For the life of him, he couldn't recall a time where he ever felt so… free.
Growing up, he had always had strict guidelines. Sure, most kids had rules that their parents made them follow, but none like the ones he had. Don't play too rough. Rein in your strength when shaking hands. Don't run too fast on the playground. He had never second-guessed his parents' instructions because, well, they were his parents and he was just a kid. Maybe other kids he knew had to follow the same rules he did. The same ones that said he couldn't talk about his differences.
But as he got older and finally learned the truth about himself, he found that he was even more restricted. While his parents had known he wasn't from this world, they didn't know the destiny that laid out before him. Once that burden had been unloaded, he knew that it was more important than ever to keep who he was a secret from the rest of the world. And when the people he loved found out about his origins, it became more and more apparent to him that he needed to stick to the shadows.
When Pete found out, he was strong for a time, but ultimately left town because his secret was too big of a burden to bear. Chloe's life… well, there was just too much to say about how his secret had affected her. From the loss of Jimmy to her current state of mind, he couldn't help but wish her amnesia had stayed permanent. When Oliver first learned the truth, it had been somewhat of a relief to find an ally, even if he hadn't been up to joining him in his crimefighting at the time, but seeing his downward spiral over the past few months only weighed on his guilt.
Then there was Lana. His secrecy with her had been one of the hardest things he had ever done in his life and if he was being honest, looking back now, he still wished she didn't know the truth. The pain and heartbreak they put each other through because of his secret was tragic. At first, he had been scared of telling her the truth about himself because of her parents and how she viewed meteor freaks. Then it was because he was afraid of how she'd look at him. But as the years went on, he realized one simple truth: he never fully trusted her. Especially after Lex.
If there was one person on the planet that he could have kept from learning his secret, it was Lex. While the world would have been much safer without Lex's knowledge of Clark, it wasn't the only reason for his feelings. Lex had been one of Clark's best friends at one point and he had seen the good inside of him. Maybe if Lex hadn't become so obsessed with finding out about his secret, he would have been a different man. He knew it was just a mere thought and wish, considering who he was raised by and his history, but he still couldn't help but think about where they would be if not for his secret. At the very least, maybe he'd be alive.
But even as he thought of all of the people whose lives had changed because of him, he couldn't help but selfishly feel happy about one person who did know his secret: Lois.
Though he had initially struggled with the fact that she knew about him, he couldn't deny that it made his life a whole lot simpler. For the past few weeks, he hadn't had to worry about coming up with lies or excuses in front of her. He could talk to her about his day. He was able to ask her for advice when he needed it and received reassurance when he doubted himself. And though he'd rather die than admit it out loud, he found that she was actually staying out of trouble... for the most part. Whether that was because she was trying to behave herself or not, it didn't matter. The only thing that he knew was that Lois knowing his secret seemed to make everything in his life better.
But her knowledge of his extraterrestrial origins was just the tip of the iceberg. In reality, the thing that made his life better was her. Ever since he found her on that monorail car, something had changed within him. When he found her sleeping in his bed that night, he realized he would never be able to let her go. When she kissed him for the first time, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he loved her. But as he listened to her breathing slow to an easy cadence in the room above, he felt overwhelmed by the emotions coursing through his body.
Finally—finally—she had let him in. He hadn't planned on kissing her; he really hadn't. But after seeing her turn into a zombie and listening to Oliver basically confess how he was still in love with her, something inside of him had snapped. He was so tired of keeping her at arm's length when he knew that she was all that he wanted. He had controlled his impulses and been patient with her for as long as he could, but it had gotten to the point where he didn't care anymore. He knew he loved her and whether she returned his feelings or not were of no consequence to him at that point. Thankfully, he didn't need to worry on that account.
Her response had been everything he had been hoping for and more. Even though she had been stubborn in admitting her feelings, which he had fully expected, her honesty had only made him love her more. It had also floored him. When she told him that she was scared he loved her for some trauma-induced reason, he swore a feather would have knocked him over. Her total obliviousness to her beauty was laughable, since he knew for a fact that she knew how attractive she was. She wasn't arrogant (at least, not about her appearance), but she wasn't ignorant either. It was the fact that she thought he didn't find her attractive that floored him. Just because she got under his skin didn't mean he was blind. Annoying or not, he was still a man and she was still a very attractive woman, a fact which crossed his mind after their first kiss in the alley and later cemented itself there after their Red-K fueled Valentine's Day.
