his waist, drawing him to her in a fierce hug.
"I know Clark, and I'm sorry. Sorry it all turned out that way!"
Clark was more confused by Lois now than ever before. She could have won this argument hands-down and had him falling over himself to atone for his lack of faith in her, but instead she surrendered the whole thing. He felt the intensity of her embrace and returned it.
"I have something to tell you, but I'm not sure I like it." Lois ventured, her voice muffled in his shirt. She drew back a little, and Clark saw that there were tears lingering unshed in her eyes.
"When Trask died, I was glad. I hated him, I mean really hated him for what he did. I didn't think I could feel hate that powerful… when he pressed that Kryptonite into your hand--" she suppressed a sob, and reached down to touch the newly healed skin there.
"It hurt, sure, but not nearly as much as it hurt to think I'd blown my chance with you."
Lois wiped her eyes, a cheeky smile lightening her face.
"Smooth, Kent, very smooth."
Clark grinned back, "I thought so."
The humour was like a healing tide between them. They smiled at each other, all blame and guilt erased. Clark breathed deep and took a chance on the scary question.
"So, where do we go from here?" he was serious, but Lois' meaningful glance in the direction of the bedroom had him laughing again for a moment.
"You know what I mean, Lois," he went on. "The world knows who I am now, and it's gonna make living a normal life very hard… I don't want your life to be complicated by association."
"What, you mean more complicated than feeling guilty about your hopeless farm-boy crush on me, not realising it was really you I was longing for?"
She walked forwards, forcing his retreat in the direction of the couch. As they reached it, he sank backwards and she sat next to him, her eyes never leaving his.
"I don't want complicated anymore, Clark. I want simple. You and me. No identities, no secrets, just this--"
The kiss was intense, breathtaking. Clark lost himself in the passion of it, revelling in the fact that she had called him by his true name, that she knew all of him at last, and wanted him.
Breathlessly she drew away from him and went over to a drawer. "I'd like your professional opinion on this," she returned to his side and handed over a copy of the Daily Planet - it was tomorrow's issue. She watched Clark's face as he read the article which was her most honest testament of feeling for her partner.
Clark was quite simply blown away by Lois' latest work. All of his reasons for hiding himself behind the colourful hero were laid bare as if he had written them himself. He had worried about returning to Metropolis and having to justify his actions to the people, fearing they would not understand his driving need for a normal life, to fall in love, have a family, and do all the things that average Joes took for granted. Now he knew there was nothing to fear. Lois had given him far more praise than he thought he deserved in her article, but more than that she had made his explanation for him, with eloquence and passion. It was such a beautiful gift, this edition, from his loving and supportive partner. Clark looked up from the page with a lump in his throat, the thanks too sincere to be spoken.
Instead he took her in his arms again and kissed her tenderly. "I love you, Lois." He breathed. She returned the kiss with fervour, while her slim fingers fumbled at the buttons of his shirt and finally opened it, sliding inside to feel the embossed 'S' that should be there. Instead she felt only his warm, firm chest. She looked down in surprise and his gentle smile told her that he wanted to be only Clark tonight.
Only Clark… was all she wanted.
"Well, you've got a great tan…" she said, smiling, and went in to kiss him once more.
The End
Author's Note: Finished at last!! A HUGE thanks to all of you who stuck with this story despite the slow updates! And more thanks to everyone who reviewed and encouraged me! This fic has been a pleasure to write, and I hope you enjoyed it!