Fic: Glimpse | DCU/SR/BB | Clark/Lois, Bruce, Diana, others | PG-13 | 1/1
Title: Glimpse
Fandom: DCU/Superman Returns/Batman Begins
Characters/Pairing: Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Bruce Wayne, Diana Prince, Jason White, Richard White, Oliver Queen (Clark Kent/Lois Lane)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 5,431
Prompt: For the Planet September Fic Grab: Extricate
Summary: When Clark wakes up in a world where everything seems perfect, he can't help feeling like something's not right.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own it all. I own nothing. Darnit.
Author's Notes: If you're confused initially, don't worry, it'll all make sense eventually, and there are more author's notes at the end of the fic to settle that feeling of deja vu. ^_~
Glimpse
Rain again. Clark couldn't really say he was surprised, with the weather being so crazy lately. Just another sign of global warming, which he might have known was coming if he hadn't been off on his crusade for five years.
But really, global warming was pretty low on the totem pole right now. Having come home to Luthor's insanity and subsequent disappearance, finding the world in shambles, his love lost, and a son he didn't even know about being raised by another man, Clark wasn't sure he'd ever get a handle on his priorities.
Stepping out into the drizzly afternoon, he left his slow, boring day of writing obits and page-4 articles at the Planet behind, the job washed away by the cold rain falling over Metropolis. A long, wet walk to his tiny apartment on the outskirts of Metropolis Heights, a tedious hike up sixteen flights of stairs.
He could've double-timed it, but what was the use? He'd just be out the door again in ten minutes, anyway. With his focus turned inward, he was cheating, really, but it would give him just enough time to catch a proper shower and heat up some leftovers for an early dinner before he'd have to turn his focus out to the world again, just like every evening, and find some disaster that would require his attention.
Of course, he could just ignore it all, watch some bad television, turn in early.
Dream of things he shouldn't, of people he'd be better off not dreaming about.
But again, what was the use?
Finally on his floor, Clark trudged the twenty-two feet to his door, put his key in the lock, turned the knob. Same old routine, already lock-step after the year and some months since he got back. He could do it all in his sleep if he had to.
He hung up his coat, dropped his keys and wallet in the bowl on the end table, grabbed his phone to check his voicemail.
“Hi, this message is for Mister Clark Kent. This is Kelly, from AT&T, and I'm calling today to invite you to sign up for―”
Clark pressed '3' to delete the message with a beep.
“Hey, Clark, it's Jimmy. The Chief wanted me to remind you to get that story on the city's New Year's preparations in by noon tomorrow, or else he's gonna have our heads on platters. Oh! And don't forget you're invited to the―”
Beep.
Story in by noon, invited to a party he didn't want to go to, yeah, Clark got it all already. Sure, Jimmy meant well, but at this point, he just didn't want to hear it anymore.
“Mister Kent? Doctor Hamilton, S.T.A.R. Labs. That meteorite that fell in Alaska last month? Well, we've got it here at S.T.A.R. You might be interested in this. In fact, I'm certain you'll be interested. Please do call back. Either I or Doctor Faulkner will be on hand through the night working out... well, whatever this is.”
Scrubbing a hand over his face, Clark pressed '3' and sat the handset back in its cradle, then headed for that shower he'd promised himself. Not that he really cared at this point, but naturally he couldn't resist a little curiosity. Something from the sky that the best scientists around couldn't figure out? If nothing else, it might at least be something to break the monotony.
~*~*~*~
It was the rich aroma of coffee that woke Clark from a deep, dreamless sleep. A smile on his lips as he blinked the sleep away, the warmth of the morning sun falling across his face, he breathed deep. Usually it was him that was up first, waking Lois with fresh coffee, but today must be his lucky day. Was it Sunday already? No, definitely still Saturday, if his leftover exhaustion from a busy Friday evening was any indication.
Stretching, he sat up and slipped out of bed, then hit the bathroom and padded downstairs in his pajama pants and gray Met U t-shirt to find Lois pouring the coffee while Jason was in the middle of flipping a row of pancakes on their long griddle over the stove. At the kitchen island, Lara and Kon were busy cutting up fruit to go on the pancakes, while BJ was watching TV out in the living room.
“What's all this?” he asked, taken aback by the sight in front of him as he stepped close to Lois and wrapped his arms around her, tucking a kiss into the crook of her neck.
“What do you think it is?” she smiled back, turning to gaze up at him. “It's breakfast.”
“I see that. But isn't this usually the other way around?”
Lois pulled away just enough to turn in the circle of his arms and wrap her own arms around his waist. “Well, yes, but I thought I'd do something nice for you for a change. Is that so unthinkable?” she finished, teasing.
“I think it's wonderful,” he replied, dipping his head to give her a proper kiss.
“Hey, hey! None of that in the kitchen!” Jason interrupted from his spot in front of the stove, spatula in mid-flip. “Some of us want to keep our appetites, you know.”
Chuckling at his oldest son's ribbing, Clark released his wife and grabbed up a mug of coffee before shooting back, “You're lucky all we did was kiss. You didn't just spring fully-formed from your mother's womb, you know. And at sixteen, you should really know.”
“And now I have lost my appetite. Thanks, Dad.”
“You're very welcome,” Clark smirked. Sipping his coffee, he enjoyed the mayhem that had erupted around them, Lara and Kon groaning in protest of their oh-so-delicate sensibilities being so offended. When a dishtowel hit him square in the face from across the kitchen, he couldn't help sharing a smirk with Lois. Sometimes it was just too fun to mess with the kids like this.
But all too soon, their easy morning was interrupted by the ring of Clark's cell, still sitting on the counter where he'd left it after coming in late from a night of not-so-fun rescues. Snatching it up and flipping it open after a quick glance at the call ID, he answered the call with, “Lane-Kent residence, home of PDAs and traumatized teenagers.”
“Cute, Clark,” came Bruce's poorly-disguised amusement from the other end of the call. “I know it's your weekend off, but some serious League business just came up, and we need everyone at the Watchtower.”
Clark struggled to hold in his disappointed sigh at that. “You're kidding, right?”
“I wish I was. How soon can you be there?”
“I suppose two hours is asking too much.”
Bruce chuckled. “No, that's fine. Finish your breakfast, and we'll see you about ten.”
He couldn't help his smile at his old friend's concession. “Thanks, Bruce. I'll see you there.”
Ending the call, Clark stashed his cell in a pajama pocket and turned to Lois's cautiously optimistic expression, one of her eyebrows raised. “Let me guess. You're needed,” she said.
“I've got two hours, plenty of time. And hopefully this'll be short.”
Lois wrapped her arms around his waist again. “Well, good. Because otherwise, I'd have had to give Bruce an earful.” Finishing with a decisive nod, she reached up on her tiptoes and gave him a firm kiss.
