From Part 14:
“Coming back to Metropolis was a mistake,” he replied sadly, put down his pencil and leaned back in his chair. Lowering his voice to a whisper, he continued. “Ever since I entered the newsroom I’ve had to listen to two muggings, a car accident, a fire on the other end of town …” He fell silent and Lois felt that he had done so for her sake as much as his own.
As a reporter she knew how excruciating it was to watch or hear other people suffer without being able to do a thing about it. Lois experienced it every time she wrote an article about sick children or homeless people. Every time she was hoping against hope that she would somehow be able to make a difference in their lives; that she could push the politicians or companies who could help in the right direction. Too often her efforts were futile.
Lois gave Clark’s shoulder a squeeze to comfort him. At the same time she wondered if now would be a good moment to mention the hero again, the one who she was sure could solve so many problems not only for Clark but for Metropolis. Any other day, Lois would probably have jumped right into the conversation, but Clark had barely returned to her and the Daily Planet. His composure seemed still too fragile to risk it confronting him with his biggest fear. Lois had seen the look in his eyes when Luthor had been mentioned, that brief moment of panic before not Luthor himself but his assistant had entered the room where the press conference was being held.
“I’m beginning to wonder if maybe you are right,” Clark eventually said, much to Lois’ surprise. He sounded so weary that it cut right through Lois. Taking off his glasses, he rubbed the bridge of his nose and suddenly looked old far beyond his years. “This city is slowly killing me. Every time I listen to someone in need and do nothing about it, I die a little inside.” He leaned back in his chair and put his glasses back on. Yet, this was one of the few moments he did not hide behind them. “I cannot take this any longer, Lois,” he added quietly. “I barely sleep anymore, I’m running on empty and those few days I spent with my parents did not help in the least. If anything, it only made things worse.”
...I Knew The Truth
Part 15
That evening, Lois and Clark once again sat with the older Kents, this time around the dining room table. A steaming mug of tea had replaced the hot cocoa, as if somehow the beverage had to fit the conversation. Cocoa equaled revelation, tea equaled heated discussion – or so it seemed. After Clark had kind of made a decision concerning Lois’ suggestion of becoming a superhero, he had taken her to Smallville to introduce the idea to his parents. They had been addressing the pros and cons for a while now and Lois still had no idea what the result of this discussion was going to be. While the Kents liked the general idea that Clark wanted to stop running, they also feared for his safety.
“I don't know about this costume thing, Clark,” Jonathan Kent said for the umpteenth time, rolling the mug of tea between his hands.
“It'll work. It has to,” Clark replied, each time sounding a little less convinced and a bit more defensive. “If I have an effective disguise, I won't have to worry about people finding out about me. Maybe I’ll even be able to fool Luthor,” he added and it was clearly visible that he did not believe his own argument.
“It does not matter, whether Luthor recognizes him or not,” Lois joined the conversation. “Just like I said, even if he suspects the truth about Clark, he would not benefit from exposing him. What Clark might risk is confirming Luthor’s suspicions. Personally, I think Luthor will be a lot more careful this time to check the facts before he acts.”
“We’ll throw him a bone and hope that he’s going to take the bait,” Clark added with sudden eagerness, determination written all over his face.
“Throw him a bone?” Lois raised her brows in confusion.
“Yes, of course,” Clark insisted. “Luthor is nothing if not meticulous. He will want to know what he is up against. All he could possibly know is what Lana told him, which was not much to begin with. When he injured me, he learned that Lana had been wrong about at least one thing she told him,” he concluded almost triumphantly, obviously warming up to his topic. “I bet he’s going to test me – and start making mistakes.”
Leaning back in his chair, Clark looked at the three people around him. Not all of them seemed convinced, least of all Jonathan Kent, who visibly mulled over what Clark had just said. Lois felt an uncomfortable twitch in the pit of her stomach, suddenly not quite sure if proposing a costume for a superhero had been the right thing to do. Strangely, the more Clark liked the idea, the less optimistic Lois felt about it. She feared that he was getting his hopes too high. There still lay a rocky road ahead of them.
Martha Kent was the only one who did not look back at Clark, dazed. She stood, almost the same look of determination on her face that had been on Clark’s. In that moment they were so much alike that it was hard to believe she was not his biological mother. She was the living proof that parental care was much more important than genetics.
“Come on. Let's get started,” Martha said, effectively ending any further argument.
“But Martha …” Jonathan tried one last time.
“The way I see it, we either watch our son run for the rest of his life, or we help him fight his demons,” Martha declared. “We did not raise him to sit by idly while other people suffer. So we shouldn’t expect him to do just that.” That said, Martha turned on her heels and left the kitchen, quickly making her way upstairs, Clark following in her wake.
Lois watched them leave, feeling slightly dazed. Truth be told, she had not expected to win her argument so effortlessly. Sure, they had talked about it, but in the end it had been almost too easy. So instead of enjoying her victory, she was beginning to wonder if all this was not some huge mistake that was going to cost them. Perhaps, she felt like that because she suddenly found herself alone in the kitchen with Jonathan Kent, the single person who still had reservations.
They shared a look and for long moments Lois feared that he was going to give her a piece of his mind. And he would be right to do so, after all Lois did not know the first thing about this family. She had done what she did best – dive right in without checking the water-level. Now that she had succeeded in convincing Clark, a million reasons came to mind why the whole thing was a bad idea.
Jonathan Kent still held her gaze and took a large sip of his tea.
“I guess, she’s right,” Jonathan finally said with a sigh. “You know, it’s my fault that Clark has always been this lonely. I was afraid for him when we learned about his powers. Martha told you, how we found him. Federal agents snooped around a few days after his ship crash-landed on Shuster’s field. To investigate the meteorite that went down over Smallville they said.” A deep, rumbling laugh shook his large frame, so short and mirthless that he did not need to elaborate on what he thought about that. “There were too many agents and too few scientists on the scene, if you ask me,” he continued and took another large sip of his tea.
