~~~Part 21~~~
Lois resisted the urge to pace the short length of the room back at the Apollo as she waited for Clark to return with something to eat. Food was the furthest thing from her mind right now. And sleep wasn't high up on her list, either, despite what she'd told Perry. She was so angry. So hurt. So... disappointed in herself for letting her guard down.
She'd *known* he still hadn't told her everything, yet still she'd let herself fall. Though she wasn't sure she'd even had a choice in the matter. Underneath the heavy ache that had settled in her chest, and somewhere behind the bruised trust... something just felt *right*.
She'd have to fight, though, to keep the anger and hurt on top. She couldn't afford to be vulnerable right now. And especially not around Clark Kent.
Where the heck did he go for the croissants, anyway? Fra...
He probably did go to France. She kept forgetting.
And it didn't make sense. All those powers, the special abilities...
He could probably carry the world on his shoulders... if his own burdens weren't weighing him down.
Clark Kent was a mystery to her. Especially because he'd professed to love her. To trust her. But the doubt remained, creeping along the edge of her senses. How could he have been telling the truth when he hadn't told her...
He'd known all along about the connection, the feelings she'd been having. He'd known. And he hadn't told her. She didn't understand. She'd been so excited at the idea. Had he not been? And there had been a flash of blind panic on his face when he'd realized what he'd said. He'd been keeping it from her, and she couldn't for the life of her figure out why. All she knew was that it hurt.
And she'd be damn sure it didn't happen again.
The door opened to reveal a tired looking Clark carrying a brown paper sack. He appeared to be just as worn as she was... She set her jaw, determined not to let him get to her.
Clark Kent had a lot to learn about Lois Lane.
She didn't say anything for a moment, not sure where to begin. She watched in silence as he set the bag down on the table and shut the door behind him. He turned to look at her, vulnerability and regret painfully evident in his eyes.
Lois took a breath to brace herself, trying her best to keep her voice even. "I want you to tell me what's going on."
"What do you mean?" No trace of deceit, just curiosity in his anxious voice...
"I mean, how exactly did you visit your parents on vacation if they're dead?"
He stood in shocked silence for a moment before he spoke. "I... t-they aren't my parents... They're his."
So it was true, then. His... *his* parents... doubles... counterparts...
Everything started to fall into place. Clark had been in the other universe. He'd seen his counterpart's parents. He'd seen her. Again.
She wondered how much time he'd spent there. Long enough to learn about Lex Luthor. Long enough to learn more about being Superman. And obviously long enough to have needed to take her picture home with him.
Lois swallowed. Hard. Fought back the tears that threatened. "What were you doing over in the other universe? Leisure trip?"
She saw him wince at her sharp tone. "No." His eyes fell to the floor for a moment, and she watched him bite at his lower lip.
The emotions were becoming too much to bear. Her pain. His guilt. Her dread. His panic. All churning inside, making her sick to her stomach. She swallowed again.
He looked back up at her with resignation in his eyes. "I was over there... filling in for him while... he was out of town."
That... wasn't so bad... "Sort of like a superhero temp agency?" She attempted a smile, but didn't get very far.
"No," he said quietly. "Superman was out of town. I was filling in for Clark Kent."
"But... they're still the same person, aren't they?" The intensity of their emotions had tamped down a fraction... but his apprehension, his hesitancy worried her. There was something else...
He looked confused for a second, then seemed to understand what she was asking. "Yeah. They are. Uh... he is. One person."
"I don't understand."
Clark took a step towards her, and she tensed.
"Lois, could we sit down... maybe?
Her eyes wandered to the single chair in the room, and then over to the bed. Clark made the decision for her, taking the chair, probably assuming she'd be more comfortable on the bed.
She wouldn't be comfortable anywhere right now... but she made her way over to the bed, climbing on and sitting on the pillows, her back against the wall. She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. The room fell into near silence again after the creaking of the mattress stopped when she'd gotten settled. The dull drone from the refrigerator seemed to get a fraction louder with every passing second. Finally, she looked back over at Clark and stared at him expectantly.
He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. "The other Clark has a secret identity... well, Superman does... what I mean is... no one in that universe knows that Clark Kent is Superman."
"Oh." That was... she didn't really understand...
"Actually, no one was supposed to know here, either." He sounded so defeated, resigned about it.
"Does it matter?"
"Yeah. No... I don't know. It doesn't anymore, I guess, since everyone knows." He stared down at his hands in his lap. "It might have been nice to have a little privacy, though."
The sadness in his voice tugged at her heart. But she couldn't give into the urge to go over and hug him. Not when he hadn't told her everything...