That aside, he tried to understand her other reasons for her hesitancy. While he still didn't know exactly what had transpired between her and his future self, he was fairly sure it was anything but innocent and if that was the case… well, all he could say was that he understood the predicament she was in. She had shared something significant with him, yet she didn't. She remembered things that he couldn't and never would be able to. He couldn't deny that he was jealous and a little bit disappointed, not that he'd ever admit it, but even so… it didn't matter because at the end of the day, she still chose him, even if it was another version of him. He was just glad that now he was the only one she wanted to be with.
When she admitted there was something more than friendship between them, he felt like his heart was going to burst from his chest, but when she said she wanted to be with him too, he thought he would lift off the ground right then and there. Not only did she know his secret, but she also returned his affections despite his origins. Aside from a newly welcomed change in their physical relationship, she hadn't changed the way she acted around him. She didn't look at or treat him like he was an alien or the Blur. She didn't put him on a pedestal. She didn't expect him to be anyone other than who he was. It's why he knew she was the one.
The object of his thoughts and affections had been asleep for the majority of the day, getting some much needed rest while the rest of Metropolis recovered as well. Emil had sent him an update not too long ago reassuring him that the antidote had worked, though it didn't stop Clark from taking a short patrol to make sure. Now, as he stood on the back porch listening to her steady heartbeat play like a drum in the back of his mind, he found his thoughts drifting away from Lois and towards the other subject that had taken up a permanent residency in his mind: his father.
Aside from the past 24 hours, Clark had spent all of his spare time searching for his father. While Zod and the Kandorians were the priority, he couldn't deny that he had diverted a significant amount of his time to looking for Jor-El specifically. He dressed it up in his mind and justified it by reasoning that by finding Jor-El, it would lead him to Zod, but he knew it was just an excuse. He wanted to meet him, no matter what that led to down the line.
He hadn't been back to the Fortress since he'd told Jor-El that his clone was walking around on Earth and he wasn't sure when he planned on going back. He knew he'd need to eventually, but right now, he just didn't have it in him to argue or even listen. There was no way he would kill him. He couldn't. The thought of killing anyone made his stomach turn, but that… that was something else entirely. It angered him that Jor-El even suggested it in the first place, but that was a road he couldn't go down because it was a dead end. He couldn't argue with the logic, so there was no use. That's why it was easier to avoid him entirely.
His rocky relationships with both Chloe and Oliver weighed on the back of his mind too. He missed his friends. He missed his partners. He was still angry with the choices they had both made and the lies that they had told him, but he wasn't blind to the role he played in the demise of both relationships. With Chloe, he had left her behind when she was most vulnerable and with Oliver, he had somewhat done the same thing. After Jimmy's death and Lois's disappearance, he simply didn't care about mending those friendships because he didn't care about anyone. But now that she was back and he was embracing his humanity again, he knew he had some work to do. And not just with them.
He'd called his mother shortly after Lois had reappeared to let her know that she was okay. When he heard her voice crack over the phone as she spoke, it took everything in him not to speed to Washington that instant. He knew he'd hurt her by cutting her off too, but he also knew she understood why he did it a little more than Chloe or Oliver. Plus, she was his mother. Forgiveness wasn't even a question. But that didn't meant that she didn't deserve an apology too.
The sun was starting to slowly sink towards the horizon and he closed his eyes as he enjoyed the easy late afternoon rays on his skin. After spending so much time in the darkness, he forgot how much he needed the sun. It always warmed him externally, but it did something deep within him too. It made him feel lighter, stronger, and filled him with a confidence that he always forgot he possessed. It was a healing, nurturing force that he couldn't live without. In the back of his mind, he recognized the sounds of light footsteps on the staircase and was immediately struck by how similar the force of the sun felt to being around Lois. He turned, peering through the kitchen window as she descended the stairs and made her way into the kitchen. Her hair was a knotted mess, sticking up awkwardly on the right side of her head and puffing out behind her, while she drowned in one of his flannels that fell down past her thighs. He swallowed, trying to avert his eyes from her bare skin, then smiled as she shuffled towards the coffee pot.