“All right, breakfast is ready,” Jason announced from the other side of the kitchen, stacked plate of pancakes in hand as he headed for the table, Lara following with the fruit and Kon with the syrup and other fixings. “Not that any of us actually want to eat now.”
Clark chuckled against Lois's lips. “I think we should traumatize them more often.”
“You're on, Kent.”
~*~*~*~
If his weekend luck held true, Clark was certain the week would be a good one. Stepping out of the elevator on his way into work on Monday morning, he couldn't help whistling to himself. God, it was a beautiful morning, even with two quick rescues before breakfast and one on his way into the Planet. Sun shining warm, a light breeze, nothing too seriously wrong with the world at the moment. Of course, that could change at any time, but for now, it was good.
“Morning, Clark,” a voice greeted him as he cut through the lobby toward the bullpen.
Turning, he found Richard striding out of the other elevator, smiling, his briefcase in hand. “Oh, hey, Richard,” he called back, waiting for the other man to catch up with him. “Have a good weekend?”
“I was about to ask the you the same thing.”
Clark couldn't help laughing at their sense of timing. “Mine was great,” he said, his gaze sweeping through the lobby as he turned back to step through the double glass doors. “Lois and the kids made breakfast on Saturday, and―”
But his train of thought derailed for a moment as he noticed the framed enlarged copy of a past Planet front page hanging on the far wall of the lobby.
“Lex Luthor Found Dead, Kryptonite Plot Foiled By Alien Ship,” was the headline.
“Hey, Earth to Clark.”
The snap of Richard's fingers brought Clark out of his brief trance, and he shook his head as they stepped into the bullpen and headed down the center aisle toward their respective offices. “Sorry, got lost in thought there for a minute. Um, has that front page always been out there?”
“For the last eleven years, yeah,” Richard answered, his brow just slightly furrowed. “Why?”
Clark shook his head again. “Um, no reason. Guess I'm just having a weird morning,” he brushed it off.
The other man nodded, seeming to accept his explanation, before breaking off for his own office and leaving Clark in the middle of the bullpen.
Heading in the opposite direction, Clark suddenly couldn't help the feeling that there was something very wrong with that headline. He couldn't seem to remember a single thing that it had implied. Not any alien ship, no kryptonite plot, and most importantly, not the death of one Lex Luthor.
~*~*~*~
“What do you mean, you haven't seen him?” Lois spat into her cell phone. “Clark disappears for three days, leaving no word with me, or Jimmy, or Perry, all we can figure is that he's quit again, and you, his best friend, haven't seen him? You've gotta be kidding me.”
From the other end of the line, Bruce barked back, “I'm serious. I haven't seen him since Thursday. It's not like he checks in with me every minute of every day, just because we have lunch every once in a while.”
“Dammit, if you don't know where he is, then who the hell would?”
A long silence, then, “I'll call Martha Kent. Maybe she knows something.”
Of course. Lois had completely forgotten about Clark's elderly mother. “Yeah,” she responded after a moment with a long sigh, rubbing her temple with her fingers. “Yeah, all right. Just, let me know if you find him. Perry's going ape shit over the articles Clark was supposed to hand in three days ago, and Jimmy's worrying the hell out of me. It's not like Clark to just disappear. Well, not like this, anyway.”
“I'll let you know as soon as I find him, Lois, I promise.”
~*~*~*~
After hanging up with Mrs. Kent ten minutes later, no closer to finding Clark and assuaging Lois's fears, Bruce immediately dialed Diana's number, a sick feeling settling into his gut. One ring, two, then the call was answered with an easy, “Morning, Bruce. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Clark is missing. Three days, at least.”
He could almost hear her sitting up straighter and her senses sharpening in the span of a heartbeat. “What?”
“I got a call from Lois Lane. You remember, Clark's old partner at the Planet?”
“Yes, I remember her.”
“He's apparently been AWOL since Thursday.”
There was a rustling at the other end of the line, then, “I knew it was a mistake to curb the idea of forming a league, Bruce. This sort of thing shouldn't be allowed to happen.”
“Well, it's a little late now, isn't it?” he shot back. “Listen, I've already called his mother, and no one else at the Planet has seen him, so we should start our search at the Fortress.”
“You know he doesn't like people in his Fortress without his permission.”
“He'll have to get over it, then. Meet me there in one hour.”
“All right. One hour.”
Hanging up, Bruce dared to send up a silent prayer that it wasn't Luthor that had him. God, anything but Luthor. He just knew Clark couldn't handle it, if it was.
~*~*~*~
Another fine weekend, another sunny summer day in Metropolis, and Clark didn't have a worry in the world. Certainly not with most of the Titans and half the League crowded into his backyard for the Fourth of July. Sure it was a lot of people to keep track of, and only a skeleton crew was on duty at the Watchtower for the evening, but there hadn't been any serious threats to the world in a good year and a half, and there wasn't anyone here that wasn't a part of the hero community, so it was all good.
Except. Except Clark couldn't help the feeling that there shouldn't even be a hero community. Which made absolutely no sense whatsoever.
“Clark! Snap out of it! Come on!”
Bruce's growling voice in his ear, urgent and panicked, tore him out of his little reverie as he looked over the gathering of his colleagues, family, and friends, and sent a cold shiver down his spine.
“Wh-what?” he murmured, turning in place to find the source of the frantic yelling.
But there was no one close to him, and Bruce was halfway across the yard, chatting with Ollie.
What the heck?
Striding over to his friends, Clark caught Bruce's attention. “Hey, were you just calling for me?”
The other man raised a dark eyebrow at him and shook his head slightly. “No. Is something wrong?”
At his friend's suddenly concerned posture and spiked heart rate, Clark backpedaled quickly with a wiggled finger in his ear as if to clear out the earwax. “Oh, no, sorry. I must just be hearing things,” he finished with a head shake of his own and crooked smile.
Bruce only looked slightly placated, but shrugged it off with a matching smile as Ollie put in, “Maybe you just need to air things out for a while. Good thing it's a nice day for it.”
“Definitely,” he agreed, clapping Ollie on the shoulder. “Guess I'd better see how the boys are doing on the grill,” he finished with a nod to both men. Turning to head up to the patio, he couldn't help the feeling that he had never met Ollie before in his life.
What on Earth was happening to him?
~*~*~*~
The relief of finding Clark at the Fortress was short-lived as the adrenaline-fueled panic of seeing his friend just standing there, wrapped up in writhing black vines, his eyes glazed over and distant, swept over him.
“Clark! Snap out of it! Come on!” he growled, starting on on the vines at once, trying to pry them off of the taller man. But long thorns pricked at him, digging into his palms right through his gauntlets, and the vines tightened their grip on the Kryptonian, seeping with black ooze. “Clark!!”
Behind him, a shout of alarm announced Diana's arrival just moments after his own, and the Amazon was right there beside him in another moment, grabbing at the vines, too.
