Chapter 29

Green and white graphics flashed across the screen with the letters 'WBGS'. The scene parted to show two news anchors: a young blonde porcelain-skinned woman and a young dark-haired olive-skinned man.

"Hello welcome to WBGS news. I'm Tammy Skodack."

"And I'm Jeff Huang."

The camera focused on Tammy: "Our top story tonight is the aftermath of the battle between Lex Luthor and Superman. Sporting what appeared to be a mechanical suit Luthor was captured on cellphone footage fighting Superman in a super-charged battle royale culminating in a shot fired by the Senator and CEO."

The camera switched to Jeff: "Although the intended victim seems to have been Superman, an unknown vigilante took the bullet for him and was critically injured. No one knows the whereabouts of the young woman or what state she is in. After the astonishing display, Lex Luthor has been arrested for the attempted murder of Superman, assualt with a deadly weapon and destruction of property...," Jeff said until the scene changed to a talk show.

Four women sat on a couch having a discussion.

One of the women who had mocha skin and braided hair spoke, "Even if he hadn't been arrested, which he deserves to be arrested and put in jail for a long time! His Senate career was dead the moment he struck a blow against Superman and buried when he shot that kid..."

The scene changed again to two anchors one a brown-haired light-skinned man and the other a red-headed woman having a heated exchange.

"I think Lex Luthor is a hero. He fought Superman, who is a threat-" said the man.

"Lex Luthor endangered the public for his own gain! And he shot a kid!" shouted the woman.

"A vigilante!" he sneered.

"Still a kid! He deserves everything he gets...," she said heatedly.

The scene changed again to an anchorwoman with light brown skin and long black hair speaking.

"...The now disgraced Lex Luthor is facing even more repercussions than his damaged reputation. On top his assault and attempted murder charges new information from an anonymous source has been released regarding LexCorp activities including interference with a military operation and the illegal storage of what Superman has called Kryptonite. A radioactive substance from his home world that can harm him. There are also possible connections to the super-villain Metallo who attacked a Metropolis fundraiser in early November..."

The radio blared with the voice of a middle-aged man:

"...An anonymous source tipped off the FBI and now Lex Luthor is under investigation for federal election crimes. The charges of the accused are the buying of votes and the mailing of absentee ballots under the names of deceased people by his campaign staff. How these votes were even considered is curious and the FBI believes that Luthor may have bribed the check-in staff. The investigation is ongoing..."

The golden sun cast its light on the barren field. The breeze was cool and dry. Nothing stirred as all the leaves on the trees were dead and the grass was brown and lifeless. But the cloudless sky was a radiant azure which was a stark backdrop for the red barn of the farm.

He should be happy. Technically, they had won. Lex Luthor was probably going to jail, all the Kryptonite had been destroyed, and the Meta-Human Registration Act was effectively dead. It was over.

But he wasn't happy. And how could he be? Everyone had come out of it alive, but not whole. Bruce hadn't contacted him since...since the last time they saw each other and he didn't blame him. He hadn't talked to Kassandra either. Or...Barbara. Often he had flown to the hospital. High above he would watch over her. But he hadn't the strength or courage to make himself see her. To confront that kind of reality in the face of a friend...

He was scared. That she would be angry. That she would be devastated. Of course she was angry. It was selfish, but he didn't want her to be mad at him. He didn't want her to blame him. Because he blamed him. Not only for what he hadn't done, but for what he had stopped himself from doing.

Her heartbeat soothed him as she drew near, but he didn't turn. Once again someone was hurt because of him, he didn't deserve her consolation, so he said nothing. Neither did she. Instead she wrapped her arms around him and the comfort found him anyway. One of the wonderful things about Lois was her ability to reach into people and make them tell their secrets. One of the wonderful things about her was her ability to listen. And she didn't have to say anything. He could confess to her everything and she would still love him.

