Chapter 32

Greenwich Village

Zatanna stood in front of the Hokus & Pokus Occult Curiosities shop conflicted as to what to do. She'd arrived straight from the Watchtower, confused and needing answers. The incident in Kingsport shook her more than she had let on. The anger that had run through her at seeing all that was like nothing she'd felt before. It was almost as if something instinctual had happened when she'd transformed the town back to it's original state. She'd never done anything like that, especially on that scale, in her life. It still wasn't enough though, even though she was able to return the citizens back to their original forms, the damage they'd suffered was already too much. They were in their last gasps of life even as they reverted. She felt so helpless, wanting desperately to be able to save them. Once again though it was proven, the ability to destroy is easier and more powerful than the power to heal. The sight of the teenager lying dead before her still haunted Zatanna. His wide lifeless eyes just looking out at nothing, his short innocent life cruelly and abruptly halted. She wasn't really that much older than him. She mourned for all those firsts he would never experience. Perhaps in mourning him, she was also mourning for herself, for another piece of her own innocence lost. Since that moment she touched down in Africa with Bruce she had been confronted with so much brutality and horror. She had always known intellectually these things happened, but nothing prepares you to come face to face with it. The person she was before that almost seemed lost now. She'd been fighting to hold on to that part of her, but with each new atrocity that Nathan committed, she felt it slip further away. Since Clark's attack the very things that used to bring her joy, like performing her act, seemed hollow and empty. If was as if she'd been touched by the evil Nathan was wielding and as he sought to transform the world, she was transforming as well. Her powers had always fluctuated wildly depending on her confidence, but lately they seemed to be growing. It was as if her emotions were feeding them, tapping into her anger and confusion. She was so mixed up about everything in her life that she needed to find some answers. That was why she was here. Steadying herself, Zatanna pushed opened the front door and stepped inside the store. The sound of some old Rod Stewart tune greeted her ears as she looked around for the proprietor.

"You seek answers," said a voice. Zatanna turned to see a blind woman step out from the shadows. Madame Xanadu moved slowly into the room, her hands lightly caressing each item on the shelves as she picked her way through the cluttered store. A white scarf covered her eyes, but she moved with a confidence.

"It is good to see you again, Zatanna," she said without a hint of irony.

"It's good to see you too, Nimue," Zatanna said with a smile. She moved over and embraced the woman. "It's been too long."

"Such is the way of life," Xanadu said, stepping away and slowly making her way over to her table. "You didn't come just to see an old friend, did you Zatanna?"

"No, Nimue, I need your help," Zatanna replied, moving over and sitting opposite Xanadu.

"This business with Nathan Occult troubles you," Xanadu said.

"Yes, but its more than that."

"You might not like the answers you find." Xanadu warned.

"I know," Zee admitted. "I've been lost lately. Everything seems so confusing and I feel like things are happening beyond my control. I didn't know where else to turn."

Xanadu nodded reluctantly before opening a gilded box on the table and taking out a deck of old, finely crafted Tarot cards.

"I'll ask you again, are you sure you want to know the answers?" Xanadu's voice was deadly serious.

"Yes, I've tried to do it myself, but that probably influences and obscures the answers. Please, Nimue, I need your help," Zatanna replied.

"As you wish," Xanadu reluctantly said. She shuffled the deck thoroughly before laying the first card down on the table. She lightly ran her fingers over its surface.

"The Page of Pentacles, very appropriate for a significator," Xanadu observed and then continued to lay the cards out. She arranged them in the Celtic Cross configuration, with five arranged in a cross and four placed vertically beside the cross. Another card is placed horizontally across the central cards of the cross to make a total of 10. Zatanna sat across from her nervously watching as each card was dealt. She was practiced in the art of the Tarot herself and had tried her own reading several times before coming here. As she scanned the layout of the cards, Zee saw her own interpretation of what they meant, but before she could say anything Xanadu cautioned her.

'What you see isn't always what is true."

"Yes, but some answers are plain."

"True, but as the querent you must allow for your emotions and feelings to influence what you see. Sometimes when we look with only our eyes, we see just the surface of things, not the complete truth.

"But the death card," Zee started to say.

"You believe it involves Nathan Occult,' Xanadu said, interrupting her, "or yourself."

"Yes."