“Great Hera, what is this?” she gaped, pulling and squeezing one thick tendril that had snaked around Clark's neck.
“I don't know,” Bruce shot back, feeling the warmth of blood and ooze pooling inside his gauntlets as he pulled harder against a vine, thorns be damned. “It's got him in some sort of trance.”
And again, the vines tightened their grip, holding Clark prisoner even as a few tendrils whipped out and caught Diana across the face, hard, drawing blood.
Diana growled in frustration and squeezed that one tendril around Clark's neck harder, digging her fingertips into the tough black flesh as frigid Arctic wind swept down over them all from the wide open apex of the Fortress. “Clark! You have to fight this! Please!”
~*~*~*~
Watching Lara catch anything he could throw her way during the family's weekly training session out at the farm, Clark couldn't help the swelling of pride in his chest. At nine years old, his dark-haired daughter was already a force to be reckoned with, fast, strong, and brilliant. When he tossed another salvo of hay bales in quick succession with different trajectories, he was simply awed by her improvement over the last few weeks, the way she got to every single one before they could hit the ground, and tossed them back in turn. Her skills were growing by leaps and bounds, almost literally at this point.
And she wasn't the only one making strides. Jason was already flying, BJ was running almost as fast as his sister at all of five years old, and even Kon was coming into his special abilities spectacularly. Really, Clark's shining sense of pride and love for his children was almost more than he could handle.
Glancing back at where his Ma was looking on from the back porch of the farmhouse, he felt like he finally really understood how she must have felt watching him come into his own. It was so satisfying, he couldn't even describe it.
So why couldn't he shake the constant sense of longing and grief weighing down his heart, as if he was living in a far-away dream? Forcing the feeling down, he called an end to their game of super-powered catch, and motioned for the kids to all head back up to the house for lunch.
~*~*~*~
Back in Metropolis after the long Sunday spent at the farm, Clark toted BJ up to bed, the little boy completely out already and drooling a little bit on his father's shoulder. Changing him into pajamas gently, Clark then tucked him under the covers and sat beside him for a long moment, stroking his hair back and watching his youngest son sleep, the same way he'd watched Lara and Jason sleep when they were little.
The same way he'd first seen Jason after discovering their relationship, so many years ago.
It was such a soothing thing, so magical, and yet... and yet, it felt to surreal, like something he could barely conceive of, even in his wildest dreams. He just couldn't figure out why.
“Clark?”
He looked up to find Lois standing in the doorway, a soft look on her face. Smiling back, he stood, then gave BJ one last look before stepping out into the hall with his wife and pulling the door almost closed. “He's out,” he said quietly. “Lara?”
“Out like a light. She must have worn herself out today, which is a feat in itself.”
“It's incredible how fast she's growing,” Clark shook his head, drawing Lois up to hug her tightly.
Squeezing him back, Lois murmured in his ear, “It's all real. Just go with it, Clark.”
Pulling back from her with a start, Clark looked her in the eyes, that sense of longing and despair tightening his chest again. “Wh-what do you mean?”
Lois brought a hand up to caress his cheek. “I mean, sometimes it's hard to believe it all, but it's all really happening, and we're the luckiest people in the whole world.”
“I―”
“You have to fight it, Clark! Fight!”
Whipping his head around, Clark sought out the source of the sudden voice. It... it was Diana... he thought. “Diana?”
But Lois caught his wrist, and for some reason Clark couldn't seem to tug himself free from her grip. “What's wrong, Clark?”
“I... I don't―”
She smiled up at him, eyes warm and mesmerizing. “You've had a long day, probably need to get some sleep, yourself. You'll feel better in the morning, I promise. I'll even get up early and make you coffee, how does that sound?”
“Um....” But he couldn't seem to find a response, couldn't uproot himself from the spot. He felt frozen, as if he was in some sort of Rockwell painting, all the things he'd ever wanted right here, in a world made just for him....
“Clark! It's not real! Wake up!!”
“B-Bruce?” he managed, the terrified panic of his friend's shout shaking him to the core.
“You have to fight it off! Fight, dammit!”
Lois's eyes bored into him, and he felt himself tumbling into her, the very air seeming to tighten around him, squeezing his body tightly and holding him in place.
“Don't leave, Daddy,” came a pair of new voices, and Clark looked down to find BJ and Lara clinging to him, little arms snaked around his legs and waist, powerful and unrelenting. BJ and Lara....
But Clark didn't have a daughter. Or a second son. Only Jason. Only....
His wife whispered in his ear, “It's all real. You can stay here, and be happy.”
It was... it....
Mesmerizing eyes, small children with incredible abilities, friends, teammates, barbecues, breakfast on Saturday.
Clark wanted to stay. But...
~*~*~*~
“Clark! It's not real! Wake up!!” Bruce screamed at his friend, frantically attacking the bizarre plant as it writhed and squeezed. “You have to fight it off! Fight, dammit!”
“It's not working, Bruce,” Diana gritted out beside him, still working on the tendril squeezing Clark's neck as others continued to whip out and flail against them, bruising and cutting them both with glistening thorns. “I don't think he can hear us.”
“Of course he can!” the Bat spat out, not ready to believe for a second that Clark was already gone. Reaching into his belt, he brought out a batarang and stabbed the plant right through a tendril, hard, relying on Clark's invulnerability to stop the blade. Black ooze ran from the wound, and Bruce jerked the batarang down, slicing straight through.
A sharp, piercing scream erupted from the plant at that, ethereal and nightmarish, and its tendrils began to flail, thorns striking Bruce everywhere, even as he tried to fight them away, and drawing blood where they met skin.
One thick tendril flew out and smacked Diana across the torso, flinging her away, and she roared with horror and fury as the plant began to wrap itself around Bruce, trying to hold both men at once, thick vines pulsating with ooze. “No!! Let them go!” she cried out as she tried to recover from the strike and set herself once again upon the vines. “Clark! Bruce!!”
~*~*~*~
Another beautiful morning, coffee and pancakes on the table. Clark's favorites, always his favorites. Smiling as he slid into his chair, he looked around at his family, all seated already and gazing at him expectantly. Such a beautiful family. God, he was lucky.
Lois spoke up as she poured his coffee. “Bruce called for you earlier. Said something about a merger, and that he had a surprise for us. Ask me, I think he's planning on buying the Planet outright. And it's about time, too.”
“I know,” Clark nodded. “Seems like he's had his eye on the paper for a long time. Like he―”
Something was wrong.
Looking at his family more closely, eyes narrowed, Clark saw... he... he wasn't sure.
Lara met his stare squarely, dark curls framing her face, her eyes just like her mother's, warm and... and mesmerizing. “Everything's fine, Daddy. You're staying. You have to stay.”
Clark shook his head, that feeling of longing squeezing his chest.
Bruce. Bruce was in trouble.
