Superman: Aftermath - Chapter 6
Title: Superman: Aftermath
Author: Saavikam77
Fandom: Superman Returns
Pairings: Lois/Richard, Clark/Lois
Rating - This Chapter: PG-13
Summary: In the days following the events of Superman Returns, both Clark and Lois are reeling from events that have changed their lives forever, and the city of Metropolis is in shambles. Things only get worse as Lois's relationship with Richard takes a nosedive, the US government wants to send a survey and potential mining mission to New Krypton, and vast amounts of kryptonite show up in the hands of criminals on the streets of Metropolis.
Chapter Summary: Clark turns in his article about his own visit to the Met U stadium the previous night. Later, revelations are made about the US government's intentions regarding New Krypton, and Lois finally confronts Superman with her little secret about Jason's infancy.
Chapter Word Count: 8,607
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan-fiction. Superman and the DC Comics universe are property of DC Comics and Warner Brothers. No money has been made or will be made from the production of this work. Darn it.
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Chapter 6
Stifling a yawn, Clark pulled the pages of his latest story from the printer on his desk. After his brief, and mostly uneventful trip around the globe the previous night, he'd come back to Lois's - no - his apartment, and written up an article on his own visit to the Met U stadium by hand before attempting to get some sleep in a bed that only wound up keeping him awake with memories of past nights spent there. Driven to distraction by simply being there, and feeling a little cranky for it, he'd headed into the office at about six thirty this morning, the early hour affording him time to type his article up without anyone noticing his inhumanly fast typing. With the final copy in his hands, he headed to Perry's office and handed it to the editor, who sat stoic behind his curved desk. “Here you go, Chief. Should be good for the afternoon edition,” he smiled crookedly.
Perry scanned the article, titled “Superman Visits Metropolis University Stadium, Calls On City To Lend A Hand,” and looked up from his desk at Clark, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “Huh. Garvin told me you got the exclusive, but I almost didn't believe him. Great job, Kent.”
“Thanks. I was lucky they called me. I passed it on to Jimmy, too, so he should have some―”
“Here, Chief, check it out!” the photographer beamed as he rushed in behind Clark and thrust three photos into the hands of the Planet editor, cutting the reporter off mid-sentence. “I got some fantastic shots of Superman's visit to the Met U Stadium last night. Really, I got about thirty really good ones, but these came out the best.”
Perry shuffled the photos: one of Superman talking to people in front of the stadium and two of the hero shaking hands with a ruffled looking woman in a Red Cross uniform. “These look good, Jimmy,” the editor offered. “Congrats, kid. With all the shots you've gotten over the past week, especially that one with the Planet globe, it looks like you might eventually be headed for a Pulitzer.”
“Yeah, mostly thanks to Mister Kent, here.” Jimmy patted Clark on the shoulder, grinning at him.
“Looks like we're finally getting back to some decent journalism around this place, between the three of you,” Perry nodded in agreement, waving a hand around to indicate the two younger men and Lois, still out in the newsroom.
“It really is almost like you never left, you know, Clark?” Jimmy said. “I mean, I really didn't think it was possible, what with Miss Lane engaged and all, cuz' she's changed, a lot, but I swear it's already just like it was back then.” He spread his hands out before him as if to visualize a scene, remembering the powerful mutualism the trio had cultivated over the course of two and a half years. “It's like, team Lane, Kent, and Olsen, back in business. And with Superman back, it's even better! Right, Clark?” he smirked, swatting the reporter's arm excitedly with the back of his hand.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Clark replied happily. He couldn't suppress a genuine smile at Jimmy's enthusiasm, knowing how the younger man's recent dry spell had led him to drinking in the middle of the day. If Clark hadn't been in the midst of drowning in his own self-pity that first day back at work, he probably would have tried to talk Jimmy out of that ill-fated trip to the Ace O' Clubs when it was barely noon. Now, thankfully, it didn't look like the photographer would be making any repeats of that day any time soon. Getting him working and helping him get some great shots seemed to have given Jimmy a huge boost.
“It is good to have you back, son,” Perry added, looking up from the photos and the article to give Clark a serious look.
“Thanks, Chief,” he replied, adjusting his glasses in a nervous gesture beneath the editor's oddly scrutinizing gaze. As he smiled crookedly, he noticed a news story beginning on the TV in the corner. “Oh, there it is,” he pointed, drawing Perry and Jimmy's attention, and the trio looked up at the screen, the young photographer seating himself in one of the large chairs and Clark shoving his hands down into his pockets.
Perry laid down the photos and remarked, “Looks like Teague Williams beat you to the punch.”
“...last night, when WGBS got the video exclusive of Superman visiting the Metropolis University Stadium.” The image of the newscaster gave way to a view of the stadium, focusing on the people still lined up on the sidewalk. “Our cameras arrived on the scene after Superman made his way through the stadium, speaking to many of the people who had been displaced by last week's earthquake.” The view switched to one of Superman talking to several people in line in front of the stadium, leaning in to show his interest in their stories, shaking their hands, telling them that everything would be okay. The camera caught his intent, concerned gaze as he listened to them, the hint of sadness in his unearthly eyes, and captured the relieved looks the people returned, their expressions of “thank you,” even the tears running down some of their cheeks. “Superman was kind enough to grant our very own Marissa Baxter a brief interview during his visit.”
The view once again changed, to show Superman standing next to, and towering over, a dark-haired woman in a Red Cross uniform, who sported a look of relieved exhaustion. The field reporter stood to the right of Superman, a microphone in her hand, held high to make sure to get Superman's every word. “I'm here at the Metropolis University Stadium with one of the Red Cross coordinators, Miss Angela Taylor, and with the Man of Steel himself, Superman,” she said, nearly bubbling over with excitement. “Sir, what prompted your visit to the shelter this evening?” she asked him, ignoring the other woman.
“Well,” he began, his voice warm and even, “I heard how many people were displaced by damages caused by the earthquake last week, and I had to come and see what I could do to help. Miss Taylor―” he nodded to the woman on his left, “was kind enough to fill me in on everything that's been happening here. Most people are here either because of broken gas lines or water pipes, or because of structural damages to their homes. Many of them have no home to return to at all. I would like to take this opportunity to ask the citizens of Metropolis to help these people.” He looked directly into the camera. “They have no place to go, and they need you. Please, if you have room, open your home to someone here.” He laid a hand on the dark-haired woman's shoulder gently, “The Red Cross needs your help, too, both in the way of donations and volunteers. They can't do this alone. Only by standing together can the city of Metropolis hope to fix this unfortunate situation.”
“Superman, this is your first live interview after returning to Metropolis last week, can you tell us why?” the reporter asked, changing the subject.
A look of slight confusion passed over Superman's face at the irrelevant question, and he crossed his arms in front of him. “As you can tell, I've been pretty busy since I got back. I think helping the city is more important than talking about myself. I'll continue to do everything I can to help. Thank you.” With that, he turned, waved to everyone, and took to the sky, his dark red cape fluttering behind him as he ascended into the darkness.
“There you have it, folks!” the reporter concluded. “Superman has made a request of the people of Metropolis. Open your hearts and your homes to the people here at the stadium, and if you can afford it, the Red Cross could certainly use your donations of time and money. I'm Marissa Baxter, WGBS News.”
The view returned to the newscaster in the studio. “Within an hour after we first broke this story last night, calls began flooding into the station offering temporary homes for many of the citizens at the Met U Stadium, including an offer from the Metropolis Hyatt Hotel of two hundred unbooked rooms for the next week free of charge. In addition, when it was learned that no federal aid had yet been allocated for this disaster, an unbelievably generous donation to the city was made by Gotham based Wayne Enterprises in the amount of five hundred million dollars.”
Relief flooded Clark at the last piece of news and he felt his knees go momentarily weak. His old acquaintance had come through to help in the one way he couldn't: financially. Thanks, Bruce...
At some point during the broadcast Lois had come in to the office to stand behind Jimmy. When the broadcast ended, she shook her head, “Huh. Go figure,” startling the photographer nearly out of his seat.
* * * * *
Richard White emptied the last of the Kung Pao chicken onto his rice and attacked it with his chop sticks, knowing his guts would pay for it later. Another late evening at the Planet, another quick meal from a questionable Chinese place. He just couldn't do to stay on a normal diet anymore, and could count on one hand the number of times he'd actually eaten at home in the last ten days. It seemed like Jason was the only one in the family who ate right, but of course that was only due to his innumerable food allergies. Wheat, shellfish, eggs, milk, you name it, the poor kid was allergic to it. They could literally take no chances with what he ate. Tonight the gang dined on sloppy Chinese food, while Jason was rewarded with vegetarian couscous, rice noodles, and soy-milk. An eclectic meal at best, but a far cry better than the fireball of leftover chicken scraps Richard was forcing down. He wondered why he even bothered with it.
“Are there any pot stickers left?” Lois asked, rummaging through the cartons they had spread over the conference room table.
“There should be,” Richard replied, glancing up from his food. “I only had one. Jimmy had two.”
“Here,” Jimmy said from the other end of the table, pointing out the right carton.
Lois found the errant pot stickers and slid two of the remaining three onto her paper plate. “Gotcha,” she declared, then plopped back into her chair to gulp them down and continue working on her laptop. Out of the group, only Lois had chosen to continue working through dinner.
She didn't bother to look up when Clark came into the conference room a few minutes later, finally back from a visit to S.T.A.R. Labs. “Hey, guys,” he said as he entered, giving a dorky wave and quirky smile.
“Hi, Clark!” Jason smiled up at him from the other side of the table.
Clark returned his grin readily. “Hey, Jason. What did you learn in school today?”
“We learned about volcanoes,” the boy replied before shoving a forkful of couscous into his mouth.
Jimmy added, “Jason's first ever science project this year is going to be a mock-up of a volcano. I'm gonna help him build it. Right, buddy?”
The little boy nodded vigorously as he chewed.
“That's great,” Clark beamed. Finding a seat, he laid a manila envelope on the table and began to dig through what was left of the food, then turned his attention to the adults in the room. “What did I miss?”