"Perhaps it does, but that does not mean the two are linked. It is not your death the cards foretell, Zatanna."

"So its Nathan." Zee nodded.

"There are many kinds of death, Zatanna."

"I suppose," Zee admitted.

"What interests me is not Nathan, but the cards reveal there is another man," Xanadu said. Zee blushed and nodded, but then felt like an idiot nodding to a blind woman.

"Yes."

"You're in love with him?"

"I-I, um, ah, we, I mean nothing's been said, it's just, well, I don't know." Zatanna stammered and fumbled.

"Let's just say you care for him deeply," Xanadu offered with a smile.

"Okay," Zee admitted, blushing even harder.

"There are other emotions, troubling emotions you have associated with him, correct?"

"Yes, I fear for his safety. It may seem crazy to most but he's very vulnerable to magic. Nathan already attacked him once and injured him seriously. It was because of me he was attacked. I couldn't live with myself if I was the cause of him being hurt."

Xanadu didn't say anything for a moment, as if she were studying Zatanna.

"I see why you are troubled. The cards say you will make a mistake that will hurt him deeply."

"I know," Zatanna whispered, emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

"There are also many kinds of mistakes, Zatanna." Xanadu pointed out to her.

"Yes, but you've just confirmed what I feared." She didn't want to surrender to the emotions and quickly changed the subject.

"Nathan is trying to raise the Old Ones. Do you see whether he will succeed?"

"It is yet unclear,' Xanadu said. "There will be more pain and suffering before this is done. You must not give into your fears, Zatanna. Your confusion in all of this has clouded your thinking to what is really important. Don't lose sight of who you really are, Zatanna."

"How do I do that, when all around me I see the horror that Nathan is doing," Zee asked.

"You are not alone," Xanadu said. "Others will play their parts in this as well. Don't take this all on yourself."

"Thank you, Xanadu," Zee said, standing up from the table. "I should be getting back to Metropolis. I have a show to do, remember."

"The reading isn't finished, Zatanna,' Xanadu replied.

"Yes, but you confirmed what I feared. I will see you again," Zee said hastily and then left the store. Xanadu sat at the table after she'd gone, running her fingers over the laid out cards. The briefly halted over two cards, Judgment and the Lovers. Her sightless eyes gazed out towards the street as she slowly gathered the cards up and put them away.

Metropolis

To say that Milton's funeral was different than Lisa's would be an understatement. It seemed his rather unusual nature extended to everything, including his funeral. The first thing Clark noticed was the mall parking lot carnival set up in the empty lot next to the suburban home. As he walked in, Clark realized that that uniqueness was inherited. Nathan's parents came up to him and introduced themselves.

"Welcome to Milton, Jr's funeral, I'm his father, Milton Milton Sr. and this is my wife, Lola Milton," the tiny man said.

"Um, ah, nice to meet you, I'm Clark-Clark Kent," he replied. He looked down at the two tiny people add was surprised by their appearance.

"Oh, isn't that an interesting name, Clark Clark Kent," Milton's mom said with a smile. "It's so lyrical!"

"Actually it's just one Clark." He corrected her.

"Well, that's nice too," she offered.

'Um, thanks."

"You're a reporter from the paper, aren't you, Clark," Milton Sr. asked.

"Yes."

"Well, welcome to Milton's funeral. We tried to make it just like he wanted it. It's so hard to lose your child," Milton Sr. said, and then broke off as emotions started to overwhelm him. "I'm sorry, Clark it's just so tough right now."

"I understand, I'm really sorry, Mr. Milton," Clark offered.

"Thank you, but if you'll excuse me I think I need some alone time on the Tilt-a-Whirl," Milton Sr. said and then walked towards the amusement park ride.

'He's putting on a brave face, but inside this is really tough for him," Lola Milton offered.

"I'm sure it's tough for both of you."

"Yes, you never think you'll out live your child," Lola Milton admitted. 'We're trying to honor Milton Jr. today."

"So the carnival was at his request?"

"Yes." She nodded. "With his job he thought a lot about this sort of thing, as you can imagine. He didn't want it to be a sad occasion, but more of a celebration of life."

"He was unique," offered Clark, unsure what else to say.

"Thank you, now if you'll excuse me, more guests are arriving. Milton Sr. will be on the Tilt-a-Whirl for some time, so it's up to me to greet them. Help yourself to some cotton candy, Clark-Clark."