“I... I have to go,” he murmured, feeling his insides ripped apart with grief. “Bruce.”
Lois's hand caught his wrist in a tight grip. “Bruce is here with us. He's happy, and we're all so lucky.”
“N-No. No,” Clark said more firmly, fighting down a wail of anguish. “This... this isn't real. It's―”
“No!! Let them go! Clark! Bruce!!”
That sense that everything here was utterly wrong struck him hard, harder than it had over the last few... how long had he even been here?
“What is this?” he managed with a strangled groan, standing from the table and toppling his chair as he stepped away in a hurry.
His family... they weren't his family.
Black vines, twisting, squeezing.
Clark blinked hard.
Lara, with her mother's eyes, BJ, with his, and Jason, so grown already. So―
“No!!” he cried out, blinking again, feeling the world rending in two.
“Daddy, please stay,” all his children said at once, eyes pleading. “Stay! We love you!”
“No!!” he cried again, hot tears stinging his eyes.
Black vines, poisonous thorns, seeping ooze.
“Clark! Fight it!! Help me, it's got Bruce!!”
“Diana?”
Another blink, and the kitchen was gone. His family.... there was no family. He could hardly move, he... he had to!
Wrenching an arm free from the impossibly strong tangle of vines and thorns, he winced at the high-pitched squeal of alarm the... the thing let loose.
“Clark! Clark!” Diana wailed at the sight of him working to free himself. “Thank Hera! Please, it's got Bruce, too!”
And he remembered. Everything, from the 'meteorite' at S.T.A.R. Labs that was more like an egg, to his own investigation of the alien plant here at the Fortress, to... to the first vision, the taste of all he'd ever wanted, all he'd ever dreamed of.
Righteous anger boiled in his veins at the anguish this thing had caused, and it was only another heartbeat before he felt the familiar heat in his eyes. Snarling with rage at what this plant had done to him, and what it was likely doing to Bruce, the Bat trying to fight off the tendrils that had latched onto him, Clark let every bit of despair out with a criss-cross of his heat vision.
The plant hissed and screamed in pain at the searing cauterization as its tendrils were severed, over and over, the Fortress filled with cries of rage and unimaginable agony and the air sizzling with the stench of burned ooze.
Ripping the remains of the alien plant away, satisfied at the tearing of charred flesh and the crunching of broken thorns, Clark cast as much of the thing aside as he could, Diana working beside him to free Bruce from the dying vines. How could this have happened? How!?
“Clark!” the Amazon demanded. “Clark, stop! It's over!”
At the command in her voice, he froze, took a shuddering breath, and faced her, dropping to his knees. “Oh, God,” he managed weakly, before turning slightly and losing the contents of his stomach all over the Fortress floor.
Body shivering and trembling from the force of it, from the weight of all he'd seen, Clark simply lost it, tears hot and steaming away over his still-burning eyes, choking sobs squeezing his throat. He... he didn't have any of that. It was all some insane dream. And―
A hand settled over his back as he knelt with his palms on the floor, warm and strong and solid and real, while another pulled one last tendril of the alien plant from around his neck, black ooze lubricating the way with a sickly squelch. He sucked in another deep breath, tasting the burning rot in the air, then took another, and another, slowly regaining control.
Lifting his head, he sat back on his haunches and looked way up at his friends, saw Diana discard the last piece of tendril and check Bruce over for serious wounds.
Bruce gazed back down at him, understanding in haunted eyes as he bled from a few dozen small cuts around his face and hands, his gauntlets ripped nearly to shreds. “Come on,” the Bat rasped, reaching down a hand to help Clark up from the floor, “Let's get cleaned up and go home.”
Taking the offered hand, Clark nodded weakly as he slowly stood. “I think,” he started, his own voice small and rough. “I think maybe starting a League is a good idea, after all.”
His friends on either side of him as they all supported each other and headed for the Fortress's facilities, Diana and Bruce both nodded with a chorused, “Agreed.”
~*~*~*~
Back at the Planet a few days later, Clark couldn't help watching Lois across the bullpen as she worked at her desk. Even after taking time to recover from the fantasy world that the alien plant had imprisoned him in, he still couldn't shake the sense of loss over the life he should have had. In that world, Lois had been his wife of eleven years, and they'd been so happy. They'd even had two other children, who, at this rate, might never exist in this world. It had been so different there, in all the ways that seemed to matter. His family, the League, Luthor six feet under, and the world at peace, for the most part.
It could never happen. Not here. Especially not after the last year he'd completely lost to wallowing in his own self-pity.
But... maybe there was still hope. For some of it, anyway. He, Bruce, and Diana had started working to put together that League, though they were still a long way off from what he'd seen in the dream. They'd found Oliver Queen, also known as Green Arrow, at least, and Clark had been pretty surprised to discover that that detail was real.
Clark had even started his search for Luthor again. The man had to be somewhere, and even if there was little chance they'd find him dead, he could still be brought to justice for the things he'd done.
Which just left Lois.... Problem was, even though they still hadn't set a date, she and Richard seemed to be getting along great, and Clark was not about to do anything to break them up.
Swallowing down the feeling of longing as it settled around his heart and formed a knot in his throat, Clark decided that whatever happened, happened. And no matter the outcome, he had to at least take control of something.
A deep breath, and he stood from his desk, crossed the bullpen in a few strides.
“Um, Lois?” he started. When she tore her gaze away from her computer and looked way up at him, eyes warm, sharp, and focused, he went on, “Can we go somewhere and talk? There's something I need to tell you.”
“About where you disappeared to? You know we were all pretty worried about you.”
“Um, sort of. Yes,” he nodded, remembering the frantic call that Bruce had told him about.
Lois checked her watch. “Well, how about lunch? I'm absolutely starving.”
Clark smiled despite himself. “Sure, but do you mind if we get something to-go and maybe take it to the park? What I have to say is kind of... private.”
“It's a little cold out for a walk in the park, don't you think?” she said, raising an eyebrow.
“Huh? Oh!” he startled, remembering that yes, it was still the middle of winter, and while the frigid rain had finally stopped, snow had snuck in behind it. “Um...” He racked his brain for a moment, trying to find a better solution, and... and a slow smile moved over his face again as an idea dawned on him. “I know just the place.”
He just hoped he'd remembered to clean up the last of that alien plant and turn the heat back up. Because if not, well... no, either way, everything was going to be perfectly fine, no matter what happened. And that was simply that.
~*~*~*~
Author's Notes #2: If you recognize the story, that's because it's a new take on a classic Superman tale, For the Man Who Has Everything, in which the villain Mongul sends the Black Mercy plant to subdue Superman by imprisoning him in a telepathic dream world, where Clark dreams of living on Krypton with his wife and children. I really wanted to do the Superman Returns version of the story, so of course I couldn't resist using the Aftermath-verse as the world that this Clark can only dream of, as his dreams of a life on Krypton have been completely destroyed.