“Not too much,” Richard answered him. “Lois is finishing up an article on the police 'findings' at the Vanderworth estate and the hunt for Luthor for tomorrow's edition, Jimmy's working up a few last minute photos for the same, and I'm up to my eyeballs in international speculation as to whether or not the Man of Steel is a Communist.”
Clark gulped down a mouthful of shrimp fried rice, his eyes wide. “A Communist?” he questioned. “That's a new twist.”
“Oh, I seem to remember there was some of the same speculation back in ninety-nine, but it's just one of those rumors that won't seem to die. It's the stuff that controversy's built on,” the other man expanded.
“Don't forget the UN wants to bring Luthor to trial before an international tribunal,” Olsen put in as he dug through a carton for more sweet and sour pork.
“That, too,” replied Richard. “They made the statement about an hour ago. Lois is having to rewrite half her article for it.” That garnered only a quick nod from Lois, who went on typing madly on her laptop, her eyes focused behind her glasses.
“Hmm,” Clark said, narrowing his eyes. “Hey, did Helen Daniels manage to get any answers about federal aid for Metropolis today?”
The assistant editor shook his head. “No such luck. The president just kept going on about how Metropolis needed to band together, and with help like that donation from Wayne Enterprises, there should be no problem getting the city back to normal. It's the same garbage he fed southern California after Maureen, not that anyone should be surprised.”
Clark felt heart sick at that. When did politicians become so indifferent in this country? he thought sadly. “I guess the city's just going to have to fend for itself, then?”
“Pretty much.”
“Huh.” Taking another bite of his rice, he tried not to let a certain sense of guilt creep up on him over that news, but then he remembered why he'd come into the conference room in the first place. He swallowed quickly. “Oh, Lois, here's what I got from S.T.A.R. Labs,” he said, pushing the envelope toward her over the table.
This was enough to pull her attention away from the computer screen. “What is it?” She opened the envelope, removed several papers, and began to scan them quickly. “Geez, Clark! Is this on the record?” Her eyes grew wider as she read.
“Mm-hmm,” he nodded. “We can take it to print any time.”
“Damn. Uh, I mean, darn,” she said, correcting herself not quite quickly enough as her eyes briefly flitted over to her small son.
Jason smiled wryly. “Mommy, you said a swear,” he giggled.
“Sorry,” she apologized, her eyes fixed on the papers from the lab.
“What is it?” Richard asked, curious.
Clark started, “You know how they discovered the signal being sent by the crystals Luthor grew?”
Richard nodded.
“Well, Superman dropped into S.T.A.R. earlier today and was able to help them decode the signal. The code itself is superficially similar to both binary and Morse code, but a heck of a lot more complex beneath the surface. Apparently it took Superman almost an hour to puzzle out the algorithm, you know, not having... access... to his own technology, since Luthor stole it,” he explained, beginning to fidget at the too-honest admission. “I guess it wasn't quite like anything he'd really seen before. Anyway, just like we thought, the message is a distress signal. It's a call for help, that something's gone terribly wrong with the implementation of the technology, that it might have fallen into the wrong hands. Superman supposed it was designed to alert Krypton so they could act to correct the situation―”
“Which is exactly what we figured,” Lois cut in, looking up from the printouts.
“Right,” he confirmed. “Looks like we were right about everything. He said he didn't have any proof, but that aspect of the technology was probably designed for use off-world, for colonization. He'd never seen any mention of that kind of a fail-safe mechanism in any of the historical records he had from Krypton.”
“But there aren't any colonies out there,” Lois interjected.
“That we know of,” Clark added reluctantly, still feeling the same sense of dread that had filled him when they had spoken with Hamilton about the signal two days ago.
Richard sat straight up in his chair. “Um, you two might not want to print that just yet,” he said cautiously.
“Why not?” Lois asked, her brow furrowed at the suggestion.
“Well, after Daniels stirred up the president's nonchalant reaction to federal aid for Metropolis, she managed to weasel out of him that the government is considering sending a survey mission to New Krypton, with the intent of eventually mining it. He didn't say for what, but I think the mere idea speaks for itself.”
Clark felt a chill run down his spine in shock. “What?” he asked, wide-eyed as he struggled to keep his composure, knowing that no good could possibly come of a mission to New Krypton. The sheer amount of kryptonite alone...
“Depending on the international reaction, if they get the support for this, it's possible an initial survey mission could go up in a few months, maybe sooner.”
Lois jumped in, “So, what? Do we sit on this and wait to see if anything responds to the signal or not? Let the government decide to send up a mission and see what happens?”
“The last time information was withheld from the government it got us into a war,” Jimmy added. “Lois is right. We should put it all out there.”
“I don't know,” Clark responded. “If we put this out, they might panic and decide to send up a mission without thinking it through.”
Richard held up a hand to interject. “Or they might decide to scrap the idea altogether. Maybe decide to destroy New Krypton instead.”
“But that could leave dangerous amounts of kryptonite floating around in orbit,” Lois retorted. “No, we've got to print this. We've got to print everything we have. That's what we're here for, isn't it? To print the truth, all of it?” She looked from Clark to Richard and back, a look of determination on her face. “At the very least, it'll prompt them to find Luthor faster. He is responsible for this mess, after all.”
Richard gazed at his fiancée. Sometimes she reminded him of a locomotive, barreling forward at full speed with no signs of stopping or slowing down. It scared him a little. “Okay, then. Think you can get it ready for the morning edition, Clark? Got about two hours till final deadline.”
Clark hesitated, still unsure whether printing the story was such a great idea in the face of a possible mission to New Krypton. But the look in Lois's eyes... she would not be dissuaded. Her sheer will in the face of terrible odds was one of the things he had always loved about her. “Um, yeah, no problem,” he nodded.
“Great. I'll go talk to Jennifer in Layout and get her to put a hold on the front page, and I'll let the Copy Desk know to wait for your article. Jimmy see if you can find some stock photos of S.T.A.R. Labs. We'll need to reuse that shot of New Krypton, too.”
“Gotcha,” the photographer replied, and the group set back to work, leaving the rest of the Chinese food untouched.
* * * * *
An hour later, Richard decided it was time to take the munchkin home for the night, since his work for the day was complete, and Lois was nearly finished with her Luthor article. He bundled the boy up and gathered his own things before heading to the elevators. “Lois, can we talk for a second?” he said, motioning for her to walk them out, and leaving Clark alone, working busily in the conference room on a company laptop.
“Sure,” she replied, and got up to follow them, passing the few other stragglers from the day shift and the incoming night staff.
Once outside the doors to the bullpen, Richard began, “So, you and Clark have been working pretty closely the last few days.”
“Yeah, why, is that odd?” she replied.
“No, no. It's just, you never mentioned Clark much before he got back, but it seems like you two were a pretty good team.” Richard hoisted Jason onto his hip, backpack and all, and the little boy laid his head on his dad's shoulder, his eyes drooping with exhaustion.
“I suppose. We were pretty good friends back then, but after he left, I dunno, I never saw any reason to talk about it.” Lois felt like she was holding something back, however. Why hadn't she ever mentioned Clark? He had been an understanding friend and she'd missed his company terribly. Smiling forcibly, she mentally shrugged it off.
“Okay. I just wanted to ask. You've been working some pretty serious hours lately, and I just want to make sure you're all right, since everything got so crazy around here.” He looked into her eyes as if to say “Please take a break from this. We need you.”
“I'm fine, Richard,” she smirked, ignoring his gaze and rolling her eyes. “I'm in good hands with Clark.” She knew Richard still wanted her to lay off of some of the stories she and Clark had been chasing, but four shared bylines in two days? It was almost too good to be true! Too bad her fiancé saw it differently, though. He wanted her to slow down, take a breather, come home for a while. But she just couldn't do that yet. Once she smelled news, she would pursue it to its natural conclusion, and with Luthor still out there... No. Now was not the time to be sleeping on the job.
Looking at her little boy, however, challenged her determination in a fundamental way, filling her with regret that she wasn't spending the kind of time with him that she needed to, that she so desperately wanted to. Lately she'd felt the pull to keep an eye on him every minute, with the possibility of such important changes looming on the horizon for him in light of the incident aboard the Gertrude. The prospect of Jason manifesting some incredible power when she wasn't there left her with an uneasy, slightly panicked feeling. She couldn't stand the thought that he might be discovered now, after all she'd done and gone through to protect him. But Luthor... She knew none of them were safe as long as he was still unaccounted for. And that meant work.
Sweeping an errant lock of hair back from her son's face, she continued, “I should be done here in another hour or so. Be home just in time to tuck you into bed, little mister.” She kissed the boy on his cheek, getting a faint, sweet smile from him in return, and to Richard, she concluded, “Don't worry so much. Things will settle down a bit after this week.” At least, she hoped it would. She really hadn't pushed herself this much since the mess in the middle east had heated up a few years earlier.
Her fiancé nodded in reply, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Lois looked into his light eyes, hoping to find the connection she'd always felt there, the feeling of encouragement and shared strength. It was still there, but somehow weaker, as if something was missing, or changed. She couldn't put her finger on it, but had plenty of suspicions. Maybe the work overload was getting to her more than she wanted to admit. Maybe Richard still wondered about her past with a certain man in blue tights. She was too tired to think about it. Neither of them had forgotten the conversation they'd had on Monday; it almost seemed to be lingering between them.
“I love you, Richard.”
“I love you, too, Lois.” They kissed briefly, then parted.
Lois didn't bother to wait while her fiancé boarded the elevator with her son to head out.
* * * * *
Back in the conference room, Clark looked up when she entered and reclaimed her seat. He noticed the same tell-tale signs that he'd seen on Monday morning that said she'd been working too hard: slightly drooping eyes, sallow cheeks, chewed fingernails. She looked so unbelievably tired, but threw herself back into finishing her story, her eyes set with determination. Sighing to himself, he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised; he'd started them on the investigation into Luthor, and had willingly let her swing them between two sets of stories for the last four days.