He stood there, silently watching her move around the kitchen until she finally procured a mug for herself. As she raised it to her lips, she finally looked in his direction. Her face lit up briefly with shock, but a smile immediately graced her features when she realized he was standing there and he couldn't help but return the gesture. Something in his stomach fluttered as she disappeared from view, quickly reappearing from behind the back door. As she stood there in his crumpled shirt, leaning against the door frame with a cup of coffee in her hands and a lazy smile on her face, he felt his heart swell against his ribcage. God, she was perfect.
"How are you feeling?" he asked and she shrugged.
"Better than I did when I was trying to rip your head off," she said. He smiled, shaking his head slightly in disbelief.
"I figured that was your ideal state of mind," he said, taking immense pride in the look of surprise on her face.
"Did you run out and get a sense of humor while I was sleeping? I'm proud," she said as she walked towards him, taking a sip of coffee to no doubt cover the smile on her face. She stopped when she was right in front of him, eyes twinkling impishly over the rim of her mug. When she moved it away from her face, he had to physically restrain himself from leaning forward and taking its place.
"No, but I did do a quick patrol and talked to Emil. Everyone seems to be okay," he said, his eyes trailing to the large white bandage that adorned her calf. He wondered if she had replaced it yet. For as many injuries as she got, she never was very good at remembering to take care of them.
"I changed it after I woke up. Looks like the swelling went down," she said, beating him to the answer before he could even ask the question. "So you can stop worrying now."
"You should really stay off of it for the rest of the day," he said with a knowing look, to which she only rolled her eyes.
"I just slept for six hours, I don't need any more rest," she said. He knew she wasn't one to sit around and pity herself, but he also thought, or hoped, that this time she wouldn't mind spending the rest of the day relaxing… with him. He'd let her sleep all day because he knew she needed it, but he couldn't deny that he'd had to stop himself from going upstairs just to watch her. After she had finally opened up to him earlier, all he wanted was to spend as much time as possible with her from here on out.
"But, Lois—"
"What I do need is something to put in my stomach before I turn into zombie for a second time today," she said, cutting off his plea. "Think you can help a girl out?"
That was Lois. While she wouldn't outright admit defeat and agree to his request, she would turn the tables so that the plans for the evening were in her control, even though it meant she was doing exactly what he wanted. It was a twisted game and one she had played many times over the years, but it was also one of the things he loved about her. She was stubborn as hell and liked to be in control, but she also wasn't defiant out of spite. She still cared.
"What do you want?" he asked, aware of the implication of the question and the effect it had on her. He watched as her pupils dilated at the change of his pitch and when her bottom lip retreated beneath her teeth, he nearly growled.
"Hmm… are you offering in-house or delivery services?" she asked, her soft words sending pleasurable waves up his spine. She was standing closer to him now, coffee cup abandoned to the porch railing. Like a magnet, he felt himself drawing closer to her by some invisible force.
"Whatever you want," he said, his words coming out in a low murmur. Her eyes moved from his own, down to his lips, then rested on the center of his chest as she contemplated her response. He swallowed when her hands touched his shoulders, slowly wrapping themselves around his neck. He didn't even realize he'd touched her until he felt the shiver ripple down her lower back.
"That's a dangerous offer, Smallville. Especially because I know exactly what I want," she said. Her hazel eyes were hooded as they blinked up, silently tempting him as her fingers played idly with the hair at the nape of his neck. He sucked in a breath, which did not go unnoticed as he played a wry smile spread across her face.
"And what's that?" he managed to ask. Slowly, Lois inched towards him, never once breaking eye contact until her lips were a hair from his. His eyes fluttered shut of their own accord as he waited in anticipation. He could feel her breath on his lips, ghosting by them as she lifted her mouth past his cheek, towards his ear.
"Pizza."
As soon as the word left her mouth, the spell was broken. When his eyes popped open, he found her standing in the doorway with her coffee cup in hand and a mischievous smile on her face. The wave of desire that had just crashed over him was nothing to the affection he felt for her right now. She was teasing him, which was nothing new, but she was also openly flirting with him. It was something he had been dreaming about for weeks and now that it was actually happening, it felt a little bit surreal. Shaking his head as she disappeared inside with a laugh, he followed her with the question of local or authentic takeout on his lips.
