AN: I broke this chapter in half because I realized how long it is. I didn't know how I originally wanted to stop this one at first, that's why this chapter is like this... sorry.
[ Disclaimer: Superman: Man of Steel belongs to the Warner Bros. and whoever came up with DC Comics. The song "Kiss It Better" is owned by the duo He Is We. I own nothing ]
Kiss It Better
"Now he sits behind prison bars,
25 to life and she's not in his arms.
He couldn't bring her back with a bullet to the heart
In the back of the man who tore his world apart."
The more he walked down these alleyways, the more they looked like the ones parents would warn their children to not to go near, were they could get swindled out of their money or kidnapped away, yet the same ones that kids would dare each other to go down as a facade of bravado.
Dark alleyways were the least of his worries.
This would count to be the third night in a row that Clark wondered the back streets of Metropolis. He would do the routine every day: he would search the streets for that familiar face until the first rays of dawn would come, then he would return to his apartment and stare, vacant, almost entranced out the window once more, waiting for nightfall to it start over.
This was an odd routine that veered toward stalker territory to any normal human being, but not to a scorned Kryptonian. This is, in fact, their typical, expected reaction.
Clark patted his pants pocket, feeling the hard metal of the handgun.
He had lied to the authorities, telling the entire truth about the murder and the witness, but purposely leaving out the detail about the forgotten weapon.
Why?
He did not really know himself. But then again, this wasn't Clark anymore—not quite—this was a brusque and enraged alien at the end of his rope, driven by revenge.
Nights in a city were never quiet, which Clark—no, the alien Kal—was grateful for. Because then, the noise wouldn't draw so much attention, it would be muffled by the ambience of the city if he finally found...
He looked around, reading the street signs to make sure he hadn't walked the same road twice in the hours he's been out. His eyes were transfixed ahead after seeing that he hasn't; his mind blank, running on a skewed autopilot.
The rain had stopped for a day but had gotten worse as the night progressed. He would think about the damp trail across his apartment later, but right now only one thought was on his mind.
It had to be around the early morning, he picked up from the faint glow of light that would peek over the horizon soon, and was about to leave to go down another street when the sound of arguing caught his ears. Within seconds, Kal-El dropped down at the end of the street where the voices were.
No, not landed—it was neither careful nor graceful, and a dent in the asphalt was left in his wake.
This street was extremely narrow. Hardly any cars were parked alongside the sidewalk because there was no room; stairs led either down or above into buildings that, inside, housed multiple apartments.
His gaze darted from left to right, from one door to another, determined to find the perpetrator, the murderer.
He was driving on distorted automatic.
Further and further he walked, his heavy footfalls feeling like lead was in his legs and his head felt to be underwater and this all felt s unreal yet it all was. Louder and louder the yelling grew as he neared the end of the street. One voice was shouting about the other's carelessness; the victim tried to defend himself and failed. Kal-El didn't care to listen to details, only to decipher the two.
The voices were both male, one which he recognized right away and he quickened his speed.
No sooner had the conversation ended, three buildings down, a door slammed and a figure slinked down the steps and into the sidewalk. From inside, the sound of glass shattering as it hit the door just as it closed.
This was the man.
Kal stopped, watching for a moment.
The man looked around nervously before pulling his jacket tighter around himself and hurrying into the street.
Kal-El followed him.
Down one, then two blocks, the alien was sure to keep his distance, intent on seeing where this man was going. He knew that he would walk down one of the "shortcuts," which were one of the many narrow, dark alleys throughout the city.
Kal reached into his pocket, hand wrapping around the cool metal there.
And sure enough, a few minutes later, the man turned down a narrow path between two small buildings. It was the same alleyway Lois died in. Kal paused again before following, filled once again with rage that blurred his mind and reddened his vision.
The man pulled his hood further over his face. He had been getting chills for the passed minutes and felt as if someone was watching him but whenever he turned, there was no one there.
By this time, Kal-El was sure to make his footfalls heard. And when the man quickened his pace down the alley, Kal wasn't far behind this time.
It wasn't until they were halfway through did the man suddenly turn around one final time, just as Clark had done days ago. This time, the man did notice him. The man looked at him, skeptical, and then the feeling of dread washed over him.
Kal saw him swallow, the corners of his mouth twitching dangerously and his eyes widening. In the next second he was in front of the man, his murderer.
The first thing he noticed was Kal's bright, haunting, crimson eyes that glowed alone in the dim streetlights.
The man's was close to trembling. He was terrified.
Before Clark could think, the barrel of a gun was thrusted in front of him.
The man's words shook. "Don't move." His face threatened what his voice could not.
Kal took a step closer in defiance, daring him to shoot. He was going to make this man pay. He was going to wring his neck, having him feel as much pain as Lois and himself had felt that night. He wanted revenge. He was going to make this man, this monster cry until his throat hurt, holler until his voice became hoarse. He was going to—
A bang going off shattered the night.
Kal flinched, feeling the PLINK of the bullet on his side. He didn't think, couldn't think; his ears rung from the loud sound of gunshot. Not the slightest hint of surprise shown on his face though, as he stared into the man's eyes until finally looking down. He removed his hand to find it covered in red.
Then the pain set in.
The man jumped at first, hearing Kal gasp in pain. And as he stumbled, the murderer saw an opening and didn't hesitate to tackle Kal to the ground and land blow after blow across his face with one curled fist and pistol-whipping with the other, and surprisingly, it hurt.
The fight lasted minutes, and the man was gaining the advantage though his blows barely left an impact. But Kal was stronger naturally and more agile, and he soon had the tables turned, literally flipping the man into the air despite his waning strength.
The man realized he was caught in Kal's clutches, and if he didn't get away, he wouldn't—alive.
There was no such thing as restraint of power to Kal. Kryptonians were a proud and strong species who took pride in their abilities, specifically those in combat. They do not hide their uniqueness in comparison to other life.
The man did eventually get away, although it is rarely possible for a human to get far from the clutches of a creature intensively driven by rage. Especially if it is something much stronger, much swifter—such as a Kryptonian. It is proven scientifically, historically and logically.
He stared at Kal who was now facing the asphalt, his body lied crumpled on the cold ground. He had doubled over as another wave of unexpected pain shook him. The murderer stood over the alien; the gun had a small bent in its shape now. There were cinderblocks left by a stairwell nearby and the murderer wasted no time in running over and grabbing one, then coming to stand over the alien.
The cinderblock broke in two uneven pieces and Kal didn't move. His sigh was heavy—it is done, he thought. A part of himself told him so, although his intuition...
No sooner had the murderer turned and taken no more than three short steps, the clicking sound of a gun's chamber stopped him in his tracks, of bullets clicking into place. He didn't dare move, far too terrified.
"Listen good and carefully because I know you remember me." Kal huffed, his breathing heavy. Blood dribbled slowly from the small gun wound.
The gun made itself known against the back of the murderer's head. And his eyes widened to their max.
"Remember that woman you killed, here, that life you stole?" Kal didn't give him room to answer. "You took her life; you took her from me. You made us hurt—so much..."
'Us?' The murderer feared that he had crossed a psychopath or an excessively possessive.
The weapon was forced harder against the back of the murderer's skull, pushing his head slightly forward. His eyes were glowing a blinding red. "You will pay for all you've caused...feel as much pain..."
The man was a sweating mess now. Listening to this crazed man, this insane alien pour his heart out about everything he had done with a slip of the finger.
Kal whispered a final, dark wish, and the night shattered.
(End Flashback)