After another twenty minutes of working in silence, she pushed back from the table and threw up her hands in exhausted triumph. “Finished,” she proclaimed. “Finally.” She pulled off her glasses and rubbed at her eyes with a groan, then looked over at Clark. “I'm going to get some fresh air, then we can finish up the New Krypton story, get these printed and sent to copy, and get the hell out of here for the night.”
Clark nodded, “Okay,” and watched her grab her purse and coat to go take the elevator up to the roof. After a long moment of indecision, he followed.
* * * * *
On the dimly lit observation deck of the Daily Planet building, shadowed in the absence of the famous globe, Lois stared out at the sparkling Metropolis night and scratched absently at the nicotine patch she had placed on her shoulder that morning. Trying desperately to quit smoking, again, she had to fight the urge to light up, the urge to put a cigarette between her lips, to flick her lighter and inhale, to feel the calming rush as the smoke flowed down into her lungs. God, it would feel so good! she whimpered to herself, feeling the pull to take the edge off of everything. Anything to ease the anxiety that had refused to give her a moment's peace in almost two weeks...
Physically shaking herself, she begrudgingly summoned the determination to not give into the temptation. She'd gotten this far, after all. And besides, what would he say?
Oh, please! she grumbled. I could care less about his opinion.
A nagging part of her brain protested that thought, and though she tried to stomp it down with the foot of “Mad Dog Lane”, the notion that maybe she did care what he thought began to nibble at the edges of her mind.
Damn him.
Of course, that would explain why she kept finding herself taking the elevator to the roof at odd intervals, standing at the ledge and staring out at the broken city, her stomach drawn up in knots. How many times this week had it been already? Three? Four? And all for what? To wait to see if he showed up? She felt like a mooning schoolgirl at the very notion. After all this time, after everything, and she still blindly followed her compulsion to seek him out.
No... she knew it was more than that. It wasn't lovesick teenage angst that compelled her anymore. As much as parts of her screamed to see him again, to feel his arms around her and... No!!! There were more important things, more important people to consider. And he had no right to upset that.
Her mind shot to the tiny box sitting in her coat pocket, as it had for the past three days. She needed to tell him... everything. About Jason, about Richard, about what happened aboard the Gertrude... And she wanted... she wasn't sure what she wanted. Maybe to put her feelings for him to rest. Maybe she just hoped - the idea flipped her stomach in a way she didn't like at all - to find some reason to change her mind about everything. To forgive him for leaving her when she had needed him so badly, when their son had needed him.
Still staring out at the glittering skyline and listening to the city below her as she leaned against the concrete ledge with her palms, she was dismayed to find herself unable to focus her thoughts on something, anything, other than him. Maybe Richard had been right, she thought with a bitter chuckle, maybe she shouldn't have been working on all these stories that were so closely tied to Superman. The hunt for Luthor, the police investigation at the Vanderworth estate, the crystals... What the hell had she expected? She had thrown herself into the work and, with no regard for the people around her, had taken her family and colleagues along for the ride. And just where had it gotten her? For all her forceful suppression of whatever feelings his return had brought back, for all the denial she had heaped on top of it all, the whole mess refused to stay buried. It just sat there, right beneath her skin, right beneath the surface of every thought and action. Even trying to distract herself with working with Clark again hadn't really helped.
Well, maybe it had helped a little - okay, a lot - but still not enough to stop his voice from echoing in her mind. “Will you come with me? ...Please.” How could she still hear him so clearly? What the hell is wrong with me? she asked herself, frustrated.
Lois hugged her coat tighter around herself in the chilly October air. If this weather held, soon she would have to stop venturing out onto the roof. The thought sent a pang of anxiety stabbing through her already knotted gut, only leaving her more furious.
“A little cold out to be on the roof, isn't it, Lois?” a warm, firm voice said from behind her, startling her out of her reverie. Her stomach flipped and her pulse quickened involuntarily as she turned to see him descending from the sky toward her, landing softly on the concrete rooftop.
“Where have you been?” she demanded coldly, although she knew perfectly well how busy he had been. Crossing her arms in front of her, she shot him a daggered gaze in defiance of her own traitorous reaction to seeing him for the first time in almost a week.
“Around,” he replied softly in that deep timbre that never failed to turn her bones to jell-o. “I'm sorry I haven't stopped by, Lois. I thought you needed some time and space. I... don't want to intrude.”
“You're not intruding,” she was quick to assure him, but then mentally kicked herself; it wasn't like he was going to fly off and not come back. He wasn't some flighty bird, no matter how much his track record seemed to prove the opposite. She shook her head and continued, trying to keep her voice even, “Look, I'm not going to let my life change just because you're here, but you are here, and there's a lot that I have to tell you. So much that...” She trailed off, exhaling heavily and shaking her head again.
Standing a safe distance from her, Clark took a deep breath, anxiety pumping adrenaline all the way to his toes. “Tell me,” he said quietly, his eyes focused intently on her as he hoped coming up here to talk to her wasn't as bad an idea as it still seemed.
“Well...” she began, trying not to rush into the subject of their son too soon. Best to start with a less dangerous topic. “I suppose you know all about Luthor's little experiment at the Vanderworth estate. I heard you were at S.T.A.R. Labs today; they probably filled you in on everything.”
Clark blinked a few times, not having expected to discuss work topics. He'd thought... But he shook it off, trying to collect himself. “Yes,” he replied after a moment. “I decoded the crystal signal for them. It's meant to be a distress call for Krypton.”
“So I gathered. Look, I don't know if this will help, or if there's anything you can do with it, but I took this from the Vanderworth house.” Lois reached into her purse and withdrew the first crystal she had snapped off of mini-New Krypton. She had to force her hand to steady as she outstretched her arm to hand it to him.
“Thank you,” he replied quietly, stepping closer, his own hand outstretched.
As he accepted the crystal from her, the barest brush of her fingertips with his own sent a jolt of electricity up her arm, and she barely managed to suppress a shiver. Damn it! she cursed herself, watching him tuck the crystal away into what she supposed was a hidden pocket in his cape.
“There's something else you need to know before you print whatever story it is you've planned about this,” he said intently, knowing he had to tell her about whatever it was his ship had encountered in space. If anything, that knowledge might help inform their story on the signal, since he couldn't have mentioned it as “Clark”. Slowly, he stepped closer yet, breathing evenly and trying to keep his composure as he kept his gaze locked on hers.
Looking up into his blue eyes - no, they were sapphire, she decided, with the way the city lights seem to reflect in them against the dim light of the rooftop - she cocked her head to the side, curious. “What?”
“When I left Krypton, what was left of it, there was something―” He paused, clenching his jaw and making the muscle in his cheek jump. “I'm not sure what it was, but it set off an alarm on my ship. I didn't remember it until a few days ago, because I was sick - with kryptonite poisoning - when I was in Krypton's space. I passed out in the stasis chamber before I could find out what it was.” He squeezed his eyes shut and breathed out slowly, turning his head away from her, “Something is out there, Lois. It might be something that could respond to this signal.”
“You were sick?” she said suddenly, her eyes narrowing and her chest constricting with the same fierce urge to protect him that she had felt when they pulled him, unconscious, from the water in the Atlantic. “Why didn't you tell me? What happened?” She laid a hand on his bicep, clasping gently.
Surprised at her concerned gesture as he felt the fiery strength of her touch, Clark sucked in a breath, his eyes popping open and his mouth gaping as he turned his face back to her. A voice at the edge of his thoughts wondered again whether it was such a good idea to have come up here; they were too close, it was almost too much for him to process. Schooling his expression, he shook his head and tried to explain. “What was left of the planet was permeated by kryptonite. I was so eager to see Krypton that I hadn't bothered to look for it,” he said ruefully, honestly. “When I finally felt the effects, I could barely get my ship out. It was so stupid.” He paused, his eyes focusing far beyond her. “I was a fool for going there.”
“No, you weren't,” Lois corrected him as a thought occurred to her. Though she really wanted to tell him he should never have left Earth, should never have left her, she knew the spiteful impulse wouldn't accomplish anything. “No one gave you any reason not to go,” she finished in a small voice, then paused for a long moment.
He only stared down at her, his eyes piercing hers.
Lois let her hand slip down from his arm and tried to shrug off their eye contact, not sure it was a connection she wanted to make... yet... if at all. She crossed her arms over her chest again. “So your ship detected something out in space,” she said, returning again to safer territory. “Do you have any way to find out what it was? Did your ship have any sort of computer memory?”
Clark blinked heavily as she seemed to close herself off from him, avoiding the discussion they really needed to have. “I - It should,” he answered her finally, his eyes narrowed. He hadn't thought about the crystal star's computer, but it would have a complete log of the journey, hopefully still intact after his disastrous landing at the farm. He would have to take the time to dig it back up, not that that would take long. “I'll check,” he promised, “and I'll let you know if I find anything.”
“Good,” Lois said, tipping her chin up in a decisive nod. But just when she felt she'd put a little bit of distance between them, she knew it wasn't going to last. Turning away to look out over the city, she took a deep breath. It was definitely turning into one of those conversations...
“There are some things you need to know about Jason,” she said after a long moment of strained silence. “You deserve to know everything.”
Clark's pulse began to hammer in his ears as his stomach twisted, and all he could do was look at her, wide-eyed and expectant, waiting to hear whatever she had to say as she turned back to face him.
Their eyes met again and she said slowly, “When you disappeared... When you left, I - I already knew.”
Taking another surprised breath, he felt his blood run instantly cold. She had already known. If he had told her goodbye, she might have told him she was pregnant, and he would have stayed. No questions. He would have changed his mind about going to Krypton in an instant. She already knew... With his brow furrowed, he clenched his jaw and let Lois continue.
“I knew two weeks before you left, in fact.” Her expression seemed to grow colder, and he could tell it was difficult for her to talk about, listening to her heart thundering inside her chest. “I didn't want to tell you yet, because I knew how hard it would have been. I didn't want to... complicate things.” Lois turned away from him again, all the leftover bitterness at his disappearance sweeping back through her as if it had only happened yesterday. “And then you were just gone. I had no choice but to move on without you. To raise our son, without you,” she spat.
