001 - First Article - Video (post-sirens)
[The brunette on the video sports quite a few cuts and bruises; it looks like someone didn’t take her first night out seriously enough. From the scene behind her, she’s in the shelter-dugout, for those who would recognize it.] Okay, newsflash of the hour: humans totally have parental instincts coded into them, and it sucks
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However, then the door opens, the lights flick off--and before her brain entirely processes that familiar rush of air, she shrieks slightly and jumps, dropping her NV as she does. It means there's still faint light, but not much, as she whirls around and blinks, trying to peer into the gloom.]
OKAY, new rule, whatever the hell you are you freaking say something before opening the door that isn't supposed to just open on its own like some sort of--
[And then her brain catches up--because, really her mouth just sometimes operates before the rest of her. And Lois just stops, staring, trying desperately to make out... something. Some feature of his face, the symbol on his chest--but unlike the Blur's latest uniform, his shield doesn't glow in the darkness like the silver. Her heart is racing and she has honestly never been so scared--scared that it's not him, scared that it's something trying to pretend to be him because it's the best way in the world to hurt her.
When she does speak, her voice is tight.]
Whoever you are: I swear to god, if you are just pretending to be someone I know, I don't care what the hell superpowers you have I will shove my NV so far up your ass you will need surgery, got it?
[...Your sort-of-girlfriend is really a lovely human being, Clark.]
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So he just stays back and lets her seethe for a moment.
Then flashes forward and picks up her NV, clicking it off. He doesn't want this sent out by accidental audio or anything like that. This is private.
He raises his eyes, and they blaze red for just a moment. On the opposite wall, behind Lois, a blazing red House of El symbol is carved immediately into the wall, filling the room with a soft red glow that reflects off the edges of his face and makes the red cape and the red S on his chest far more prominent; glaringly so. There can't be any mistake now.
So he speaks, softly, his voice an octave down from normal.]
I didn't mean to frighten you.
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The color is--okay, so she knows that shield, no question about it. And... he looks right. More or less right. Right angles, right general size (who else in the world would be that big, he made even her feel short sometimes and she's taller than a lot of guys she knows, especially in her heels). And... well. That speed habit, and the shield, and leaving the mark burned into the dugout... Now the city'll know he's been here, she thinks with a bit of a smile curling her lips, color rushing back to her face. That he's watching over this place, too. God, I was so worried about you, idiot farm boy.
The depth of his voice, however, startles her, and for the first time she doubts herself a little. A bit of confusion crosses her face, for just a moment (red and blue, those are Clark's colors, it has to be him) before she lowers her eyes and turns around. Just in case, she closes her eyes--though not before smiling at the shield now burned into the wall again.
She's giving him this much. She knows he always preferred it that way.]
Not... actually your fault. I guess I'm a little jumpy.
[And then, quieter, almost wistfully.]
Is it really you?
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So he doesn't leave her to panic over it for too long. He steps forward and reaches out, placing his hand on her shoulder, and he waits for her fingers to close over his, waits, knowing that this is right, that they're getting off on the right kilter and maybe - just maybe - he can actually do this.]
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(He might be just paranoid enough to worry about that for now.)
And, after seeing him with that knife in his chest, she is just bold enough to turn his hand over, bringing his warm palm to her cheek. He can probably feel the smile she can't suppress, now.
Alternate dimension? Eh, whatever. Clark's safe and breathing and here. The rest she can handle.]
Hi.
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Their last kiss, like this.
His hand is barely out of hers when he's in front of her, lips meeting hers, his hand still against her face but sliding back, fingers curling in her hair, thumb brushing across her cheekbone. It's a tender, desperate I missed you kiss, and he's in no hurry to pull away from it, even though he knows he has to. Even though he knows that if there's any hope of preserving his relationship with her superhero seperate from her dorky partner, he has to pull away.
So it's hesitant that he does so, catching his breath, trying to still the racing of his heart.
Oh, that had been an awful idea, but it had been so worth it. She still tasted just the way he remembered.]
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It is, of course, how she knew it was him--and it's one more confirmation now, because that's him, his touch and his taste and his smell and his warmth and every other little detail she's memorized, that first told her who her hero was. But even after months dating him, of countless stolen kisses and a break-up they don't seem to be holding very well to, kissing him is still...
It's exhilarating, and thrilling, unbelievable and comforting all at once, and she leans up into that kiss with everything she has, to let him know she's there now.
She's heard, after all, that he's been here a while without her. It almost guarantees he's done something stupid.
She remains still and breathless for a moment after he pulls away, a smile forming on her lips. Lois doesn't even bother to try to hide it. Everything's gonna be okay now. Clark's here--and from that kiss? Definitely still hers. Finally she lays her head against his chest--so convenient, really--with her eyes still closed. She won't break that unless he seems to want her to.]
Y'know you're really lucky I don't consider that assault or something.
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Clark Kent is a very lucky man. What there is between us... It's the heat of the moment, that's all. I wouldn't want to see you hurt.
[His step away is overloud, and he tilts his head slightly.]
It's about time I introduce myself properly. It's been too long that you've known me as the Blur, Lois. My name is Kal-El, of Krypton--
[Deep breath. He switches on the light, his profile to Lois, and slowly turns toward her.]