"I wanted to end it," he said and he felt her move her head. "For a moment. I thought about all the pain he had caused. All the pain he would cause. I thought that it would be the right thing to do. But then I realized who am I to decide who is beyond saving? I'm supposed to inspire humanity to believe that everyone has the capacity for good, but in order for that to happen I need to exemplify that hope. I need to be that hope."

"Clark, you've proven that so many times. That you faced your darkness and turned away, that shows you are that hope," she whispered as she squeezed him.

He turned in her arms to face her. "Zod was right. I did decide who I was that day."

Her eyes were sad. He remembered her face when he told her about his near-death experience with Zod. They had been a mixture of horrified and a deep mourning for him. Now although they were hesitant, they were filled with pride and affection.

"I'm the one who takes the right path, not the easy one."

She smiled and it was like the he was holding the sun. Lifting up to the top of her toes, she gave him a sweet kiss. And he inhaled deeply the scent of her.

"I'm sorry that I investigated Luthor behind your back," she whispered. She looked so ashamed.

Clark gave her an equally guilty look. "I'm sorry for not telling you about his facilities and what Bruce was planning. I was just trying to protect you."

"This is a very gift of the magi kind of moment." She chuckled.

He smiled briefly. "From now on, you know everything."

"Same," she said with tears in her eyes.

A companionable silence followed where they just held each other.

"Clark, I have to tell you something," she said with nervous eyes, but then she looked away for a moment.

Before she had even said it he knew.

"I need to go see her."

After all it was the right path and definitely not an easy one.

"Yes," she said looking a little sheepish, "but there's something else too."

Clark gave her a confused look and she smiled broadly.

To think that she would never run or swim or dance or do anything like that again, was inconceivable. Nor did she want to think about it. Or listen to doctors telling her the probability of her recovery and the experimental treatments. Or to the therapist's promises that she would be able to live a normal life. That one day this would be natural. That she needed to talk about it. That she shouldn't ignore it. How was she ignoring anything? It was the constant topic of her mind. The only means of escape was sleep. In her dreams she could run.

She was running on a treadmill with her ear buds in; she was running in gym class with her friends; she was Batgirl and was running after a criminal down a dark alley. They were fighting and she was kicking and flipping and jumping. He stabbed her in the leg and she smiled at the pain.

The next morning she woke with the residual tingling of her dream. Gasping, for a moment she thought it was real. But looking down at her unmoving legs, she felt a sickening pressure of grief fill her chest pushing against her heart and lungs until she couldn't breathe. A whimper was all the sound she allowed herself to make. She needed a happier distraction. No tv. Too much pain there. Too many reminders of...moving.

She turned her eyes to the window to see dancing lights in the sky. The sun was shining brilliantly and yet it was snowing. What a rare and beautiful thing. It was so mesmerizing she almost forgot and almost didn't notice sitting below the window was the constant figure keeping vigil in her room.

It was Bruce. Disregarding the odd stares from the medical staff, he had perched in her room as often as he could. Offering comfort, deflecting the bullshit of the doctors and therapists. Being her guardian. Laughing at her dark jokes. But most of all he was just there. That was all that mattered.

They would talk about everything else. He would talk about the designs for his new much larger satellite. All of the people he had met to form the Justice League. He would talk about the people he had met at the various Christmas parties he had attended and he apologized for leaving her. It was unnecessary; he was there so often that he was practically a resident. He knew all the nurses' names, but for her sake, he had shed the farce of the player Bruce Wayne for his true self. Suddenly it was like all of those separated years and past hurts were forgotten.

At some point during her staring he had woken. Perhaps he had sensed her eyes on him. Did he ever sleep deeply? Probably not. He was always watchful even with his eyes closed. When they made eye contact, he smiled at her a little sadly and she knew that he knew. Of course he knew. She couldn't hide anything from him. There was no point in hiding anymore.

Her tears came fast and hot and immediately he came to her side, whispering to her comforts and words of affection.

Bruce held her gently while the snow fell softly outside.