Clark could only imagine how awful it had been for her, and another twist of guilt wrung his guts out thoroughly. Taking a step closer to her, he touched her shoulder lightly to prompt her to turn to face him again. “You should have told me,” he said, frowning. “I wish you had told me. I would never have gone.” He wasn't entirely sure his voice didn't shake with his declaration. “I wouldn't have even considered it, Lois.”
Lois pulled away and walked to the other side of the observation deck, not wanting to let him be so near her. Her heels clacked on the concrete in the silence that separated them and she hugged herself against the chilly air. “How many times do you think I told myself that? But it was a little late for reconsideration once you were gone. I didn't know where you were, what had happened to you. Suddenly I had a child to worry about, and I didn't even know if he was going to―”
“Survive?” Clark finished her thought. Until six days ago he'd had no idea that the human and Kryptonian genomes were even compatible, much less close enough to produce healthy children. She nodded in confirmation, and they stood silently for a moment. “He's beautiful, Lois. He definitely takes after you.”
She closed her eyes briefly, then looked away, as if into the past, “You should have seen him when...” A lump grew in her throat as she realized the man standing across from her didn't even know his son's birthday. “He was born on August 7th, almost two months early, and... and he was so tiny, there were so many wires and tubes. I didn't even get to hold him for two weeks.” She blinked hard to try to stop the tears she knew would come if she thought about it any more. “If you'd only been there...”
Seeing her eyes beginning to glisten, he started to move forward, wanting only to comfort her, but some fearful inertia stopped him; did she even want to be comforted by him? After he'd left her to face that nightmare alone? He was gone when she had needed him most, when his son had needed him. Part of him suddenly wanted to hit something very hard, to just cut loose and obliterate something with his frustration, but all he could do was stand there with Lois and wait for her to tell him more.
As she swiped a hand over her cheek to stop a tear in its course, she continued, her voice more cold and spiteful. “If Richard, at least, hadn't been there, I don't know what I would have done.”
Clark's gut tried to strangle itself at her verbal slap, and his mother's words floated on his memory, “...she had to find someone else to take on your responsibility.”
“He knew I was already pregnant when we met, but he didn't care. He wanted to be with me, and he wanted to be Jason's father. So he was. His name is even on Jason's birth certificate.” But she felt a twinge of guilt at the suddenly pained look on Ka - his face, despite the even measure of satisfaction that surged up in her chest. By all rights he deserved to feel as bad about everything as she did, but... she hadn't given him any reason to stay when she'd had the chance. She knew that. It was her own damned fault.
But there was still more to tell, and spiteful remarks weren't going to get it all out into the open. Turning away again, she said, “Richard doesn't know Jason is yours. He doesn't really know about us, either.”
The knots in Clark's gut tightened a little more and for a moment, he felt like he couldn't breathe. After overhearing - seeing - Lois tell Richard she hadn't been in love with him before, he'd been forced to wonder whether she was lying to Richard, or whether she really hadn't ever loved him. Either way, the words had hurt. And now... now he at least knew that it was the former that was true, and not the latter. Their tense dance here on the rooftop should have been clue enough of that, if not her confession nearly a week ago that Jason was his.
But that didn't leave him with much hope yet, either. All it said was that there was a rift between Lois and Richard, which very closely resembled his own image. Clark didn't want to come between them, but at the same time, he couldn't fault Richard for having suspicions and feeling threatened.
“Richard doesn't like me very much,” he offered, hoping to learn more.
“No,” Lois shook her head, still looking out over the city. “He likes you just fine. He's grateful you were there to save us―” she paused, “when he couldn't.” Lois turned back abruptly, whipping her dark hair around, tears gleaming in her eyes. “I wasn't supposed to need you anymore! Not for anything. Richard and I have managed to raise Jason quite well without you. I managed quite well without you.”
She looked away briefly, feeling like an idiot for letting him get to her, for not corking her goddamn big mouth. How the hell was she supposed to get through this conversation if she kept throwing everything back in his face?
Stepping slightly closer, Clark frowned, his eyebrows knitted together. “I'm sorry, Lois,” he whispered.
She only shook her head, rolling her eyes angrily and pressing her lips together tightly. Finally, after a long, uncomfortable moment, she met his eyes. “You have absolutely no idea what I went through with Jason. Can you possibly imagine having to keep the world from finding out that your son isn't exactly completely human?”
Clark winced, thinking of his own mother briefly.
“He was... he was connected to all those damn machines, poked and prodded endlessly for weeks... and there was nothing I could do about it, because he needed it! I lived in abject terror for months that they were going to figure out he was different. I hardly slept that entire time, thinking they were going to take him away, that they would experiment on him or cut him up, like one of those damned 'Alien Autopsy' videos. After we brought him home... he was so strong already! And I―” Her breath caught in her throat as she realized this was the moment of total truth, and she forced her voice calm as she slipped her hand into her coat pocket, fingers closing around the tiny box. “I lost it. I didn't know what else to do. I... I did what I thought I had to, to make him normal.” Her chin began to quiver as she felt adrenaline rushing through her at her admission.
Clark's mind was trying to catch up with everything she was saying. It made sense; he'd lived with the same fear as a child, thinking some government organization was going to come take him away and dissect him like some specimen, but... something seemed really wrong with where this conversation was going. “Lois, what did you do?” he asked carefully, the small hairs on the back of his neck standing on end with his fear.
Pulling the little black box from her pocket, she held it before her, her face a mixture of fear and regret. Clark could see her hand shaking, even worse than when she'd handed him the crystal. “I - I―” was all she could get out as a terrified knot formed in her throat.
Closing the distance between them on the roof, Clark took the box from her, and slowly, he flipped the lid back.
When the faint wave of pain hit him square in the face, hands, and chest from the glowing green stone, he recoiled instantly, snapping the box shut. Oh, God, no... His face scrunched up in total confusion as he felt the world turn upside down. What had she done? “Lois?” he breathed, “Why?”
She shook her head sadly, swallowing down the knot. “I told you... I lost it. He is my life; I would have done anything to protect him... and―” She blinked hard. “I didn't have any idea he would get sick like he did. It was just a tiny piece. I thought... maybe... it would keep him from getting stronger, from doing all the things you can do... but he just got sick. So I put it away, and didn't open that box again until three days ago.”
Clark studied the small box in his hand, the full picture emerging in his mind. His son had been poisoned by this single, minuscule piece of kryptonite, his little body unable to fix itself. He remembered the sickness he had felt looking up at the tower of Sor-El as the deadly veins of kryptonite glowed from the cracks in the structure. He remembered the exhaustion that overtook him after fighting to rid Earth of New Krypton. Had his son felt that same pain and exhaustion? Struggling to keep calm, he choked, “How long? How long was he... exposed?” The word tasted bitter on his tongue, the same urge to decimate something in frustration nearly overwhelming him.
“Only a day,” she said, her voice very small and her eyes pleading with him for forgiveness.
He nodded, feeling his heart constricting further with grief. As much as he wanted to be angry with her, to be furious with her, he just couldn't; it was his fault. All of it. “Y - you have to destroy this,” he finally said, his voice barely wavering with emotion.
“I know,” she replied slowly as she took the box back from him, slipping it out of his fingers easily. Returning it to her pocket, she looked up at him and let out a small sigh, almost frosty in the cold air. “He's more like you than you know. He... did something...”
Clark raised his eyebrows, his stomach leaping. “What?”
“He - Jason saved my life when we were on Luthor's yacht.”
A small tingle of excitement worked its way up his back at the implication; his son may yet have hope. “How?”
“One of Luthor's men was going to kill me. Jason threw a piano at him.” Lois nearly beamed with pride through what was left of her tears.
“A piano?” Clark asked, confused.
She nodded. “It was in the main cabin of the yacht. I told him to play it... to keep him calm, and to distract Luthor's thug so I could send a fax for help. The thug saw what I was doing, and... Jason just... threw the piano.” Tears began to run down her cheeks in earnest. “I don't think he had any idea what he was doing; he didn't mean to kill the guy... he just wanted to save me. He... he's just like you! He's your son, and I can't deny him that.” Everything that Lois had been bottling up for the past week and a half seemed to erupt at once, and she simply let go and sobbed.
Clark's heart ripped to shreds at the thought of that beautiful little boy being forced to take a life to save his mother's, at the sight of Lois in tears, and he couldn't allow himself to just stand by any more and watch her cry. Two steps brought him to her, and he drew her up in a warm embrace, hoping against hope that he could comfort her, take away all the pain and fear his absence had caused. “Thank you, Lois,” he breathed into her soft hair, holding her close as her petite body shook with her sobs.
Burying her face in his chest, she wept openly, furious that she couldn't control herself anymore, that - once again - it was him that seemed to be coming to her aid. “Dammit, Kal―” she cried, barely catching herself before she could let his name pass her lips. No, you're not allowed that luxury! Not yet. With a wail, she raised a fist and punched his chest weakly. “Dammit.”
Still holding her, Clark felt his knees go weak at the near-utterance of his name. The last time she'd said it was... too long ago. Far too long ago. “I'm sorry,” he said, the default apology slipping from him automatically.
“Just tell me he'll be okay. Tell me Jason will be fine,” she demanded, her voice exhausted.
“I... I don't know,” Clark replied honestly.
They stood there for a long time as Lois's sobs quieted to heavy breaths, neither wanting to let go. After what felt like hours of just clinging to each other in the face of an uncertain future, a low rumble from somewhere in the city caught Clark's attention. Lois's head snapped up as she heard it, too.
They looked into each other's eyes once again. “I have to go,” he told her as he brought a hand up to gently wipe some of the tears from her face.
Fighting the urge to lean into his touch, she whispered, “I know.”
Clark let go of her slowly and stepped back, not wanting to leave her. “I'll come see you and Jason in a few days,” he promised.
With a faint smile, Lois called after him as he rose to the sky, “Good night.”
Looking back, he replied, “Good night, Lois,” before speeding away toward the source of the rumble.