Fandom: DCU/Superman Returns/Batman Begins
Characters/Pairing: Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Bruce Wayne, Diana Prince, Jason White, Richard White, Oliver Queen (Clark Kent/Lois Lane)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 5,431
Prompt: For the Planet September Fic Grab: Extricate
Summary: When Clark wakes up in a world where everything seems perfect, he can't help feeling like something's not right.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own it all. I own nothing. Darnit.
Author's Notes: If you're confused initially, don't worry, it'll all make sense eventually, and there are more author's notes at the end of the fic to settle that feeling of deja vu. ^_~
Glimpse
Rain again. Clark couldn't really say he was surprised, with the weather being so crazy lately. Just another sign of global warming, which he might have known was coming if he hadn't been off on his crusade for five years.
But really, global warming was pretty low on the totem pole right now. Having come home to Luthor's insanity and subsequent disappearance, finding the world in shambles, his love lost, and a son he didn't even know about being raised by another man, Clark wasn't sure he'd ever get a handle on his priorities.
Stepping out into the drizzly afternoon, he left his slow, boring day of writing obits and page-4 articles at the Planet behind, the job washed away by the cold rain falling over Metropolis. A long, wet walk to his tiny apartment on the outskirts of Metropolis Heights, a tedious hike up sixteen flights of stairs.
He could've double-timed it, but what was the use? He'd just be out the door again in ten minutes, anyway. With his focus turned inward, he was cheating, really, but it would give him just enough time to catch a proper shower and heat up some leftovers for an early dinner before he'd have to turn his focus out to the world again, just like every evening, and find some disaster that would require his attention.
Of course, he could just ignore it all, watch some bad television, turn in early.
Dream of things he shouldn't, of people he'd be better off not dreaming about.
But again, what was the use?
Finally on his floor, Clark trudged the twenty-two feet to his door, put his key in the lock, turned the knob. Same old routine, already lock-step after the year and some months since he got back. He could do it all in his sleep if he had to.
He hung up his coat, dropped his keys and wallet in the bowl on the end table, grabbed his phone to check his voicemail.
“Hi, this message is for Mister Clark Kent. This is Kelly, from AT&T, and I'm calling today to invite you to sign up for―”
Clark pressed '3' to delete the message with a beep.
“Hey, Clark, it's Jimmy. The Chief wanted me to remind you to get that story on the city's New Year's preparations in by noon tomorrow, or else he's gonna have our heads on platters. Oh! And don't forget you're invited to the―”
Beep.
Story in by noon, invited to a party he didn't want to go to, yeah, Clark got it all already. Sure, Jimmy meant well, but at this point, he just didn't want to hear it anymore.
“Mister Kent? Doctor Hamilton, S.T.A.R. Labs. That meteorite that fell in Alaska last month? Well, we've got it here at S.T.A.R. You might be interested in this. In fact, I'm certain you'll be interested. Please do call back. Either I or Doctor Faulkner will be on hand through the night working out... well, whatever this is.”
Scrubbing a hand over his face, Clark pressed '3' and sat the handset back in its cradle, then headed for that shower he'd promised himself. Not that he really cared at this point, but naturally he couldn't resist a little curiosity. Something from the sky that the best scientists around couldn't figure out? If nothing else, it might at least be something to break the monotony.
~*~*~*~
It was the rich aroma of coffee that woke Clark from a deep, dreamless sleep. A smile on his lips as he blinked the sleep away, the warmth of the morning sun falling across his face, he breathed deep. Usually it was him that was up first, waking Lois with fresh coffee, but today must be his lucky day. Was it Sunday already? No, definitely still Saturday, if his leftover exhaustion from a busy Friday evening was any indication.
Stretching, he sat up and slipped out of bed, then hit the bathroom and padded downstairs in his pajama pants and gray Met U t-shirt to find Lois pouring the coffee while Jason was in the middle of flipping a row of pancakes on their long griddle over the stove. At the kitchen island, Lara and Kon were busy cutting up fruit to go on the pancakes, while BJ was watching TV out in the living room.
“What's all this?” he asked, taken aback by the sight in front of him as he stepped close to Lois and wrapped his arms around her, tucking a kiss into the crook of her neck.
“What do you think it is?” she smiled back, turning to gaze up at him. “It's breakfast.”
“I see that. But isn't this usually the other way around?”
Lois pulled away just enough to turn in the circle of his arms and wrap her own arms around his waist. “Well, yes, but I thought I'd do something nice for you for a change. Is that so unthinkable?” she finished, teasing.
“I think it's wonderful,” he replied, dipping his head to give her a proper kiss.
“Hey, hey! None of that in the kitchen!” Jason interrupted from his spot in front of the stove, spatula in mid-flip. “Some of us want to keep our appetites, you know.”
Chuckling at his oldest son's ribbing, Clark released his wife and grabbed up a mug of coffee before shooting back, “You're lucky all we did was kiss. You didn't just spring fully-formed from your mother's womb, you know. And at sixteen, you should really know.”
“And now I have lost my appetite. Thanks, Dad.”
“You're very welcome,” Clark smirked. Sipping his coffee, he enjoyed the mayhem that had erupted around them, Lara and Kon groaning in protest of their oh-so-delicate sensibilities being so offended. When a dishtowel hit him square in the face from across the kitchen, he couldn't help sharing a smirk with Lois. Sometimes it was just too fun to mess with the kids like this.
But all too soon, their easy morning was interrupted by the ring of Clark's cell, still sitting on the counter where he'd left it after coming in late from a night of not-so-fun rescues. Snatching it up and flipping it open after a quick glance at the call ID, he answered the call with, “Lane-Kent residence, home of PDAs and traumatized teenagers.”
“Cute, Clark,” came Bruce's poorly-disguised amusement from the other end of the call. “I know it's your weekend off, but some serious League business just came up, and we need everyone at the Watchtower.”
Clark struggled to hold in his disappointed sigh at that. “You're kidding, right?”
“I wish I was. How soon can you be there?”
“I suppose two hours is asking too much.”
Bruce chuckled. “No, that's fine. Finish your breakfast, and we'll see you about ten.”
He couldn't help his smile at his old friend's concession. “Thanks, Bruce. I'll see you there.”
Ending the call, Clark stashed his cell in a pajama pocket and turned to Lois's cautiously optimistic expression, one of her eyebrows raised. “Let me guess. You're needed,” she said.
“I've got two hours, plenty of time. And hopefully this'll be short.”
Lois wrapped her arms around his waist again. “Well, good. Because otherwise, I'd have had to give Bruce an earful.” Finishing with a decisive nod, she reached up on her tiptoes and gave him a firm kiss.
“All right, breakfast is ready,” Jason announced from the other side of the kitchen, stacked plate of pancakes in hand as he headed for the table, Lara following with the fruit and Kon with the syrup and other fixings. “Not that any of us actually want to eat now.”