"So you got to be just Clark Kent over there? No Superman? No strings attached?" she asked softly. Maybe that was why he had such a hard time being a superhero - out of practice?
His brow furrowed slightly. "Yeah..."
"For how long?"
"Just about four weeks."
Her brow furrowed. For someone who'd just wished for anonymity, he didn't sound too happy about having had exactly that for an entire month. She watched him study his fingers intently, as if he were contemplating something, deciding something.
"What exactly did you do while you were there?"
He brought his eyes back level with hers. Still full of anguish. "I acted as if I were the Clark Kent of that universe... reporter for the Daily Planet... son to living, loving parents, Martha and Jonathan Kent... and..."
Lois held her breath, not sure of what was coming, but she didn't think she really wanted to hear it.
"And fiance to Lois Lane."
She bit back a gasp. Swallowed roughly. "Oh." It was worse than she thought. She'd been right to be jealous. The back of her eyes started burning, and she could feel her eyes tearing. There was no reason to be upset. This was a whole universe away.
"N-nothing h-happened between us or anything."
She might have nodded in response, but she couldn't be sure. She wondered just how well he'd played his role. How much he looked like his counterpart... if... Lois shook her head. Of course nothing happened...
<This other Lois... changed my life... I needed something to remember her by.>
The woman was engaged to another man... who, if looking at her counterpart's picture was any indication, looked exactly like Clark...
She tried to focus on taking regular breaths. Him and her. Lois Lane and Clark Kent.
"Lois?" His worried voice barely registered.
Lois Lane and Clark Kent. It was almost melodic. Lois Lane and Clark Kent. He thought...
He thought that... He'd spent four weeks learning how to be in love with Lois Lane, and he... He'd brought her picture home. She was supposed to be...
The hurt and anger surged back with a vengeance, and she scrambled off the bed, trying to fill some inexplicable need to have something between them. Something other than this connection, though she did hope that he could feel *her* emotions. She hoped her anger burned right through to him.
She crossed her arms in front of her. He thought he could just... swap. One for the other. And not tell her. But he hadn't planned on Perry slipping up.
"Why didn't you tell me, Clark?" She didn't curb the edge to her voice. "Why didn't you tell me the real reason you have *her* picture?"
"I was trying to forget," he pleaded.
"Exactly, Clark! You had to try. You're still trying. But why? Am I supposed to take her place? Am I just a cheap substitute? How convenient that I even came right to your doorstep. Your bedroom, even. You barely had to flex a muscle before I fell into your arms, ready and willing because I was dying for some sort of connection. To feel alive." She huffed, ignoring his attempts to deny any of it. "Well, I'm. Not. Her. I am not..." She took a shuddering breath, damning the anger that was slowly bleeding away. "I'm not..." She needed that anger... she didn't want to feel what was underneath. "I'm not... anyone, least of all Lois Lane."
***
Clark couldn't breathe. The emotions were too strong. From her anger to his guilt to her anguish to his pain... all of it was just too much. There was a vice tightening around his heart, and he was suffocating.
Finally, he exhaled sharply. His voice was weak and wobbly, but it didn't matter. "No, Lois... No, please don't think that. Any of it."
She didn't answer him, and turned her back to him instead. He fought hard to hold back the tears. He wasn't going to cry. Even if the feeling of her trying to do the same was unbearable. He'd had enough of crying.
He shut his eyes and let his head fall back in frustration.
Why hadn't he thought that Perry might say something? He should have told her. Why hadn't he just told her?
Everything was just... too hard.
Three days. It'd only been three days. Everything was moving too fast. Couldn't he... couldn't he have just had one day to enjoy things before they'd turned into a disaster? Just one. He didn't know how to do this. How to handle any of it. Every fiber of his being was telling him that he needed to hold her and make the pain go away. But how did he do that when she hated him? And how did he do that when her pain and his were bound as one?
Clark dropped his gaze to the concrete floor, trying to pretend it wasn't starting to get blurry. Somehow, he had to get her to understand that she was the only one he'd ever really wanted. Even before he'd known it himself. She had to know that he'd never really felt alive until she'd shown up. That he didn't feel so alone anymore.
If she'd even listen to a word he said.
The early morning sun was doing its best to force light into the room through the grimy window. All it managed was a faint, bleak shaft of light that crept along the floor, coming to a halt just before it touched Lois's heels. He let his eyes wander up to look at her.
Her back was still toward him, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. She was trembling. Crying. He didn't know what he was supposed to do.
"Lois? he tried softly.
She only shook her head, almost imperceptibly, and hugged herself tighter.