"Its just Clark, but thank you."

"Have it your way," Lola Milton said with a smile and then went to greet the newest arrivals. With a shake of his head, Clark moved into the carnival. He saw some of his coworkers already there. A clown came up and handed him an armband. Clark took it and saw that it said Milton Jr. on it. Glancing around he saw that everyone was wearing it, so Clark slipped it on. As he moved through the different rides, coworkers called out to him. He stopped and talked to several, thanking them for their well wishes. He told everyone it had been worse than it looked, but that he was still sore. As he stood chatting with Jimmy and Doris, he saw Lois standing off to one side. They hadn't spoken since the rooftop. Figuring it was now or never, Clark excused himself and made his way over to her. She wasn't looking at him, as a mime seemed bound and determined to try and entertain her.

"That's okay, I'm not really interested," Lois said to the man. The mime went through a series of gestures like he was trapped in a box.

"What is that? Is there something wrong with your arms? I'm not following anything you do," she said to him. The mime switched to pulling an imaginary rope.

"Oh, right, you're a mime, you don't talk, do you?"

The main nodded and continued.

"You can hear, can't you," asked Lois.

The mime nodded and stopped to look at her.

"Go away."

The mime reluctantly walked off. Lois wasn't sure but she thought she heard him mutter 'bitch" as he did. She was just about to say something back when she saw Clark.

"Hello." He tentatively said, stepping closer.

"Hi, Clark," she replied. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay, I'm a quick healer," he replied.

"Good, good."

"How are you doing,' he asked.

"Fine, I guess. It's been quite a couple of days."

"Yes it has."

They stood there, both uncomfortable, not sure what to say to each other. The new reality between them made this all so strange. Just when it seemed the silence would become intolerable, Cat Grant thankfully came over to both.

"Good to see you back on your feet, Clark."

"Thanks, Cat."

"Hell of a shindig, huh? I got to hand it to Milton, he was unique."

"Why a carnival," Lois asked.

"His mother said something about him wanting it to be celebration of life," Clark offered.

"A celebration of weirdness, is more likely," Cat wryly observed.

"It's a funeral, Cat, have some respect." Lois admonished.

"I'm sorry he's dead, but come one, it's a carnival funeral, Lois," Cat replied. "I'm a reporter, remember? We tend to notice little details like that."

"Still, his parents are right over there."

"Which ones are they? I didn't get to meet them earlier," Cat asked.

"That's his mother over there in the leopard skin outfit and I don't see his dad right now," Lois said.

"He's on the Tilt-a-Whirl," Clark offered.

"Oh, right, that's him in the lime green leisure suit."

Cat gave Lois a look.

"Okay, yes, it's a little weird." Lois finally admitted.

"Well, the food's good. I had the funnel cake and a candy apple, that were delicious," Cat said.

""I thought you were on a diet, Cat," Clark innocently asked.

"It's a funeral, Clark."

"Right."

"By the way, Lois, your eulogy at Lisa's was moving,' Cat said.

"Yes, it was." Clark added.

"Thanks," Lois replied. "I'm still not sure why she did it? I know she had this weird thing about fire, but it still doesn't make any sense."

'Who know, really," Cat said. "In the end, does it matter why? She saved your life, that's the point. I thought you hit it right on the head with that."

"I hope it gave some comfort to her parents."

"I'm sure it did,' Clark offered.

"Yeah, I think so too." Cat added. "For whatever reason she was a hero. Who knows why heroes do what they do anyway? "

"Maybe they just know they have to act because others won't,' Lois said.

"That could be," Cat admitted. "You know it is strange how Superman didn't show up. He's usually always around when something like that happens."

Clark stiffened at this, his own guilt flaring up.

"He can't be everywhere, Cat," Lois said, giving a sideways glance at Clark.

"He usually is, though,' Cat observed. "Oh, is that salt-water taffy? I have to get some of that. See you two later."

She quickly moved off in pursuit of the treat, leaving Lois and Clark standing uncomfortably together.

"Don't listen to her, there wasn't anything you could do," Lois finally said.

"Wasn't there?"

"No, he ambushed you," Lois replied. "No one can blame you for not saving the day."

"Tell that to Lisa and Milton's parents."

Lois turned and looked at him, seeing the guilt apparent on his face.