Clark chuckled against Lois's lips. “I think we should traumatize them more often.”
“You're on, Kent.”
~*~*~*~
If his weekend luck held true, Clark was certain the week would be a good one. Stepping out of the elevator on his way into work on Monday morning, he couldn't help whistling to himself. God, it was a beautiful morning, even with two quick rescues before breakfast and one on his way into the Planet. Sun shining warm, a light breeze, nothing too seriously wrong with the world at the moment. Of course, that could change at any time, but for now, it was good.
“Morning, Clark,” a voice greeted him as he cut through the lobby toward the bullpen.
Turning, he found Richard striding out of the other elevator, smiling, his briefcase in hand. “Oh, hey, Richard,” he called back, waiting for the other man to catch up with him. “Have a good weekend?”
“I was about to ask the you the same thing.”
Clark couldn't help laughing at their sense of timing. “Mine was great,” he said, his gaze sweeping through the lobby as he turned back to step through the double glass doors. “Lois and the kids made breakfast on Saturday, and―”
But his train of thought derailed for a moment as he noticed the framed enlarged copy of a past Planet front page hanging on the far wall of the lobby.
“Lex Luthor Found Dead, Kryptonite Plot Foiled By Alien Ship,” was the headline.
“Hey, Earth to Clark.”
The snap of Richard's fingers brought Clark out of his brief trance, and he shook his head as they stepped into the bullpen and headed down the center aisle toward their respective offices. “Sorry, got lost in thought there for a minute. Um, has that front page always been out there?”
“For the last eleven years, yeah,” Richard answered, his brow just slightly furrowed. “Why?”
Clark shook his head again. “Um, no reason. Guess I'm just having a weird morning,” he brushed it off.
The other man nodded, seeming to accept his explanation, before breaking off for his own office and leaving Clark in the middle of the bullpen.
Heading in the opposite direction, Clark suddenly couldn't help the feeling that there was something very wrong with that headline. He couldn't seem to remember a single thing that it had implied. Not any alien ship, no kryptonite plot, and most importantly, not the death of one Lex Luthor.
~*~*~*~
“What do you mean, you haven't seen him?” Lois spat into her cell phone. “Clark disappears for three days, leaving no word with me, or Jimmy, or Perry, all we can figure is that he's quit again, and you, his best friend, haven't seen him? You've gotta be kidding me.”
From the other end of the line, Bruce barked back, “I'm serious. I haven't seen him since Thursday. It's not like he checks in with me every minute of every day, just because we have lunch every once in a while.”
“Dammit, if you don't know where he is, then who the hell would?”
A long silence, then, “I'll call Martha Kent. Maybe she knows something.”
Of course. Lois had completely forgotten about Clark's elderly mother. “Yeah,” she responded after a moment with a long sigh, rubbing her temple with her fingers. “Yeah, all right. Just, let me know if you find him. Perry's going ape shit over the articles Clark was supposed to hand in three days ago, and Jimmy's worrying the hell out of me. It's not like Clark to just disappear. Well, not like this, anyway.”
“I'll let you know as soon as I find him, Lois, I promise.”
~*~*~*~
After hanging up with Mrs. Kent ten minutes later, no closer to finding Clark and assuaging Lois's fears, Bruce immediately dialed Diana's number, a sick feeling settling into his gut. One ring, two, then the call was answered with an easy, “Morning, Bruce. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Clark is missing. Three days, at least.”
He could almost hear her sitting up straighter and her senses sharpening in the span of a heartbeat. “What?”
“I got a call from Lois Lane. You remember, Clark's old partner at the Planet?”
“Yes, I remember her.”
“He's apparently been AWOL since Thursday.”
There was a rustling at the other end of the line, then, “I knew it was a mistake to curb the idea of forming a league, Bruce. This sort of thing shouldn't be allowed to happen.”
“Well, it's a little late now, isn't it?” he shot back. “Listen, I've already called his mother, and no one else at the Planet has seen him, so we should start our search at the Fortress.”
“You know he doesn't like people in his Fortress without his permission.”
“He'll have to get over it, then. Meet me there in one hour.”
“All right. One hour.”
Hanging up, Bruce dared to send up a silent prayer that it wasn't Luthor that had him. God, anything but Luthor. He just knew Clark couldn't handle it, if it was.
~*~*~*~
Another fine weekend, another sunny summer day in Metropolis, and Clark didn't have a worry in the world. Certainly not with most of the Titans and half the League crowded into his backyard for the Fourth of July. Sure it was a lot of people to keep track of, and only a skeleton crew was on duty at the Watchtower for the evening, but there hadn't been any serious threats to the world in a good year and a half, and there wasn't anyone here that wasn't a part of the hero community, so it was all good.
Except. Except Clark couldn't help the feeling that there shouldn't even be a hero community. Which made absolutely no sense whatsoever.
“Clark! Snap out of it! Come on!”
Bruce's growling voice in his ear, urgent and panicked, tore him out of his little reverie as he looked over the gathering of his colleagues, family, and friends, and sent a cold shiver down his spine.
“Wh-what?” he murmured, turning in place to find the source of the frantic yelling.
But there was no one close to him, and Bruce was halfway across the yard, chatting with Ollie.
What the heck?
Striding over to his friends, Clark caught Bruce's attention. “Hey, were you just calling for me?”
The other man raised a dark eyebrow at him and shook his head slightly. “No. Is something wrong?”
At his friend's suddenly concerned posture and spiked heart rate, Clark backpedaled quickly with a wiggled finger in his ear as if to clear out the earwax. “Oh, no, sorry. I must just be hearing things,” he finished with a head shake of his own and crooked smile.
Bruce only looked slightly placated, but shrugged it off with a matching smile as Ollie put in, “Maybe you just need to air things out for a while. Good thing it's a nice day for it.”
“Definitely,” he agreed, clapping Ollie on the shoulder. “Guess I'd better see how the boys are doing on the grill,” he finished with a nod to both men. Turning to head up to the patio, he couldn't help the feeling that he had never met Ollie before in his life.
What on Earth was happening to him?
~*~*~*~
The relief of finding Clark at the Fortress was short-lived as the adrenaline-fueled panic of seeing his friend just standing there, wrapped up in writhing black vines, his eyes glazed over and distant, swept over him.
“Clark! Snap out of it! Come on!” he growled, starting on on the vines at once, trying to pry them off of the taller man. But long thorns pricked at him, digging into his palms right through his gauntlets, and the vines tightened their grip on the Kryptonian, seeping with black ooze. “Clark!!”
Behind him, a shout of alarm announced Diana's arrival just moments after his own, and the Amazon was right there beside him in another moment, grabbing at the vines, too.