* * * * *
Author: Saavikam77
Fandom: Superman Returns
Pairings: Lois/Richard, Clark/Lois
Rating - This Chapter: PG-13
Summary: In the days following the events of Superman Returns, both Clark and Lois are reeling from events that have changed their lives forever, and the city of Metropolis is in shambles. Things only get worse as Lois's relationship with Richard takes a nosedive, the US government wants to send a survey and potential mining mission to New Krypton, and vast amounts of kryptonite show up in the hands of criminals on the streets of Metropolis.
Chapter Summary: Clark turns in his article about his own visit to the Met U stadium the previous night. Later, revelations are made about the US government's intentions regarding New Krypton, and Lois finally confronts Superman with her little secret about Jason's infancy.
Chapter Word Count: 8,607
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan-fiction. Superman and the DC Comics universe are property of DC Comics and Warner Brothers. No money has been made or will be made from the production of this work. Darn it.
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Chapter 6
Stifling a yawn, Clark pulled the pages of his latest story from the printer on his desk. After his brief, and mostly uneventful trip around the globe the previous night, he'd come back to Lois's - no - his apartment, and written up an article on his own visit to the Met U stadium by hand before attempting to get some sleep in a bed that only wound up keeping him awake with memories of past nights spent there. Driven to distraction by simply being there, and feeling a little cranky for it, he'd headed into the office at about six thirty this morning, the early hour affording him time to type his article up without anyone noticing his inhumanly fast typing. With the final copy in his hands, he headed to Perry's office and handed it to the editor, who sat stoic behind his curved desk. “Here you go, Chief. Should be good for the afternoon edition,” he smiled crookedly.
Perry scanned the article, titled “Superman Visits Metropolis University Stadium, Calls On City To Lend A Hand,” and looked up from his desk at Clark, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “Huh. Garvin told me you got the exclusive, but I almost didn't believe him. Great job, Kent.”
“Thanks. I was lucky they called me. I passed it on to Jimmy, too, so he should have some―”
“Here, Chief, check it out!” the photographer beamed as he rushed in behind Clark and thrust three photos into the hands of the Planet editor, cutting the reporter off mid-sentence. “I got some fantastic shots of Superman's visit to the Met U Stadium last night. Really, I got about thirty really good ones, but these came out the best.”
Perry shuffled the photos: one of Superman talking to people in front of the stadium and two of the hero shaking hands with a ruffled looking woman in a Red Cross uniform. “These look good, Jimmy,” the editor offered. “Congrats, kid. With all the shots you've gotten over the past week, especially that one with the Planet globe, it looks like you might eventually be headed for a Pulitzer.”
“Yeah, mostly thanks to Mister Kent, here.” Jimmy patted Clark on the shoulder, grinning at him.
“Looks like we're finally getting back to some decent journalism around this place, between the three of you,” Perry nodded in agreement, waving a hand around to indicate the two younger men and Lois, still out in the newsroom.
“It really is almost like you never left, you know, Clark?” Jimmy said. “I mean, I really didn't think it was possible, what with Miss Lane engaged and all, cuz' she's changed, a lot, but I swear it's already just like it was back then.” He spread his hands out before him as if to visualize a scene, remembering the powerful mutualism the trio had cultivated over the course of two and a half years. “It's like, team Lane, Kent, and Olsen, back in business. And with Superman back, it's even better! Right, Clark?” he smirked, swatting the reporter's arm excitedly with the back of his hand.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Clark replied happily. He couldn't suppress a genuine smile at Jimmy's enthusiasm, knowing how the younger man's recent dry spell had led him to drinking in the middle of the day. If Clark hadn't been in the midst of drowning in his own self-pity that first day back at work, he probably would have tried to talk Jimmy out of that ill-fated trip to the Ace O' Clubs when it was barely noon. Now, thankfully, it didn't look like the photographer would be making any repeats of that day any time soon. Getting him working and helping him get some great shots seemed to have given Jimmy a huge boost.
“It is good to have you back, son,” Perry added, looking up from the photos and the article to give Clark a serious look.
“Thanks, Chief,” he replied, adjusting his glasses in a nervous gesture beneath the editor's oddly scrutinizing gaze. As he smiled crookedly, he noticed a news story beginning on the TV in the corner. “Oh, there it is,” he pointed, drawing Perry and Jimmy's attention, and the trio looked up at the screen, the young photographer seating himself in one of the large chairs and Clark shoving his hands down into his pockets.
Perry laid down the photos and remarked, “Looks like Teague Williams beat you to the punch.”
“...last night, when WGBS got the video exclusive of Superman visiting the Metropolis University Stadium.” The image of the newscaster gave way to a view of the stadium, focusing on the people still lined up on the sidewalk. “Our cameras arrived on the scene after Superman made his way through the stadium, speaking to many of the people who had been displaced by last week's earthquake.” The view switched to one of Superman talking to several people in line in front of the stadium, leaning in to show his interest in their stories, shaking their hands, telling them that everything would be okay. The camera caught his intent, concerned gaze as he listened to them, the hint of sadness in his unearthly eyes, and captured the relieved looks the people returned, their expressions of “thank you,” even the tears running down some of their cheeks. “Superman was kind enough to grant our very own Marissa Baxter a brief interview during his visit.”
The view once again changed, to show Superman standing next to, and towering over, a dark-haired woman in a Red Cross uniform, who sported a look of relieved exhaustion. The field reporter stood to the right of Superman, a microphone in her hand, held high to make sure to get Superman's every word. “I'm here at the Metropolis University Stadium with one of the Red Cross coordinators, Miss Angela Taylor, and with the Man of Steel himself, Superman,” she said, nearly bubbling over with excitement. “Sir, what prompted your visit to the shelter this evening?” she asked him, ignoring the other woman.
“Well,” he began, his voice warm and even, “I heard how many people were displaced by damages caused by the earthquake last week, and I had to come and see what I could do to help. Miss Taylor―” he nodded to the woman on his left, “was kind enough to fill me in on everything that's been happening here. Most people are here either because of broken gas lines or water pipes, or because of structural damages to their homes. Many of them have no home to return to at all. I would like to take this opportunity to ask the citizens of Metropolis to help these people.” He looked directly into the camera. “They have no place to go, and they need you. Please, if you have room, open your home to someone here.” He laid a hand on the dark-haired woman's shoulder gently, “The Red Cross needs your help, too, both in the way of donations and volunteers. They can't do this alone. Only by standing together can the city of Metropolis hope to fix this unfortunate situation.”
“Superman, this is your first live interview after returning to Metropolis last week, can you tell us why?” the reporter asked, changing the subject.
A look of slight confusion passed over Superman's face at the irrelevant question, and he crossed his arms in front of him. “As you can tell, I've been pretty busy since I got back. I think helping the city is more important than talking about myself. I'll continue to do everything I can to help. Thank you.” With that, he turned, waved to everyone, and took to the sky, his dark red cape fluttering behind him as he ascended into the darkness.
“There you have it, folks!” the reporter concluded. “Superman has made a request of the people of Metropolis. Open your hearts and your homes to the people here at the stadium, and if you can afford it, the Red Cross could certainly use your donations of time and money. I'm Marissa Baxter, WGBS News.”
The view returned to the newscaster in the studio. “Within an hour after we first broke this story last night, calls began flooding into the station offering temporary homes for many of the citizens at the Met U Stadium, including an offer from the Metropolis Hyatt Hotel of two hundred unbooked rooms for the next week free of charge. In addition, when it was learned that no federal aid had yet been allocated for this disaster, an unbelievably generous donation to the city was made by Gotham based Wayne Enterprises in the amount of five hundred million dollars.”
Relief flooded Clark at the last piece of news and he felt his knees go momentarily weak. His old acquaintance had come through to help in the one way he couldn't: financially. Thanks, Bruce...
At some point during the broadcast Lois had come in to the office to stand behind Jimmy. When the broadcast ended, she shook her head, “Huh. Go figure,” startling the photographer nearly out of his seat.
* * * * *
Richard White emptied the last of the Kung Pao chicken onto his rice and attacked it with his chop sticks, knowing his guts would pay for it later. Another late evening at the Planet, another quick meal from a questionable Chinese place. He just couldn't do to stay on a normal diet anymore, and could count on one hand the number of times he'd actually eaten at home in the last ten days. It seemed like Jason was the only one in the family who ate right, but of course that was only due to his innumerable food allergies. Wheat, shellfish, eggs, milk, you name it, the poor kid was allergic to it. They could literally take no chances with what he ate. Tonight the gang dined on sloppy Chinese food, while Jason was rewarded with vegetarian couscous, rice noodles, and soy-milk. An eclectic meal at best, but a far cry better than the fireball of leftover chicken scraps Richard was forcing down. He wondered why he even bothered with it.
“Are there any pot stickers left?” Lois asked, rummaging through the cartons they had spread over the conference room table.
“There should be,” Richard replied, glancing up from his food. “I only had one. Jimmy had two.”
“Here,” Jimmy said from the other end of the table, pointing out the right carton.
Lois found the errant pot stickers and slid two of the remaining three onto her paper plate. “Gotcha,” she declared, then plopped back into her chair to gulp them down and continue working on her laptop. Out of the group, only Lois had chosen to continue working through dinner.
She didn't bother to look up when Clark came into the conference room a few minutes later, finally back from a visit to S.T.A.R. Labs. “Hey, guys,” he said as he entered, giving a dorky wave and quirky smile.
“Hi, Clark!” Jason smiled up at him from the other side of the table.
Clark returned his grin readily. “Hey, Jason. What did you learn in school today?”
“We learned about volcanoes,” the boy replied before shoving a forkful of couscous into his mouth.
Jimmy added, “Jason's first ever science project this year is going to be a mock-up of a volcano. I'm gonna help him build it. Right, buddy?”
The little boy nodded vigorously as he chewed.
“That's great,” Clark beamed. Finding a seat, he laid a manila envelope on the table and began to dig through what was left of the food, then turned his attention to the adults in the room. “What did I miss?”