The week past by quickly and rather uneventfully. Lois had returned to her apartment the day after the zombie incident, much to Clark's disappointment. She had told him that if she didn't go back to her own place, she'd never leave his and that wasn't something she was ready for yet. He agreed, of course, but he couldn't deny that a large part of him didn't want her to go. She had lived there before they had any romantic involvement and things had been just fine, so it was reasonable enough to assume they could share a living space without complicating things, right?
Even he knew that was a lie. If Lois stayed at the farm, things between them would get very serious, very quickly and while he wasn't worried about that, he knew that she might be. She had always been wildly protective of her heart and he knew that he had to go at her pace. There was also the question of what happened between her and his future self that he had been wrestling with. Ever since he had kissed her in the kitchen, Lois had been extremely careful not to let things progress any faster than what she was comfortable with. Unfortunately for him, that wasn't very much. They had spent most of their time with each other at work this week, but on the three occasions they'd hung out after work, things had never progressed further than a few heated kisses on the sofa. Hell, he hadn't even made out with her since that morning. While he understood her reasons for keeping him at a distance, he couldn't deny that it was frustrating, to say the least.
But things were good for the first time in a while, so he couldn't complain. He had been more in touch with Chloe this week and while they weren't exactly back to being friends, they had at least found some common ground between the two of them. It no longer felt like he was stepping on eggshells when he was around her, but there were still some awkward silences that needed to be filled. He didn't know why it was so hard to apologize to her, but for some reason, he just couldn't get the words to come out of his mouth. Maybe he'd talk to Lois about it. She was her cousin, but she was also always fair when it came to giving advice.
Oliver was a different story. After they'd released the cure and left Watchtower, Oliver had virtually disappeared. Chloe and Emil couldn't get in touch with him and the rest of the League was still MIA, which left all of Metropolis under Clark's watchful eye. He had patrolled every night this week and thankfully, there were no major incidents. Still, he could use some back up. That's also why it was no surprise that after a relatively quiet week, he got an alert about a hostage situation down in the industrial district early this morning.
Clark stood on the adjacent building, surveying the scene below him. The police department and the SWAT team had already established a perimeter, but it looked as if no one had breached the warehouse yet. From what he could ascertain, there were somewhere from 15-20 hostages trapped in the building and one bomber, who refused to communicate any demands or reasons to the police. Using his x-ray vision, he was able to determine that all of the hostages were grouped together, which made his job a little easier.
In just four sweeps, he was able to clear the building of the hostages, depositing them behind the police perimeter. As he appeared for a final time, he burned his crest into the floor and blurred to a dark corner of the room, watching and waiting for the bomber to make his move. He had a belt of TNT wrapped around his stomach and sat there, still as a statue, most likely trying to determine where his hostages had just gone.
"Don't bother pulling the trigger," he said from his hiding spot. He blurred in front of the man, not giving him any time to react, and ripped the TNT off of his chest before throwing him into the adjacent shelves. As he held the explosive belt in front of him, he heard a familiar ticking that alerted him to the fact that some trigger must have been activated. Without a second thought, he wrapped his body around the bomb, closed his eyes, and hoped for the best. A second later, it exploded.
The bomb exploded against his chest with a force that threw him off his feet. His head hit the ground with a solid smack and when he sat up, he nearly fell forwards. It felt as if his head was filled with helium. He closed his eyes to try and focus, but everything just went blank. He couldn't hear, he couldn't feel… he was weightless. But as suddenly as everything disappeared, suddenly, everything was back. It was more brutal than when he first developed his super hearing. He could hear everything.
The fire, the falling debris, the sirens, the radios, the conversations, the cries, the cars… everything was so loud in his head that it was almost painful. Then there was this familiar ringing in his head that he couldn't put his finger on. He pressed his hands to his ears and temples to try and alleviate some of the pain. Slowly, the ringing began to dim until all that was left was a jumbled cacophony of distorted voices. A few voices that sounded like police officers peeked through the madness, so he managed to find his way out a back door before he was discovered. Quickly, he found an abandoned phone booth and spun into his office clothing, pressing a hand to his temple as he exited.
What was happening? Was the bomb laced with Kryptonite? He didn't feel the pain or weakness that usually accompanied Kryptonite, but he was extremely disoriented. Maybe it was a new kind. Either way, he needed to figure out a way to make the sounds stop.
"Clark! What happened?"
The sound of Lois's voice was a pleasant reprieve from the chorus of other voices. Looking up, he saw her appear from the crowd, making a beeline towards him.