"You think you can rescue everyone? You're not a God, you're a human and humans aren't perfect. Would it have been better if that madman killed you instead?"

"That's not it, Lois,' he replied. "I should have seen it coming. I should have known."

"How could you? You can't be everywhere, Super-I mean, Clark."

"Like Cat said, I usually am, though."

"This time you weren't and people got hurt. You were one of them. Even with the way things are now with us, I'm still your friend. The world can't rely on Superman all the time. Some things are beyond even you."

"Maybe, but that doesn't change the fact that two people are dead and I could have, should have, prevented it."

"How can you say that," Lois asked.

"Because I know it's true, Lois. I was distracted. I wasn't paying attention. If Lisa hadn't done what she did, it would be your funeral I was at today." The words came rushing out before he could stop them. "You see I'm not just feeling guilty about their deaths, but also because I'm relieved it wasn't you."

She stood there, stunned by his admission. Some of Lois' own emotions came out.

"I didn't want to die, but because of what I did, Lisa's dead. If you want to talk about guilt, Clark, I understand that only too well. All those times you saved me; I never considered the risks you were taking. Since I found out who you are, I keep thinking how you're just a man like the rest of us. You can be hurt or worse everyday. I know we're not together any more, but I still care about you. When you were stabbed it hit me for the first time that you could die. I've been worried sick for that last few days about you. The one thing I keep coming back to though and it's the worst part, is that you didn't trust me enough. Why didn't you trust me enough to tell me? I can understand at first, but we've known each other for years. Haven't I proved myself to you, again and again? I find myself wondering if it was all just lies. You said you care for me, love me, but why couldn't you trust me?"

"I was afraid, Lois,' he admitted. His voice was low, as the emotions in her words hit him full on.

"Afraid of what? That I wouldn't protect your secret," she asked.

"No, not that," he replied, shaking his head. "This, Lois." He gestured around them.

"A carnival?"

"No, a funeral. I was afraid that if you knew it would put you at even greater risk. I guess I was trying to protect you, well both of us."

"What did you need to protect yourself from?"

"That if you knew, you would only see Superman, not me, Clark Kent," he admitted.

"I see," she said. "Do you really see me as that shallow? You wear this disguise all the time, yet you expected me to see passed it?"

"I guess I hoped that, yes,' he admitted.

"I seems we share something in common, Clark. I didn't see the real you and apparently you never saw the real me, either. We never really had a chance, did we?"

They looked at each, guilt and regret for so many actions washing over them. He couldn't find any words to offer to her other than, "I'm sorry."

Lois sadly just nodded her head. Part of her thought he was the great love of her life, yet now that didn't seem possible. Maybe some mistakes can never be undone, she thought. Lois felt the emotions starting to overwhelm her. She didn't want him to see her cry, to see how much this hurt her. She had to get away, anywhere but standing her with him.

"I'm-I'm glad you're okay," she said and started to leave.

"Lois." He called after her, suddenly desperate to try and make things right between them. He felt as if he was losing something very important. Somehow he knew this was a pivotal moment in his life, yet he didn't know why or how to fix it.

"No, Clark, don't, I need to leave now," she said, continuing to walk away. He stood there helpless, just watching her walk out of his life.

"Cotton candy?" A vendor stepped in front of Clark cutting off his view of Lois.

"No thank you," he quickly said, but when the man moved away, Lois was gone.

The Excelsior, Metropolis

Zatanna felt a sense of dread as she walked into her hotel. Police were everywhere and there a general sense of alarm. She made it to her floor before anyone stopped her.

"Miss Zatara," an officer asked.

"Yes?"

"There's been an incident in your room. I'm afraid it's not pretty."

"What-What happened," she asked.

Before he could answer, Zee sees a crying Carmen stumble from her room.

'Oh, God, he tortured him," she screamed, collapsing to the floor in tears. Zatanna started to push her way towards Carmen, but the police stepped in front of her.

"I'm sorry, Miss, but that's a crime scene."

"Will someone tell me what happened?" Zee was frantic now.

"He crucified him,' Carmen wailed. "He crucified the Bill, the manager on the wall. He said his name was Nathan! What kind of monster does that?"

It felt as if something gave way inside Zatanna. She would have collapsed to the floor, but the officer caught her. As the tears started, she kept mumbling why, why.