--But you may call me Superman.
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No, really. She has no idea, but she definitely flinches visibly at the 'heat of the moment' comment, biting her lip to hold back the angry retort. It only works for a moment, though, before her natural reaction to being hurt returns--and unfortunately, Lois' fight-or-flight instinct is usually firmly set to 'fight.']
Guess you hadn't heard the latest on my assignment in Africa, then.
[It's not right, and she regrets it the minute she's said it, but... goddammit, Clark, that hurt like hell.
Her eyes were still closed, even before he moved away, and now that she can half see, half feel the light being on, she turns away sharply. It's one thing to know and to be gleefully keeping it secret; it's another that he's all but asking her to lie to his face about how well she knows him. And after that kiss--god, it hurts, and her voice isn't quite right. She wants to cry. Decision between being honest--it's not like he'll look any different--and giving him what he wants and maybe what he needs, but she doesn't know what that latter one is.
Whatever he said can wait.]
...You know I can't-- not see, if I turn around, right?
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And when she spins around like that he almost knows that she knows, and Bruce's words from the other night come back louder than ever:
She's the best investigative reporter living. The only reason why you had to tell her in your universe is because she was purposefully blinding herself to the truth.
So what makes you think that she doesn't already know?
She seems to survive just fine without making her voice crack, but she's lost her bluster, and...
And he can't do this to her.
His voice returns to normal, soft--Clark's voice. And he surrenders.]
I told you that you should go. It was the hardest thing that I've ever done.
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Oh god. She's not sure where they go from here.
And even now that it's out there, she's not sure she can turn around and face him right now.]
And yet it's still easier to do that, and to lie to my face when you know Zod's been playing me like a fiddle, and to ask me to pretend to be a blind idiot than it is to do something which might, just possibly, actually let either of us have a functional relationship for once in our lives!
[Because it only takes the once, if we're lucky. That... doesn't really translate well, though, does it.]
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[Kneel before Zod, Kal-El.]
I didn't want you to have to wait forever, not if I was never coming back. I wanted you to be happy.
[Where did they go from here? Damn it, she needed to look at him. If she just looked at him, it might stun her for a few seconds long enough to catch her off guard, but on the other hand it might not get all this out in the open. It'd sit, and stew, and be resentful and horrible.]
I still might die, Lois. I fell. I was stabbed, and I fell.
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[So maybe she's not maintaining quite as much of her equanimity as she'd like to believe. Nor is she quite sure how they went from being so goddamn happy to be together to her being tempted to throttle him in so little time.
Lois is pretty sure it has to be a new record for them or something.
And, in the spirit of people who don't say the things they should, Lois opts against telling him she knows about the fight--or the end of it, anyway--and about his fall, and the knife. But it's why, despite the sheer magnitude of the news, she takes almost no notice of that part of what he said.
Instead she just sink down onto the bench in the dugout and sighs, resting her head in her hands and rubbing her eyes. It's been a long day.]
Look. If we're going to have this fight, can we not do it in the sketchy field-side shelter?
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I had to save the world.
And he knows Lois. Saving the world isn't worth it if you hurt the ones you love in the process. But there's always been a bit of Clark - especially recently - that doesn't think he should be grounded. That thinks that if he really loved the people he said he did, he wouldn't be around them.
So he doesn't answer. Instead he steps forward, moving quietly to sit beside her, brushing his cape out of the way awkwardly.]
If I'd died...
[He'd been terrified. He hadn't slept. He'd sat up thinking about leaving, thinking about the book of Rao, dreaming of faraway, distant worlds--New Kandor. He'd had nightmares about Zod being left behind and turning Metropolis into the capital city of his worldwide dominion, with Lois at his side. He'd dreamt of him slaughtering the world's heroes.
It would have taken him a night to destroy the city he loved, and if he could have sent Lois to Egypt, far away from that danger--if he could have taken her to the moon, he would have. She'd just offered him such an open opportunity, at just the wrong time, when he was still overcome with his anxieties, and he'd panicked. He hadn't thought about how she'd feel, because it had been easy.
He swallowed, then bowed his own head.]
I'm sorry.
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Love, Lois decides, still sucks a little.
And it hurts, too, that Clark would do this--Clark, who knew better than anyone that she couldn't take being left behind again like Oliver had done. And she gets it, she does, that heroes sometimes need to have other priorities. She gets that there are things they have to do. It doesn't change the fact that he was willing to deliberately hurt her because he thought it was best for her.]
I would never have known. Do you really think anyone was ever going to tell me what happened?
[She doesn't know if he understands that's the worst part of it: the idea that he didn't even want her to be able to mourn.]
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[Someone would have told her. He has to believe that. But he can see why she's furious with him, and even if she said nothing he'd know. His eyes didn't rest, flickering back over her face, her shoulder, her hands, letting her lean against him.
After a moment he raises one hand, brushing it across the wound on her cheek, then brushing her hair back away from her face. He leans in to brush a kiss to her cheek.
There's a more important question in his mind now.]
When... When did you find out? [Had she always known? Had someone told her?]
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