"Someone tried to blow up the factory with hostages trapped inside. I was able to absorb most of the blast," he said, speaking lowly as he informed her of his heroic activities. While he certainly wasn't trying to brag, he couldn't deny that his chest always swelled with pride every time he saw that look on her face. It was a mixture of admiration and pride, concern and relief, but above all, love. She hadn't said it outright and neither had he, but he knew if she felt even a fraction of how he felt for her, then she must love him too.
"Are you okay?" she asked, her eyes scanning him quickly as she placed a hand to his chest. The warm feeling that spread across his body at her touch always took him by surprise and it never got old. But the pleasant buzzing sensation she evoked soon blended with all of the other noises that were overwhelming his senses.
"Yeah, I… yeah, I'm fine," he said. Apparently, he wasn't very convincing because her expression didn't change. Instead, her frown only deepened.
"Are you sure?" she asked, holding his gaze with a heavy tension. Nodding, he did his best to show her that he was okay. Because he was. The bomb must have just rocked his head a little bit.
"Yeah, I think I'm just recovering from the blast. I'm okay, I promise," he said, giving her a reassuring smile. She studied him for half a second more to ensure that he wasn't hiding anything from her and when she was satisfied, she finally relaxed, looping her arm through his as she spun on her heel and started walking alongside him.
"Okay… well, in that case, do you mind taking me back to the Planet and giving me a play by play of what happened? You're a lot quicker than waiting on a taxi," she said, batting her eyelashes with dramatic effect. It made him laugh when she did things like that. In the past, she wouldn't have bothered with asking him for favors because she'd simply tell him what she wanted and expected his compliance. Recently, she had started finally asking him for favors, but usually in an over-the-top fashion that made it impossible to say no… not that he'd ever dream of denying any of her requests.
"Of course. Ready?" he asked, taking a quick look around to make sure that there wouldn't be any witnesses.
"Yep," she said. As he lifted her into his arms, he heard the sharp intake of breath that always accompanied her and tried to hide his smile. When her fingers grazed over his bicep appreciatively, he failed at hiding his smile, but he also didn't really care. So what if she saw how happy she made him? But as he looked at her, he found he didn't need to worry about his reaction because she was solely focused on his arm.
"Hello, sailor."
His cheeks flushed at the compliment, but he wasn't exactly surprised. She had been much more open with her affection towards him over the past week, so her comment wasn't entirely surprising, but he had to admit that he was a little taken aback at how serious she seemed. She was still focused entirely on his arm and hadn't looked up at him liked he expected her to, which made him think that her comment was a genuine slip of the tongue rather than a flirtatious comment.
"What'd you just say?" he asked. He had been seeking clarification, but all he received was a quizzical look from the woman in his arms.
"Nothing. Are you sure you're okay?" she asked. For a moment, he thought he was losing his mind. But then, as he stared at her perfect, unmoving lips, he heard her speak clear as day.
"…hot stuff."
Something was wrong. Extremely wrong.
He wanted it to be his imagination, he truly did. But it took being back at the Planet for less than five minutes for him to realize that he had developed a new power. It was one that he had wondered about and had often wished he possessed, but now that he had it, all he wanted was for it to go away. It was strange to be able to hear what other people were thinking, to say the least. He could have gone without Ron Troupe's incessant mental sing-a-long to the newest Lady Gaga hit. He didn't need to know that Steve Lombard wondered what every woman who passed him by looked like naked. He certainly would have been better off not knowing that Jeff Hage day dreamt about himself as the lead in a Jane Austen novel, but none of it compared to being inside Lois Lane's head.
It wasn't as if Lois normally kept her thoughts to herself, so to have a front-row view to her rawest, unfiltered thoughts was like opening a whole new world. He knew he should tell her what was going on, but he didn't even know what was happening yet. As soon as the opportunity presented itself, he was going to the Fortress. Even though he had been avoiding Jor-El, he knew that he would have answers for him, at least. In the meantime, he would just have to try and avoid his partner, which was proving to be more difficult than he thought.
"God, I am dragging ass today. I should go for coffee. No, actually, I should really get a B12 shot. I have to keep up with Clark. You know, you got to remember what the general always said: on certain days, you wear certain underwear... And why today, of all days, why you decided to go with a th—"
The elevator doors slid open to reveal the narrator of the most recent barrage of thoughts to filter through his head.