“Not too much,” Richard answered him. “Lois is finishing up an article on the police 'findings' at the Vanderworth estate and the hunt for Luthor for tomorrow's edition, Jimmy's working up a few last minute photos for the same, and I'm up to my eyeballs in international speculation as to whether or not the Man of Steel is a Communist.”
Clark gulped down a mouthful of shrimp fried rice, his eyes wide. “A Communist?” he questioned. “That's a new twist.”
“Oh, I seem to remember there was some of the same speculation back in ninety-nine, but it's just one of those rumors that won't seem to die. It's the stuff that controversy's built on,” the other man expanded.
“Don't forget the UN wants to bring Luthor to trial before an international tribunal,” Olsen put in as he dug through a carton for more sweet and sour pork.
“That, too,” replied Richard. “They made the statement about an hour ago. Lois is having to rewrite half her article for it.” That garnered only a quick nod from Lois, who went on typing madly on her laptop, her eyes focused behind her glasses.
“Hmm,” Clark said, narrowing his eyes. “Hey, did Helen Daniels manage to get any answers about federal aid for Metropolis today?”
The assistant editor shook his head. “No such luck. The president just kept going on about how Metropolis needed to band together, and with help like that donation from Wayne Enterprises, there should be no problem getting the city back to normal. It's the same garbage he fed southern California after Maureen, not that anyone should be surprised.”
Clark felt heart sick at that. When did politicians become so indifferent in this country? he thought sadly. “I guess the city's just going to have to fend for itself, then?”
“Pretty much.”
“Huh.” Taking another bite of his rice, he tried not to let a certain sense of guilt creep up on him over that news, but then he remembered why he'd come into the conference room in the first place. He swallowed quickly. “Oh, Lois, here's what I got from S.T.A.R. Labs,” he said, pushing the envelope toward her over the table.
This was enough to pull her attention away from the computer screen. “What is it?” She opened the envelope, removed several papers, and began to scan them quickly. “Geez, Clark! Is this on the record?” Her eyes grew wider as she read.
“Mm-hmm,” he nodded. “We can take it to print any time.”
“Damn. Uh, I mean, darn,” she said, correcting herself not quite quickly enough as her eyes briefly flitted over to her small son.
Jason smiled wryly. “Mommy, you said a swear,” he giggled.
“Sorry,” she apologized, her eyes fixed on the papers from the lab.
“What is it?” Richard asked, curious.
Clark started, “You know how they discovered the signal being sent by the crystals Luthor grew?”
Richard nodded.
“Well, Superman dropped into S.T.A.R. earlier today and was able to help them decode the signal. The code itself is superficially similar to both binary and Morse code, but a heck of a lot more complex beneath the surface. Apparently it took Superman almost an hour to puzzle out the algorithm, you know, not having... access... to his own technology, since Luthor stole it,” he explained, beginning to fidget at the too-honest admission. “I guess it wasn't quite like anything he'd really seen before. Anyway, just like we thought, the message is a distress signal. It's a call for help, that something's gone terribly wrong with the implementation of the technology, that it might have fallen into the wrong hands. Superman supposed it was designed to alert Krypton so they could act to correct the situation―”
“Which is exactly what we figured,” Lois cut in, looking up from the printouts.
“Right,” he confirmed. “Looks like we were right about everything. He said he didn't have any proof, but that aspect of the technology was probably designed for use off-world, for colonization. He'd never seen any mention of that kind of a fail-safe mechanism in any of the historical records he had from Krypton.”
“But there aren't any colonies out there,” Lois interjected.
“That we know of,” Clark added reluctantly, still feeling the same sense of dread that had filled him when they had spoken with Hamilton about the signal two days ago.
Richard sat straight up in his chair. “Um, you two might not want to print that just yet,” he said cautiously.
“Why not?” Lois asked, her brow furrowed at the suggestion.
“Well, after Daniels stirred up the president's nonchalant reaction to federal aid for Metropolis, she managed to weasel out of him that the government is considering sending a survey mission to New Krypton, with the intent of eventually mining it. He didn't say for what, but I think the mere idea speaks for itself.”
Clark felt a chill run down his spine in shock. “What?” he asked, wide-eyed as he struggled to keep his composure, knowing that no good could possibly come of a mission to New Krypton. The sheer amount of kryptonite alone...
“Depending on the international reaction, if they get the support for this, it's possible an initial survey mission could go up in a few months, maybe sooner.”
Lois jumped in, “So, what? Do we sit on this and wait to see if anything responds to the signal or not? Let the government decide to send up a mission and see what happens?”
“The last time information was withheld from the government it got us into a war,” Jimmy added. “Lois is right. We should put it all out there.”
“I don't know,” Clark responded. “If we put this out, they might panic and decide to send up a mission without thinking it through.”
Richard held up a hand to interject. “Or they might decide to scrap the idea altogether. Maybe decide to destroy New Krypton instead.”
“But that could leave dangerous amounts of kryptonite floating around in orbit,” Lois retorted. “No, we've got to print this. We've got to print everything we have. That's what we're here for, isn't it? To print the truth, all of it?” She looked from Clark to Richard and back, a look of determination on her face. “At the very least, it'll prompt them to find Luthor faster. He is responsible for this mess, after all.”
Richard gazed at his fiancée. Sometimes she reminded him of a locomotive, barreling forward at full speed with no signs of stopping or slowing down. It scared him a little. “Okay, then. Think you can get it ready for the morning edition, Clark? Got about two hours till final deadline.”
Clark hesitated, still unsure whether printing the story was such a great idea in the face of a possible mission to New Krypton. But the look in Lois's eyes... she would not be dissuaded. Her sheer will in the face of terrible odds was one of the things he had always loved about her. “Um, yeah, no problem,” he nodded.
“Great. I'll go talk to Jennifer in Layout and get her to put a hold on the front page, and I'll let the Copy Desk know to wait for your article. Jimmy see if you can find some stock photos of S.T.A.R. Labs. We'll need to reuse that shot of New Krypton, too.”
“Gotcha,” the photographer replied, and the group set back to work, leaving the rest of the Chinese food untouched.
* * * * *
An hour later, Richard decided it was time to take the munchkin home for the night, since his work for the day was complete, and Lois was nearly finished with her Luthor article. He bundled the boy up and gathered his own things before heading to the elevators. “Lois, can we talk for a second?” he said, motioning for her to walk them out, and leaving Clark alone, working busily in the conference room on a company laptop.
“Sure,” she replied, and got up to follow them, passing the few other stragglers from the day shift and the incoming night staff.
Once outside the doors to the bullpen, Richard began, “So, you and Clark have been working pretty closely the last few days.”
“Yeah, why, is that odd?” she replied.
“No, no. It's just, you never mentioned Clark much before he got back, but it seems like you two were a pretty good team.” Richard hoisted Jason onto his hip, backpack and all, and the little boy laid his head on his dad's shoulder, his eyes drooping with exhaustion.
“I suppose. We were pretty good friends back then, but after he left, I dunno, I never saw any reason to talk about it.” Lois felt like she was holding something back, however. Why hadn't she ever mentioned Clark? He had been an understanding friend and she'd missed his company terribly. Smiling forcibly, she mentally shrugged it off.
“Okay. I just wanted to ask. You've been working some pretty serious hours lately, and I just want to make sure you're all right, since everything got so crazy around here.” He looked into her eyes as if to say “Please take a break from this. We need you.”
“I'm fine, Richard,” she smirked, ignoring his gaze and rolling her eyes. “I'm in good hands with Clark.” She knew Richard still wanted her to lay off of some of the stories she and Clark had been chasing, but four shared bylines in two days? It was almost too good to be true! Too bad her fiancé saw it differently, though. He wanted her to slow down, take a breather, come home for a while. But she just couldn't do that yet. Once she smelled news, she would pursue it to its natural conclusion, and with Luthor still out there... No. Now was not the time to be sleeping on the job.
Looking at her little boy, however, challenged her determination in a fundamental way, filling her with regret that she wasn't spending the kind of time with him that she needed to, that she so desperately wanted to. Lately she'd felt the pull to keep an eye on him every minute, with the possibility of such important changes looming on the horizon for him in light of the incident aboard the Gertrude. The prospect of Jason manifesting some incredible power when she wasn't there left her with an uneasy, slightly panicked feeling. She couldn't stand the thought that he might be discovered now, after all she'd done and gone through to protect him. But Luthor... She knew none of them were safe as long as he was still unaccounted for. And that meant work.
Sweeping an errant lock of hair back from her son's face, she continued, “I should be done here in another hour or so. Be home just in time to tuck you into bed, little mister.” She kissed the boy on his cheek, getting a faint, sweet smile from him in return, and to Richard, she concluded, “Don't worry so much. Things will settle down a bit after this week.” At least, she hoped it would. She really hadn't pushed herself this much since the mess in the middle east had heated up a few years earlier.
Her fiancé nodded in reply, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Lois looked into his light eyes, hoping to find the connection she'd always felt there, the feeling of encouragement and shared strength. It was still there, but somehow weaker, as if something was missing, or changed. She couldn't put her finger on it, but had plenty of suspicions. Maybe the work overload was getting to her more than she wanted to admit. Maybe Richard still wondered about her past with a certain man in blue tights. She was too tired to think about it. Neither of them had forgotten the conversation they'd had on Monday; it almost seemed to be lingering between them.
“I love you, Richard.”
“I love you, too, Lois.” They kissed briefly, then parted.
Lois didn't bother to wait while her fiancé boarded the elevator with her son to head out.
* * * * *
Back in the conference room, Clark looked up when she entered and reclaimed her seat. He noticed the same tell-tale signs that he'd seen on Monday morning that said she'd been working too hard: slightly drooping eyes, sallow cheeks, chewed fingernails. She looked so unbelievably tired, but threw herself back into finishing her story, her eyes set with determination. Sighing to himself, he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised; he'd started them on the investigation into Luthor, and had willingly let her swing them between two sets of stories for the last four days.