“Great Hera, what is this?” she gaped, pulling and squeezing one thick tendril that had snaked around Clark's neck.
“I don't know,” Bruce shot back, feeling the warmth of blood and ooze pooling inside his gauntlets as he pulled harder against a vine, thorns be damned. “It's got him in some sort of trance.”
And again, the vines tightened their grip, holding Clark prisoner even as a few tendrils whipped out and caught Diana across the face, hard, drawing blood.
Diana growled in frustration and squeezed that one tendril around Clark's neck harder, digging her fingertips into the tough black flesh as frigid Arctic wind swept down over them all from the wide open apex of the Fortress. “Clark! You have to fight this! Please!”
~*~*~*~
Watching Lara catch anything he could throw her way during the family's weekly training session out at the farm, Clark couldn't help the swelling of pride in his chest. At nine years old, his dark-haired daughter was already a force to be reckoned with, fast, strong, and brilliant. When he tossed another salvo of hay bales in quick succession with different trajectories, he was simply awed by her improvement over the last few weeks, the way she got to every single one before they could hit the ground, and tossed them back in turn. Her skills were growing by leaps and bounds, almost literally at this point.
And she wasn't the only one making strides. Jason was already flying, BJ was running almost as fast as his sister at all of five years old, and even Kon was coming into his special abilities spectacularly. Really, Clark's shining sense of pride and love for his children was almost more than he could handle.
Glancing back at where his Ma was looking on from the back porch of the farmhouse, he felt like he finally really understood how she must have felt watching him come into his own. It was so satisfying, he couldn't even describe it.
So why couldn't he shake the constant sense of longing and grief weighing down his heart, as if he was living in a far-away dream? Forcing the feeling down, he called an end to their game of super-powered catch, and motioned for the kids to all head back up to the house for lunch.
~*~*~*~
Back in Metropolis after the long Sunday spent at the farm, Clark toted BJ up to bed, the little boy completely out already and drooling a little bit on his father's shoulder. Changing him into pajamas gently, Clark then tucked him under the covers and sat beside him for a long moment, stroking his hair back and watching his youngest son sleep, the same way he'd watched Lara and Jason sleep when they were little.
The same way he'd first seen Jason after discovering their relationship, so many years ago.
It was such a soothing thing, so magical, and yet... and yet, it felt to surreal, like something he could barely conceive of, even in his wildest dreams. He just couldn't figure out why.
“Clark?”
He looked up to find Lois standing in the doorway, a soft look on her face. Smiling back, he stood, then gave BJ one last look before stepping out into the hall with his wife and pulling the door almost closed. “He's out,” he said quietly. “Lara?”
“Out like a light. She must have worn herself out today, which is a feat in itself.”
“It's incredible how fast she's growing,” Clark shook his head, drawing Lois up to hug her tightly.
Squeezing him back, Lois murmured in his ear, “It's all real. Just go with it, Clark.”
Pulling back from her with a start, Clark looked her in the eyes, that sense of longing and despair tightening his chest again. “Wh-what do you mean?”
Lois brought a hand up to caress his cheek. “I mean, sometimes it's hard to believe it all, but it's all really happening, and we're the luckiest people in the whole world.”
“I―”
“You have to fight it, Clark! Fight!”
Whipping his head around, Clark sought out the source of the sudden voice. It... it was Diana... he thought. “Diana?”
But Lois caught his wrist, and for some reason Clark couldn't seem to tug himself free from her grip. “What's wrong, Clark?”
“I... I don't―”
She smiled up at him, eyes warm and mesmerizing. “You've had a long day, probably need to get some sleep, yourself. You'll feel better in the morning, I promise. I'll even get up early and make you coffee, how does that sound?”
“Um....” But he couldn't seem to find a response, couldn't uproot himself from the spot. He felt frozen, as if he was in some sort of Rockwell painting, all the things he'd ever wanted right here, in a world made just for him....
“Clark! It's not real! Wake up!!”
“B-Bruce?” he managed, the terrified panic of his friend's shout shaking him to the core.
“You have to fight it off! Fight, dammit!”
Lois's eyes bored into him, and he felt himself tumbling into her, the very air seeming to tighten around him, squeezing his body tightly and holding him in place.
“Don't leave, Daddy,” came a pair of new voices, and Clark looked down to find BJ and Lara clinging to him, little arms snaked around his legs and waist, powerful and unrelenting. BJ and Lara....
But Clark didn't have a daughter. Or a second son. Only Jason. Only....
His wife whispered in his ear, “It's all real. You can stay here, and be happy.”
It was... it....
Mesmerizing eyes, small children with incredible abilities, friends, teammates, barbecues, breakfast on Saturday.
Clark wanted to stay. But...
~*~*~*~
“Clark! It's not real! Wake up!!” Bruce screamed at his friend, frantically attacking the bizarre plant as it writhed and squeezed. “You have to fight it off! Fight, dammit!”
“It's not working, Bruce,” Diana gritted out beside him, still working on the tendril squeezing Clark's neck as others continued to whip out and flail against them, bruising and cutting them both with glistening thorns. “I don't think he can hear us.”
“Of course he can!” the Bat spat out, not ready to believe for a second that Clark was already gone. Reaching into his belt, he brought out a batarang and stabbed the plant right through a tendril, hard, relying on Clark's invulnerability to stop the blade. Black ooze ran from the wound, and Bruce jerked the batarang down, slicing straight through.
A sharp, piercing scream erupted from the plant at that, ethereal and nightmarish, and its tendrils began to flail, thorns striking Bruce everywhere, even as he tried to fight them away, and drawing blood where they met skin.
One thick tendril flew out and smacked Diana across the torso, flinging her away, and she roared with horror and fury as the plant began to wrap itself around Bruce, trying to hold both men at once, thick vines pulsating with ooze. “No!! Let them go!” she cried out as she tried to recover from the strike and set herself once again upon the vines. “Clark! Bruce!!”
~*~*~*~
Another beautiful morning, coffee and pancakes on the table. Clark's favorites, always his favorites. Smiling as he slid into his chair, he looked around at his family, all seated already and gazing at him expectantly. Such a beautiful family. God, he was lucky.
Lois spoke up as she poured his coffee. “Bruce called for you earlier. Said something about a merger, and that he had a surprise for us. Ask me, I think he's planning on buying the Planet outright. And it's about time, too.”
“I know,” Clark nodded. “Seems like he's had his eye on the paper for a long time. Like he―”
Something was wrong.
Looking at his family more closely, eyes narrowed, Clark saw... he... he wasn't sure.
Lara met his stare squarely, dark curls framing her face, her eyes just like her mother's, warm and... and mesmerizing. “Everything's fine, Daddy. You're staying. You have to stay.”
Clark shook his head, that feeling of longing squeezing his chest.
Bruce. Bruce was in trouble.
“I... I have to go,” he murmured, feeling his insides ripped apart with grief. “Bruce.”