"Hey, Smallville," she said. She smiled brightly at him as she entered, pressing the illuminated button for the bullpen. A smile crept to his lips as he wondered what sort of days warranted wearing a thong, but as his mind broached that subject, he also found himself wondering what sort of underwear she would have chosen for today. And what she might look like in said underwear. Or more importantly, what she might look like out of them. Clearing his throat, he forced his mind out of the gutter and returned her greeting.
"You're in a good mood today," he said, only slightly proud of himself for keeping his voice even.
"Why wouldn't I be? You saved all those hostages and I've got a lead," she said, exiting the doors as soon as they opened, not waiting to see if he was following her or not because she knew that he was. "Word on the street is the bomber isn't the one who flipped the switch. It was on a timer."
The bomb was on a timer? That didn't make any sense. He was there. He saw the bomber sitting there. He got the TNT off of his chest and there had been no timer to be seen. Frowning, Clark followed her to her desk, but didn't sit, opting to stand beside her instead.
"Why would the bomb be on a timer?" he asked with a frown. He didn't doubt her investigative skills or her sources and he certainly didn't want her to feel like he was doubting her, but if the bomb was on a timer, it meant he had missed something. It meant that if anything else happened, it would be on him.
"I don't know. I'm not a mind reader. Why would you take hostages and not make any demands?" she asked before logging on to her computer. As she pulled up her notes and research, Clark moved behind her, so that he could read over her shoulder. As he leaned in, he caught the slight tilt of her head as she tried her best not to show she was trying to look at him. "Everything I have is everything you gave me, Clark."
"Unless something else happened that you're not telling me about…"
"I know, I just… I never saw a timer," he said, keeping his voice low as he looked around for potential eavesdroppers. "As soon as I ripped the bomb off of him, it detonated."
"And you didn't see what he looked like? He didn't say anything to you? Nothing?" she asked. He'd already told her everything that had happened, but Lois was nothing if not thorough. He shook his head.
"No… he was wearing a mask," he said. Thinking back on it now, he thought that he'd heard some sort of ticking or timer before the bomb went off, but with all of the other noises parading around in his head, he'd forgotten. Or he'd imagined it. Either way, it had him questioning himself now.
"Maybe… maybe he wasn't the bomber," she said slowly, staring off into space as she put the pieces together in her head.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"When I overheard the cops say that the bomb was on a timer, I also heard they had pulled someone from the building, but he wasn't a suspect. What if… what if he was a hostage too?" she asked.
It made a lot of sense. For one thing, it had been rather easy to simply grab the bomb and push the supposed bomber out of the way. He hadn't said a word and he hadn't even flinched when Clark approached him. It would also line up with what she had heard from her police contacts. So if the man with the bomb strapped to him was just another hostage…
"If that's the case, who put them there? And why? Maybe some of the hostages saw something. They're probably still at the hospital…"
She was rambling, both inwardly and outwardly. The combination of her thoughts, his own, and the world around him was starting to overwhelm him again, so he pressed a hand to his temple to relieve the pressure.
"Lois," he said in an attempt to break her tirade, which thankfully seemed to work. Turning towards him, she blinked with wide eyes, then gestured back to the non-moving computer screen.
"Computer's frozen again," she said. When the screen still didn't move, she threw her head over her shoulder to look across the room at something. "Doesn't help that stupid intern Jeff took the last stupid maple doughnut from the stupid doughnut box."
Following her gaze, he saw the culprit himself standing across the room chewing through a large bite of what he could only assume was maple doughnut. Making a decision he didn't think twice about, Clark sped over and deftly removed the doughnut from the intern's hands before he could even process what had happened. As soon as he returned to his spot next to her, he extended the pastry towards her, the sugary aroma immediately pulling her gaze from the computer screen.
"Here you go. My eyes are bigger than my stomach this morning," he said. He watched as her eyes sparked with delight, moving from the doughnut, to him, then back again.
"No. Okay, I love you," she said, quickly jumping up and shoving the sugary treat in her mouth without hesitation or regard to the words that had just left her mouth. Honestly, Clark hadn't thought twice about it as she hopped up on the desk to perch beside him. But that was before he watched her eyes turn into saucers and Lane FM started blaring once more.