After another twenty minutes of working in silence, she pushed back from the table and threw up her hands in exhausted triumph. “Finished,” she proclaimed. “Finally.” She pulled off her glasses and rubbed at her eyes with a groan, then looked over at Clark. “I'm going to get some fresh air, then we can finish up the New Krypton story, get these printed and sent to copy, and get the hell out of here for the night.”
Clark nodded, “Okay,” and watched her grab her purse and coat to go take the elevator up to the roof. After a long moment of indecision, he followed.
* * * * *
On the dimly lit observation deck of the Daily Planet building, shadowed in the absence of the famous globe, Lois stared out at the sparkling Metropolis night and scratched absently at the nicotine patch she had placed on her shoulder that morning. Trying desperately to quit smoking, again, she had to fight the urge to light up, the urge to put a cigarette between her lips, to flick her lighter and inhale, to feel the calming rush as the smoke flowed down into her lungs. God, it would feel so good! she whimpered to herself, feeling the pull to take the edge off of everything. Anything to ease the anxiety that had refused to give her a moment's peace in almost two weeks...
Physically shaking herself, she begrudgingly summoned the determination to not give into the temptation. She'd gotten this far, after all. And besides, what would he say?
Oh, please! she grumbled. I could care less about his opinion.
A nagging part of her brain protested that thought, and though she tried to stomp it down with the foot of “Mad Dog Lane”, the notion that maybe she did care what he thought began to nibble at the edges of her mind.
Damn him.
Of course, that would explain why she kept finding herself taking the elevator to the roof at odd intervals, standing at the ledge and staring out at the broken city, her stomach drawn up in knots. How many times this week had it been already? Three? Four? And all for what? To wait to see if he showed up? She felt like a mooning schoolgirl at the very notion. After all this time, after everything, and she still blindly followed her compulsion to seek him out.
No... she knew it was more than that. It wasn't lovesick teenage angst that compelled her anymore. As much as parts of her screamed to see him again, to feel his arms around her and... No!!! There were more important things, more important people to consider. And he had no right to upset that.
Her mind shot to the tiny box sitting in her coat pocket, as it had for the past three days. She needed to tell him... everything. About Jason, about Richard, about what happened aboard the Gertrude... And she wanted... she wasn't sure what she wanted. Maybe to put her feelings for him to rest. Maybe she just hoped - the idea flipped her stomach in a way she didn't like at all - to find some reason to change her mind about everything. To forgive him for leaving her when she had needed him so badly, when their son had needed him.
Still staring out at the glittering skyline and listening to the city below her as she leaned against the concrete ledge with her palms, she was dismayed to find herself unable to focus her thoughts on something, anything, other than him. Maybe Richard had been right, she thought with a bitter chuckle, maybe she shouldn't have been working on all these stories that were so closely tied to Superman. The hunt for Luthor, the police investigation at the Vanderworth estate, the crystals... What the hell had she expected? She had thrown herself into the work and, with no regard for the people around her, had taken her family and colleagues along for the ride. And just where had it gotten her? For all her forceful suppression of whatever feelings his return had brought back, for all the denial she had heaped on top of it all, the whole mess refused to stay buried. It just sat there, right beneath her skin, right beneath the surface of every thought and action. Even trying to distract herself with working with Clark again hadn't really helped.
Well, maybe it had helped a little - okay, a lot - but still not enough to stop his voice from echoing in her mind. “Will you come with me? ...Please.” How could she still hear him so clearly? What the hell is wrong with me? she asked herself, frustrated.
Lois hugged her coat tighter around herself in the chilly October air. If this weather held, soon she would have to stop venturing out onto the roof. The thought sent a pang of anxiety stabbing through her already knotted gut, only leaving her more furious.
“A little cold out to be on the roof, isn't it, Lois?” a warm, firm voice said from behind her, startling her out of her reverie. Her stomach flipped and her pulse quickened involuntarily as she turned to see him descending from the sky toward her, landing softly on the concrete rooftop.
“Where have you been?” she demanded coldly, although she knew perfectly well how busy he had been. Crossing her arms in front of her, she shot him a daggered gaze in defiance of her own traitorous reaction to seeing him for the first time in almost a week.
“Around,” he replied softly in that deep timbre that never failed to turn her bones to jell-o. “I'm sorry I haven't stopped by, Lois. I thought you needed some time and space. I... don't want to intrude.”
“You're not intruding,” she was quick to assure him, but then mentally kicked herself; it wasn't like he was going to fly off and not come back. He wasn't some flighty bird, no matter how much his track record seemed to prove the opposite. She shook her head and continued, trying to keep her voice even, “Look, I'm not going to let my life change just because you're here, but you are here, and there's a lot that I have to tell you. So much that...” She trailed off, exhaling heavily and shaking her head again.
Standing a safe distance from her, Clark took a deep breath, anxiety pumping adrenaline all the way to his toes. “Tell me,” he said quietly, his eyes focused intently on her as he hoped coming up here to talk to her wasn't as bad an idea as it still seemed.
“Well...” she began, trying not to rush into the subject of their son too soon. Best to start with a less dangerous topic. “I suppose you know all about Luthor's little experiment at the Vanderworth estate. I heard you were at S.T.A.R. Labs today; they probably filled you in on everything.”
Clark blinked a few times, not having expected to discuss work topics. He'd thought... But he shook it off, trying to collect himself. “Yes,” he replied after a moment. “I decoded the crystal signal for them. It's meant to be a distress call for Krypton.”
“So I gathered. Look, I don't know if this will help, or if there's anything you can do with it, but I took this from the Vanderworth house.” Lois reached into her purse and withdrew the first crystal she had snapped off of mini-New Krypton. She had to force her hand to steady as she outstretched her arm to hand it to him.
“Thank you,” he replied quietly, stepping closer, his own hand outstretched.
As he accepted the crystal from her, the barest brush of her fingertips with his own sent a jolt of electricity up her arm, and she barely managed to suppress a shiver. Damn it! she cursed herself, watching him tuck the crystal away into what she supposed was a hidden pocket in his cape.
“There's something else you need to know before you print whatever story it is you've planned about this,” he said intently, knowing he had to tell her about whatever it was his ship had encountered in space. If anything, that knowledge might help inform their story on the signal, since he couldn't have mentioned it as “Clark”. Slowly, he stepped closer yet, breathing evenly and trying to keep his composure as he kept his gaze locked on hers.
Looking up into his blue eyes - no, they were sapphire, she decided, with the way the city lights seem to reflect in them against the dim light of the rooftop - she cocked her head to the side, curious. “What?”
“When I left Krypton, what was left of it, there was something―” He paused, clenching his jaw and making the muscle in his cheek jump. “I'm not sure what it was, but it set off an alarm on my ship. I didn't remember it until a few days ago, because I was sick - with kryptonite poisoning - when I was in Krypton's space. I passed out in the stasis chamber before I could find out what it was.” He squeezed his eyes shut and breathed out slowly, turning his head away from her, “Something is out there, Lois. It might be something that could respond to this signal.”
“You were sick?” she said suddenly, her eyes narrowing and her chest constricting with the same fierce urge to protect him that she had felt when they pulled him, unconscious, from the water in the Atlantic. “Why didn't you tell me? What happened?” She laid a hand on his bicep, clasping gently.
Surprised at her concerned gesture as he felt the fiery strength of her touch, Clark sucked in a breath, his eyes popping open and his mouth gaping as he turned his face back to her. A voice at the edge of his thoughts wondered again whether it was such a good idea to have come up here; they were too close, it was almost too much for him to process. Schooling his expression, he shook his head and tried to explain. “What was left of the planet was permeated by kryptonite. I was so eager to see Krypton that I hadn't bothered to look for it,” he said ruefully, honestly. “When I finally felt the effects, I could barely get my ship out. It was so stupid.” He paused, his eyes focusing far beyond her. “I was a fool for going there.”
“No, you weren't,” Lois corrected him as a thought occurred to her. Though she really wanted to tell him he should never have left Earth, should never have left her, she knew the spiteful impulse wouldn't accomplish anything. “No one gave you any reason not to go,” she finished in a small voice, then paused for a long moment.
He only stared down at her, his eyes piercing hers.
Lois let her hand slip down from his arm and tried to shrug off their eye contact, not sure it was a connection she wanted to make... yet... if at all. She crossed her arms over her chest again. “So your ship detected something out in space,” she said, returning again to safer territory. “Do you have any way to find out what it was? Did your ship have any sort of computer memory?”
Clark blinked heavily as she seemed to close herself off from him, avoiding the discussion they really needed to have. “I - It should,” he answered her finally, his eyes narrowed. He hadn't thought about the crystal star's computer, but it would have a complete log of the journey, hopefully still intact after his disastrous landing at the farm. He would have to take the time to dig it back up, not that that would take long. “I'll check,” he promised, “and I'll let you know if I find anything.”
“Good,” Lois said, tipping her chin up in a decisive nod. But just when she felt she'd put a little bit of distance between them, she knew it wasn't going to last. Turning away to look out over the city, she took a deep breath. It was definitely turning into one of those conversations...
“There are some things you need to know about Jason,” she said after a long moment of strained silence. “You deserve to know everything.”
Clark's pulse began to hammer in his ears as his stomach twisted, and all he could do was look at her, wide-eyed and expectant, waiting to hear whatever she had to say as she turned back to face him.
Their eyes met again and she said slowly, “When you disappeared... When you left, I - I already knew.”
Taking another surprised breath, he felt his blood run instantly cold. She had already known. If he had told her goodbye, she might have told him she was pregnant, and he would have stayed. No questions. He would have changed his mind about going to Krypton in an instant. She already knew... With his brow furrowed, he clenched his jaw and let Lois continue.
“I knew two weeks before you left, in fact.” Her expression seemed to grow colder, and he could tell it was difficult for her to talk about, listening to her heart thundering inside her chest. “I didn't want to tell you yet, because I knew how hard it would have been. I didn't want to... complicate things.” Lois turned away from him again, all the leftover bitterness at his disappearance sweeping back through her as if it had only happened yesterday. “And then you were just gone. I had no choice but to move on without you. To raise our son, without you,” she spat.