Lois's hand caught his wrist in a tight grip. “Bruce is here with us. He's happy, and we're all so lucky.”
“N-No. No,” Clark said more firmly, fighting down a wail of anguish. “This... this isn't real. It's―”
“No!! Let them go! Clark! Bruce!!”
That sense that everything here was utterly wrong struck him hard, harder than it had over the last few... how long had he even been here?
“What is this?” he managed with a strangled groan, standing from the table and toppling his chair as he stepped away in a hurry.
His family... they weren't his family.
Black vines, twisting, squeezing.
Clark blinked hard.
Lara, with her mother's eyes, BJ, with his, and Jason, so grown already. So―
“No!!” he cried out, blinking again, feeling the world rending in two.
“Daddy, please stay,” all his children said at once, eyes pleading. “Stay! We love you!”
“No!!” he cried again, hot tears stinging his eyes.
Black vines, poisonous thorns, seeping ooze.
“Clark! Fight it!! Help me, it's got Bruce!!”
“Diana?”
Another blink, and the kitchen was gone. His family.... there was no family. He could hardly move, he... he had to!
Wrenching an arm free from the impossibly strong tangle of vines and thorns, he winced at the high-pitched squeal of alarm the... the thing let loose.
“Clark! Clark!” Diana wailed at the sight of him working to free himself. “Thank Hera! Please, it's got Bruce, too!”
And he remembered. Everything, from the 'meteorite' at S.T.A.R. Labs that was more like an egg, to his own investigation of the alien plant here at the Fortress, to... to the first vision, the taste of all he'd ever wanted, all he'd ever dreamed of.
Righteous anger boiled in his veins at the anguish this thing had caused, and it was only another heartbeat before he felt the familiar heat in his eyes. Snarling with rage at what this plant had done to him, and what it was likely doing to Bruce, the Bat trying to fight off the tendrils that had latched onto him, Clark let every bit of despair out with a criss-cross of his heat vision.
The plant hissed and screamed in pain at the searing cauterization as its tendrils were severed, over and over, the Fortress filled with cries of rage and unimaginable agony and the air sizzling with the stench of burned ooze.
Ripping the remains of the alien plant away, satisfied at the tearing of charred flesh and the crunching of broken thorns, Clark cast as much of the thing aside as he could, Diana working beside him to free Bruce from the dying vines. How could this have happened? How!?
“Clark!” the Amazon demanded. “Clark, stop! It's over!”
At the command in her voice, he froze, took a shuddering breath, and faced her, dropping to his knees. “Oh, God,” he managed weakly, before turning slightly and losing the contents of his stomach all over the Fortress floor.
Body shivering and trembling from the force of it, from the weight of all he'd seen, Clark simply lost it, tears hot and steaming away over his still-burning eyes, choking sobs squeezing his throat. He... he didn't have any of that. It was all some insane dream. And―
A hand settled over his back as he knelt with his palms on the floor, warm and strong and solid and real, while another pulled one last tendril of the alien plant from around his neck, black ooze lubricating the way with a sickly squelch. He sucked in another deep breath, tasting the burning rot in the air, then took another, and another, slowly regaining control.
Lifting his head, he sat back on his haunches and looked way up at his friends, saw Diana discard the last piece of tendril and check Bruce over for serious wounds.
Bruce gazed back down at him, understanding in haunted eyes as he bled from a few dozen small cuts around his face and hands, his gauntlets ripped nearly to shreds. “Come on,” the Bat rasped, reaching down a hand to help Clark up from the floor, “Let's get cleaned up and go home.”
Taking the offered hand, Clark nodded weakly as he slowly stood. “I think,” he started, his own voice small and rough. “I think maybe starting a League is a good idea, after all.”
His friends on either side of him as they all supported each other and headed for the Fortress's facilities, Diana and Bruce both nodded with a chorused, “Agreed.”
~*~*~*~
Back at the Planet a few days later, Clark couldn't help watching Lois across the bullpen as she worked at her desk. Even after taking time to recover from the fantasy world that the alien plant had imprisoned him in, he still couldn't shake the sense of loss over the life he should have had. In that world, Lois had been his wife of eleven years, and they'd been so happy. They'd even had two other children, who, at this rate, might never exist in this world. It had been so different there, in all the ways that seemed to matter. His family, the League, Luthor six feet under, and the world at peace, for the most part.
It could never happen. Not here. Especially not after the last year he'd completely lost to wallowing in his own self-pity.
But... maybe there was still hope. For some of it, anyway. He, Bruce, and Diana had started working to put together that League, though they were still a long way off from what he'd seen in the dream. They'd found Oliver Queen, also known as Green Arrow, at least, and Clark had been pretty surprised to discover that that detail was real.
Clark had even started his search for Luthor again. The man had to be somewhere, and even if there was little chance they'd find him dead, he could still be brought to justice for the things he'd done.
Which just left Lois.... Problem was, even though they still hadn't set a date, she and Richard seemed to be getting along great, and Clark was not about to do anything to break them up.
Swallowing down the feeling of longing as it settled around his heart and formed a knot in his throat, Clark decided that whatever happened, happened. And no matter the outcome, he had to at least take control of something.
A deep breath, and he stood from his desk, crossed the bullpen in a few strides.
“Um, Lois?” he started. When she tore her gaze away from her computer and looked way up at him, eyes warm, sharp, and focused, he went on, “Can we go somewhere and talk? There's something I need to tell you.”
“About where you disappeared to? You know we were all pretty worried about you.”
“Um, sort of. Yes,” he nodded, remembering the frantic call that Bruce had told him about.
Lois checked her watch. “Well, how about lunch? I'm absolutely starving.”
Clark smiled despite himself. “Sure, but do you mind if we get something to-go and maybe take it to the park? What I have to say is kind of... private.”
“It's a little cold out for a walk in the park, don't you think?” she said, raising an eyebrow.
“Huh? Oh!” he startled, remembering that yes, it was still the middle of winter, and while the frigid rain had finally stopped, snow had snuck in behind it. “Um...” He racked his brain for a moment, trying to find a better solution, and... and a slow smile moved over his face again as an idea dawned on him. “I know just the place.”
He just hoped he'd remembered to clean up the last of that alien plant and turn the heat back up. Because if not, well... no, either way, everything was going to be perfectly fine, no matter what happened. And that was simply that.
~*~*~*~
Author's Notes #2: If you recognize the story, that's because it's a new take on a classic Superman tale, For the Man Who Has Everything, in which the villain Mongul sends the Black Mercy plant to subdue Superman by imprisoning him in a telepathic dream world, where Clark dreams of living on Krypton with his wife and children. I really wanted to do the Superman Returns version of the story, so of course I couldn't resist using the Aftermath-verse as the world that this Clark can only dream of, as his dreams of a life on Krypton have been completely destroyed.