Clark awoke to the chirping of his alarm clock.
"Uhh."
As he rolled over he felt something tugging at the bottom corner of his duvet.
"Okay Shelby, I'm up."
He groaned and delved beneath his soft sheets, wrapping his arms around the woman he had been waiting for for the whole of his life. The one woman who would accept him for who he was, superhero complex and all, and wouldn't use it as a reason against him. The one woman who he could love and fear equally and simultaneously. The one woman who Clark could trust his life, secret and sanity with and be confident that at least two of the three would stay safe - the most important two at least. And her name? Lois Lane.
'I know, it's hard to believe.'
Nuzzling into the crook of her neck, Clark inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of her. "Morning." he mumbled, nibbling on her ear.
"Mmm... Morning." Lois melted inwardly and the pair of reporters would lay there in a comfortable silence, that is, until... 'Behind the smile is great and nice, Beware of what is in his eyes. Looks like fun but he's after you, It's not so funny what that smile can do...' Both reporters sighed and reluctantly separated. "Hello? ...Oh, Tess? Hi... Late? Oh no we're not late, we're just chasing a lead over in suicide slums... Of course I'm not lying, we really are literally a second away from suicide slums... Okay, don't worry, we will."
"What did she say?" Clark grinned boyishly, pulling on a shirt over his bare chest.
Lois scrambled around, reaching into Clark's closet and pulling out some clothes. "Oh, just the usual. 'You two better not be canoodling back at the farm and need to have that story on my desk by tomorrow morning...' blah blah 'you'll be fired.' Okay, you'd better fly us in, I wouldn't be surprised if she's lo-jacked us."
Clark continued to smile at her, not believing his luck. He had finally gotten everything he had wanted and there was nothing, nothing, that could screw this up.
Belle Reve Sanatorium stood formidable and daunting as it always did, the outside a clear warning of the people who were emprisoned within. Pacing, ranting, raving. All of the patients - those who weren't tied up anyway - were engrossed in the hatred and fear of that daily routine that had been put in place in an aim to help them to get better again.
Harry Wright - now one of those patients - held a notebook in his hand and stood triumphantly before a gaping hole in the wall of his cell, watching as men and women fled from the site. Cackling with a crazed anticipation, he followed suit, striding out into the world free and more dangerous than ever. Behind him was the notebook, abandoned, forgotten, amongst the rubble. Hours later, when someone would discover the orderlies dead and patients missing, the notebook would be read and Wright's twisted mind would be revealed in eight short words:
Lois Lane
Clark Kent
I will have Revenge