"Oh God, I did not just say those three little words to you over a doughnut. Don't react. Everything is fine, just brush it off. That is not something you need to know just yet."
For the first time since the explosion, all of the background noise faded to nothing but a subtle buzzing in the back of his head. The world around him blurred and the sole focal point of his universe became the woman sitting in front of him. Her full concentration was on the doughnut in her hand, chewing the way-too-large bite she had just taken thoroughly. Flakes of sugar danced around her lips as she chewed, closing her eyes in pleasure as a small smile came across her lips at the rush of dopamine that must have just hit her. Standing there, watching her chew through a doughnut with all the elation of a small child, he knew he had never been more in love.
She said that she loved him. She hadn't meant it that way and he certainly wouldn't have thought twice about it without this newfound power, but her thoughts on her slip of tongue had changed everything. She said he didn't need to know "just yet." Yet. That tiny word held all the weight in the world. It meant that she did love him, she just wasn't ready to tell him. And that was okay. He certainly hadn't divulged that truth to her yet, but he also knew the only reason he hadn't was because he wanted her to be ready. They had finally found their way to each other and the last thing he wanted to do was scare her off by telling her he loved her too soon. She likely knew it, she wasn't stupid, but he also knew that she had a tightly wound bolt reflex and he'd be damned if she ever left him again.
He noticed then that he hadn't responded, but thankfully, she was still focused on the remnants of her stolen treat. As she finished the last bite and started licking her fingers clean, he had to hold in a groan.
"I just thought a bump in blood sugar might help you from punching someone," he said, his voice betraying him. He knew immediately that she had sensed something was different with the way she looked at him. Her body tensed, her heart started to beat fasted, and she got that looked in her eyes that had become very common every time they were alone together. Instantly, he became hypnotized by the way her throat bobbed as she swallowed, but her inner dialogue broke him from his reverie once again.
"You're so hot when you talk like that. And why do you always smell so good? The things you do to me should be illegal. Not to mention the things I know you can do—stop. No. Absolutely not. Do not think of him naked. Do not think of his chest or his abs or his perfectly sculpted—"
"Lois!" he choked out. The temperature in the room seemed to have jumped ten degrees, his head felt like a spinning top getting ready to ricochet around the room, and he was trying extremely hard to hide his very obvious arousal. He had always suspected that Lois might have slept with his future self, but listening to her unfiltered thoughts about it was not something he had prepared himself for.
"Wh-what?" she asked, blinking up at him innocently. There was a tinge of pink in her cheeks, but aside from that, he would have been none the wiser had he not developed this mind-reading ability. Logically, he knew there was no way she would ever assume that he could read her thoughts without him telling her, but she was also Lois Lane and he didn't want to leave any room for speculation. Suddenly, he remembered the folder in his hands and said a silent prayer.
"I… uh, did you, um, did you see this yet?" he asked, promptly shoving the blue folder into her hands unceremoniously. She threw him a quizzical look and opened the folder, but she held his gaze.
"Smallville, are you sure you're okay?" she asked. Her tone was worried now, which only made him feel guilty. Her next thought didn't help either. "What aren't you telling me?"
"I promise I'm okay, I'm just trying to figure out how I didn't notice the bomber was actually a hostage," he said. It wasn't the truth, but it wasn't exactly a lie either. He had been thinking about that… before Lois alerted him to the fact that she thought he had a very attractive physique. "Look, it seems like the textile factory he chose was a subsidiary of Queen Industries. You think it would be enough to get Oliver's attention."
So someone kidnapped a group of people, strapped a bomb to one of them, and waited for the building to explode without making any demands. Why? For what purpose? At this point, the only reasons he could think of were that there was a commonality between all the hostages or that the location had significance to the culprit. Knowing that Oliver had a laundry list of enemies, Clark thought that Queen Industries was the place to start.
"That only matters if Ollie's sober enough to give a crap," Lois said.
"Yeah, you might be right," Clark replied. Ever since Doomsday, every time Clark had seen Oliver, which was rare, he had been three sheets to the wind. Hell, he'd probably been drunk the night he let Lois fall asleep and get infected. Part of him knew that he couldn't exactly blame him. While he didn't fall into a drunk stupor, he didn't cut off his humanity from his family and friends, which was honestly the more drastic of the two options. The only difference was that Clark had returned to the real world. Oliver hadn't.