How did he tell her... he *had* loved the other Lois... Or at least he'd wanted to. But only because of a faint echo of the connection he'd felt. The same connection that was now painfully evident, like an electric current in a lightning storm.
He reached an arm out towards her, futilely. He let it drop back to his side. The ache in his chest hadn't lessened. Her figure blurred before him, but he wasn't going to cry. One of them had to be strong. They couldn't both fall apart, could they? Just keep breathing.
It wasn't meant to be this hard. He wasn't supposed to be terrified that this might not all work out. He wasn't meant to question whether or not this was destined to be. He wasn't supposed to be questioning his love for Lois because a meddling time traveler had used him as a standby replacement to ensure someone *else's* happiness.
He wasn't supposed to be wondering which emotions were real and for which Lois. Or if this was all supposed to end in a happily ever after. Did he get to have his Utopia, too? Was he meant to come back from the other universe? He only seemed to be ruining things and hurting people here. He wondered...
Clark swallowed. He wondered if he was even needed in this universe.
Needed...
<All I can really tell you is that Clark is needed back in his universe...>
Wells had said... he was needed. But...
That couldn't really be it, could it? Only a few days had passed between his return and Lois showing up in his bedroom...
Could it... had it been Lois who'd needed him to come home?
Clark took a deep breath and took the first step towards Lois. Then another. And another until he was standing behind her, his hand poised above her shoulder... longing, but terrified to touch her.
Hesitantly, he laid a hand on her shoulder. He felt her tense up. After a second, she relaxed, but not entirely.
"Lois?" He tried again, softer this time. He needed her to look at him. He needed to see her face, for her to see his eyes... then maybe, somehow, he could get her to see that it was her, not anyone else that he needed. *She* was the one he loved. And, to him, she wasn't nobody... she was everything.
"...to go," she whispered.
He couldn't have heard her right... His super hearing had kicked in too late. She hadn't said...
"I need to go," she repeated, a fraction louder this time, as she turned to look at him.
As quiet as her words were, they shouldn't have hurt so much. He shouldn't be feeling a stabbing pain in his gut. No. She couldn't leave. No. No. No. He shook his head, trying to think straight, but the dull throbbing wasn't helping. He'd ruined it. There had to be... He tried to swallow back the queasy feeling in his throat. There had to be some way he could convince her to stay.
He glanced back at her, his vision swimming a bit. She looked so... anguished. He'd hurt her that badly, hadn't he? His one chance to be happy... to be as close to normal as he could get...
Clark forced himself to focus. "Lois, I... you can't..." He shook his head and tried again. "I didn't mean for it to be like this. I just wanted..."
"What, Clark?" Her voice was still quiet. No hint of accusation this time... "What did you want?"
"I wanted..." He wished the pain in his chest would go away; she hadn't left yet. There was still hope. He searched her eyes for some sort of sign, something to tell him that even if she wanted to walk out the door, she wouldn't walk out of his life.
She was waiting... patiently waiting for him to say the right thing... or maybe she was waiting for him to say the wrong thing. So she wouldn't feel guilty for leaving.
"I..." He let out frustrated sigh. "Dammit." He ran agitated hand through his hair. "I can't..."
Why couldn't he speak? He was a writer. He'd spoken at press conferences. *Why*, when it was so important, couldn't he find the right words? And why was his head still swimming? He just had to *think*.
"I don't want you to go."
Her eyes wandered a bit before settling back to stare at him. Her brow furrowed. "Clark, I just have to... go. Away. I need some-"
Clark didn't let her finish. He grabbed her and kissed her soundly. He didn't want to hear it. He didn't want the words etched in his memory forever. Pulling back, he looked into her eyes. Surprise. No, it was shock. His fingers threaded through her hair, and he kissed her again, concentrating all his effort on making her *feel*. She had to know just how much he needed her. A small seed of hope planted itself in his chest when he felt her respond, when she started kissing him back with equal fervor. The connection... soared... or it seemed like it but for the biting pain still in his chest.
He pulled back again, searching her eyes once more for any hint of a chance. It was getting increasingly harder to breathe.
She opened her mouth to answer...
...and the door burst open. There was a sharp whack, wood splintering as it hit the wall.
Clark barely got a glimpse of the man standing in the doorway before the pain exploded, ripping through him. Shooting pains. Knives through his stomach.
He gasped for breath. His head throbbed violently. Oh, God, the pain. He clutched at his sides helplessly. Kryptonite. The floor came up to meet him in a rush, and his head crashed into the hard concrete.
Muffled voices. Far away. Threats.
And an echoing scream. "Clark!"
TBC...