Clark could only imagine how awful it had been for her, and another twist of guilt wrung his guts out thoroughly. Taking a step closer to her, he touched her shoulder lightly to prompt her to turn to face him again. “You should have told me,” he said, frowning. “I wish you had told me. I would never have gone.” He wasn't entirely sure his voice didn't shake with his declaration. “I wouldn't have even considered it, Lois.”
Lois pulled away and walked to the other side of the observation deck, not wanting to let him be so near her. Her heels clacked on the concrete in the silence that separated them and she hugged herself against the chilly air. “How many times do you think I told myself that? But it was a little late for reconsideration once you were gone. I didn't know where you were, what had happened to you. Suddenly I had a child to worry about, and I didn't even know if he was going to―”
“Survive?” Clark finished her thought. Until six days ago he'd had no idea that the human and Kryptonian genomes were even compatible, much less close enough to produce healthy children. She nodded in confirmation, and they stood silently for a moment. “He's beautiful, Lois. He definitely takes after you.”
She closed her eyes briefly, then looked away, as if into the past, “You should have seen him when...” A lump grew in her throat as she realized the man standing across from her didn't even know his son's birthday. “He was born on August 7th, almost two months early, and... and he was so tiny, there were so many wires and tubes. I didn't even get to hold him for two weeks.” She blinked hard to try to stop the tears she knew would come if she thought about it any more. “If you'd only been there...”
Seeing her eyes beginning to glisten, he started to move forward, wanting only to comfort her, but some fearful inertia stopped him; did she even want to be comforted by him? After he'd left her to face that nightmare alone? He was gone when she had needed him most, when his son had needed him. Part of him suddenly wanted to hit something very hard, to just cut loose and obliterate something with his frustration, but all he could do was stand there with Lois and wait for her to tell him more.
As she swiped a hand over her cheek to stop a tear in its course, she continued, her voice more cold and spiteful. “If Richard, at least, hadn't been there, I don't know what I would have done.”
Clark's gut tried to strangle itself at her verbal slap, and his mother's words floated on his memory, “...she had to find someone else to take on your responsibility.”
“He knew I was already pregnant when we met, but he didn't care. He wanted to be with me, and he wanted to be Jason's father. So he was. His name is even on Jason's birth certificate.” But she felt a twinge of guilt at the suddenly pained look on Ka - his face, despite the even measure of satisfaction that surged up in her chest. By all rights he deserved to feel as bad about everything as she did, but... she hadn't given him any reason to stay when she'd had the chance. She knew that. It was her own damned fault.
But there was still more to tell, and spiteful remarks weren't going to get it all out into the open. Turning away again, she said, “Richard doesn't know Jason is yours. He doesn't really know about us, either.”
The knots in Clark's gut tightened a little more and for a moment, he felt like he couldn't breathe. After overhearing - seeing - Lois tell Richard she hadn't been in love with him before, he'd been forced to wonder whether she was lying to Richard, or whether she really hadn't ever loved him. Either way, the words had hurt. And now... now he at least knew that it was the former that was true, and not the latter. Their tense dance here on the rooftop should have been clue enough of that, if not her confession nearly a week ago that Jason was his.
But that didn't leave him with much hope yet, either. All it said was that there was a rift between Lois and Richard, which very closely resembled his own image. Clark didn't want to come between them, but at the same time, he couldn't fault Richard for having suspicions and feeling threatened.
“Richard doesn't like me very much,” he offered, hoping to learn more.
“No,” Lois shook her head, still looking out over the city. “He likes you just fine. He's grateful you were there to save us―” she paused, “when he couldn't.” Lois turned back abruptly, whipping her dark hair around, tears gleaming in her eyes. “I wasn't supposed to need you anymore! Not for anything. Richard and I have managed to raise Jason quite well without you. I managed quite well without you.”
She looked away briefly, feeling like an idiot for letting him get to her, for not corking her goddamn big mouth. How the hell was she supposed to get through this conversation if she kept throwing everything back in his face?
Stepping slightly closer, Clark frowned, his eyebrows knitted together. “I'm sorry, Lois,” he whispered.
She only shook her head, rolling her eyes angrily and pressing her lips together tightly. Finally, after a long, uncomfortable moment, she met his eyes. “You have absolutely no idea what I went through with Jason. Can you possibly imagine having to keep the world from finding out that your son isn't exactly completely human?”
Clark winced, thinking of his own mother briefly.
“He was... he was connected to all those damn machines, poked and prodded endlessly for weeks... and there was nothing I could do about it, because he needed it! I lived in abject terror for months that they were going to figure out he was different. I hardly slept that entire time, thinking they were going to take him away, that they would experiment on him or cut him up, like one of those damned 'Alien Autopsy' videos. After we brought him home... he was so strong already! And I―” Her breath caught in her throat as she realized this was the moment of total truth, and she forced her voice calm as she slipped her hand into her coat pocket, fingers closing around the tiny box. “I lost it. I didn't know what else to do. I... I did what I thought I had to, to make him normal.” Her chin began to quiver as she felt adrenaline rushing through her at her admission.
Clark's mind was trying to catch up with everything she was saying. It made sense; he'd lived with the same fear as a child, thinking some government organization was going to come take him away and dissect him like some specimen, but... something seemed really wrong with where this conversation was going. “Lois, what did you do?” he asked carefully, the small hairs on the back of his neck standing on end with his fear.
Pulling the little black box from her pocket, she held it before her, her face a mixture of fear and regret. Clark could see her hand shaking, even worse than when she'd handed him the crystal. “I - I―” was all she could get out as a terrified knot formed in her throat.
Closing the distance between them on the roof, Clark took the box from her, and slowly, he flipped the lid back.
When the faint wave of pain hit him square in the face, hands, and chest from the glowing green stone, he recoiled instantly, snapping the box shut. Oh, God, no... His face scrunched up in total confusion as he felt the world turn upside down. What had she done? “Lois?” he breathed, “Why?”
She shook her head sadly, swallowing down the knot. “I told you... I lost it. He is my life; I would have done anything to protect him... and―” She blinked hard. “I didn't have any idea he would get sick like he did. It was just a tiny piece. I thought... maybe... it would keep him from getting stronger, from doing all the things you can do... but he just got sick. So I put it away, and didn't open that box again until three days ago.”
Clark studied the small box in his hand, the full picture emerging in his mind. His son had been poisoned by this single, minuscule piece of kryptonite, his little body unable to fix itself. He remembered the sickness he had felt looking up at the tower of Sor-El as the deadly veins of kryptonite glowed from the cracks in the structure. He remembered the exhaustion that overtook him after fighting to rid Earth of New Krypton. Had his son felt that same pain and exhaustion? Struggling to keep calm, he choked, “How long? How long was he... exposed?” The word tasted bitter on his tongue, the same urge to decimate something in frustration nearly overwhelming him.
“Only a day,” she said, her voice very small and her eyes pleading with him for forgiveness.
He nodded, feeling his heart constricting further with grief. As much as he wanted to be angry with her, to be furious with her, he just couldn't; it was his fault. All of it. “Y - you have to destroy this,” he finally said, his voice barely wavering with emotion.
“I know,” she replied slowly as she took the box back from him, slipping it out of his fingers easily. Returning it to her pocket, she looked up at him and let out a small sigh, almost frosty in the cold air. “He's more like you than you know. He... did something...”
Clark raised his eyebrows, his stomach leaping. “What?”
“He - Jason saved my life when we were on Luthor's yacht.”
A small tingle of excitement worked its way up his back at the implication; his son may yet have hope. “How?”
“One of Luthor's men was going to kill me. Jason threw a piano at him.” Lois nearly beamed with pride through what was left of her tears.
“A piano?” Clark asked, confused.
She nodded. “It was in the main cabin of the yacht. I told him to play it... to keep him calm, and to distract Luthor's thug so I could send a fax for help. The thug saw what I was doing, and... Jason just... threw the piano.” Tears began to run down her cheeks in earnest. “I don't think he had any idea what he was doing; he didn't mean to kill the guy... he just wanted to save me. He... he's just like you! He's your son, and I can't deny him that.” Everything that Lois had been bottling up for the past week and a half seemed to erupt at once, and she simply let go and sobbed.
Clark's heart ripped to shreds at the thought of that beautiful little boy being forced to take a life to save his mother's, at the sight of Lois in tears, and he couldn't allow himself to just stand by any more and watch her cry. Two steps brought him to her, and he drew her up in a warm embrace, hoping against hope that he could comfort her, take away all the pain and fear his absence had caused. “Thank you, Lois,” he breathed into her soft hair, holding her close as her petite body shook with her sobs.
Burying her face in his chest, she wept openly, furious that she couldn't control herself anymore, that - once again - it was him that seemed to be coming to her aid. “Dammit, Kal―” she cried, barely catching herself before she could let his name pass her lips. No, you're not allowed that luxury! Not yet. With a wail, she raised a fist and punched his chest weakly. “Dammit.”
Still holding her, Clark felt his knees go weak at the near-utterance of his name. The last time she'd said it was... too long ago. Far too long ago. “I'm sorry,” he said, the default apology slipping from him automatically.
“Just tell me he'll be okay. Tell me Jason will be fine,” she demanded, her voice exhausted.
“I... I don't know,” Clark replied honestly.
They stood there for a long time as Lois's sobs quieted to heavy breaths, neither wanting to let go. After what felt like hours of just clinging to each other in the face of an uncertain future, a low rumble from somewhere in the city caught Clark's attention. Lois's head snapped up as she heard it, too.
They looked into each other's eyes once again. “I have to go,” he told her as he brought a hand up to gently wipe some of the tears from her face.
Fighting the urge to lean into his touch, she whispered, “I know.”
Clark let go of her slowly and stepped back, not wanting to leave her. “I'll come see you and Jason in a few days,” he promised.
With a faint smile, Lois called after him as he rose to the sky, “Good night.”
Looking back, he replied, “Good night, Lois,” before speeding away toward the source of the rumble.
* * * * *