"What'd you say?"
Clark's eyes snapped to hers and as soon as he saw the confusion in them, he knew he'd made a mistake. He'd answered one of her thoughts out loud. Shit. There was nothing he could do except play dumb and hope for the best, so that's what he did.
"What?" he said, hoping that he sounding somewhat convincing.
"What?" she replied. She was staring at him with a curious expression on her face. She wasn't angry or worried. She was confused. She was intrigued. She was… on to something. And that worried him a whole lot. So, although he knew he'd feel guilty about it later, he faked a look off into the distance for a brief moment, then turned back to look at her.
"I, uh, I have to go. Blur thing. I'll see you later," he said quickly, then hurried off with her eyes burning holes in his back. If she had any thoughts on her mind as he practically ran away, he didn't hear them. He focused on anything and everything around him until he was outside and around the corner in a place where he could safely speed away without any prying eyes on him. As soon as he knew it was safe, he took off towards the one place he knew would have answers for him.
He got there quickly, not wanting to waste any more time than he had to. Walking into the center of the icy cavern, he directed his voice toward the upper part of the northern wall. He didn't know why he always did that, but it felt right. It also didn't really matter. Then only thing that did matter was what his pseudo-father had to say.
"Jor-El. Reading people's thoughts... you said my trials had begun. Is this one of them?" he asked. It was the only logical conclusion he had come to. He didn't think he'd developed the power permanently. It was difficult enough training his ears to filter through all of the sounds around the world. If he had to listen to that and the thoughts of over 8 billion people, he would explode. No, Clark had been moving quickly along with his training before Lois reappeared. His noticeable absence from the Fortress over the past few weeks was more than enough reason for Jor-El to pull something like this on him.
"I've planted within you the seeds for this trial, designed to self-manifest when most needed. An event must have happened to trigger it, some kind of error or mistake in judgment," he replied. He wasn't sure how, but even the monotone robotic voice could not hide the obvious point he was trying to make.
"I don't understand. I saved everyone in that factory," he said. He wasn't going to give into his game. If he wanted to tell him again how murdering a group of people in cold blood was in the best interest for the world, he could go ahead. But he was going to make him say it outright. He wasn't going to let him hide behind tests or trials or hidden messages.
"Assumptions are flaws inherent in the human instincts you have adopted, but they are beneath you. What you have yet to nurture is your Kryptonian intuition," he said. For not having a face or physical body to hit, Clark thought a lot about punching Jor-El. Right now, it was the only thought that filled his mind. Of course he was going to blame his humanity. He wasn't wrong: his humanity is what made him unable to kill. He wouldn't deny that. But his humanity is also what gave him Lois and he would be damned if he apologized for that.
"You shouldn't underestimate humans," he said coolly. He knew if he lost his temper, he'd only be proving to Jor-El that he was exactly the weak-minded son he thought he was and he wouldn't give him that satisfaction.
"Neither should you. Being able to discern why humans truly behave as they do will help you to better protect them. This ability is only temporary. You must learn to focus, Clark. Perception can be the difference between life and death," he said. That response stumped him. Maybe this really was a trial. Maybe it really had been planned all along. As evasive and tricky as he could be, Jor-El had never outright lied to Clark and he didn't think that he was going to start now. The only way to be sure though was to ask him. Which is exactly what he did.
"And this doesn't have anything to do with the fact that I've been avoiding you? Or that I don't want to murder my own people?" he asked.
"What you choose to do is up to you, Kal-El, but you must be ready to face the consequences, whatever they may be. The fate of Zod, myself, and the rest of the Kandorians has already been written. Time is a fickle thing and it is not something to be messed with," he said. The light of the Fortress that always accompanied Jor-El's presence dimmed and Clark felt as though he was effectively walked out on by an entity that didn't even possess legs. He should have cared more than he did, but the truth was, part of him was relieved. He had no idea what he would have said otherwise.
If he were to take Jor-El at his word, it meant that he had made some error in judgement about something recently that had given him the temporary ability to read other peoples' thoughts. It had nothing to do with retribution for his defiance or some game to make him see things in Jor-El's metaphorical eyes. Simply put, this was just another growing pain he had to deal with. How long it was supposed to last, he didn't know. All he knew was that if he was going to lose it, he needed to use it to his advantage while he still could. And he knew exactly where to start.