For long moments, he fell silent, staring into space. It was one of the few times that Lois did not know what to say. In the eerie silence of the kitchen, other sounds became incredibly loud – the ticking of the clock on the wall, the soft whir of a sewing machine that Martha Kent used upstairs, her own heart-beat that was pumping her blood with ever increasing speed.
“Weeks went by but nobody came for Clark,” Jonathan eventually continued and Lois flinched as she suddenly heard his voice again. “We relaxed a bit, but there was always this fear that somebody knew that it had been a little boy instead of a meteor who had dropped from the sky. While Martha had her hands full caring for this small life, I spent long hours on the field thinking about the future. I was afraid that someone would make the connection and take Clark away from us.”
Jonathan took a deep breath. “When Clark was older, I kept warning him not to show any of his special talents, else someone was going to take him away from us and dissect him like a frog.” His gaze once more rested on Lois. “It was not exactly fair of us to install certain ethics in him and at the same time expect that he watches other people suffer when he would be able to make a difference,” Jonathan concluded thoughtfully.
He fell silent again, leaving Lois the time to mull that over. She certainly understood Jonathan Kent’s motivation to warn his son. Knowing that the first person Clark had entrusted his secret to had reacted like she had, explained a lot about Clark’s reservations in letting other people know about him. It was a dangerous secret to reveal. People were afraid of others because of less – like having a different skin color or believing in another deity. Given what Clark was capable of – might be capable of if it was not for his kind heart – people had every reason to fear him.
Her conscience screamed at Lois that she was making the worst mistake of her life. What made her believe that a simple costume, no matter how sophisticated, was enough to keep people from recognizing Clark? How could she expose the man who had saved her life and was quickly becoming a friend? What did she think endangering his parents like this – because, just like Clark had said, Luthor knew where they were living.
Lois suddenly felt like the enormity of the possible consequences for Clark was going to suffocate her. Mumbling something that could be taken for an excuse, she got up from her chair and stumbled upstairs, following Clark and Martha and the constant whir of the sewing machine. The upper floor was dark but for a thin light that shone from underneath the door to the master bedroom. Lois slowed down and let her hand sink that was already touching the handle.
Facing this renewed conversation, she suddenly did not feel so sure anymore. What would Clark and Martha say? Would they listen to her after she had practically done everything in her power to convince them this was a good idea? Lois took a few deep breaths, trying to fight down her nervousness. The sewing machine went silent and Lois heard her own breathing like strikes of thunder.
“What about that one?” Martha’s voice was muffled by the door. She sounded tired and drained. Looking at her watch, Lois found that more time had passed than she had thought.
“I don't know,” Clark replied hesitantly. “It's certainly colorful.”
Unable to wait any longer, Lois knocked at the door.
“Come on in,” Martha invited her.
As Lois stepped into the room, she saw a pile of different fabrics lying around on the bed. There were also some outfits sprawled out. Martha was half lying, half sitting on the bed, a measuring tape draped around her neck. She looked rather spent and gave Lois a weak smile, before her attention turned towards the bathroom door just a moment before Clark stepped out. Her eyes widened immediately and she sat up straight.
Lois’ own breath caught as she saw him clad in blue spandex with a long red cape, red boots and bright red briefs with a yellow belt. The fabric was so tight that it enhanced every inch of his amazing physique. Lois’ eyes barely made it up to his face.
“What do you think?” Clark asked. A frown creased his forehead as he looked at himself in the mirror. He took off his glasses to study the effect.
“One thing's for sure,” Martha muttered, her eyes resting in the same region that Lois could not help but focus on. “Nobody's going to be looking at your face.”
“Mom!” Clark exclaimed, his expression turning stern. He crossed his arms in front of his chest.
The effect was amazing. His whole stance slowly turned into that of a stranger. Lois felt like she was looking at him for the first time. Only the slightly wavy hair and that stubborn lock that always fell into his face reminded her of the old Clark.
“Well, they don't call them tights for nothing,” Martha replied with a chuckle and got up to have a closer look at her son. “I don't know...” she muttered to herself. “…something's missing. Something...”
Suddenly Martha’s eyes lit up and she turned around to kneel before the bed. She bent forward to look underneath, a smile playing around her lips. Moments later, she pulled a large trunk out from under the bed and opened it. It was stuffed to the hilt with old photos and other mementos, one of them a neatly wrapped dark blue baby blanket. Martha unfolded it, revealing a diamond shaped sign with a red rim and a red “S” on a yellow background.
“I'd forgotten about that,” Clark muttered reverently as he looked at the blanket, the same sparkle in his eyes that was in his mother’s.
“The blanket we found you in… so long ago,” Martha replied and held the sigil on the baby blanket in front of Clark’s chest.
It was as if the last part of the puzzle suddenly just fell into place. Lois knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was right. No, it was not just right, it was perfect. Clark was no longer just clad in a costume; he had become a symbol of hope, someone everybody was going to look up to.
“You look amazing,” Lois breathed, still mesmerized by the diamond shaped symbol that was going to be so much more than a patch on a blanket.
“Your parents would have been proud of you,” Martha added, her cheeks glowing. “We are.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Clark said, seeming a little insecure. He turned and looked at himself in the mirror. “I'm not sure about the cape.”
“Really?” Martha sounded surprised. “I love it.”
“It'll look great when you're flying,” Lois confirmed eagerly.
“The only thing we need to decide now is what kind of mask you’re going to wear,” Martha mused aloud, still working on the blanket. She walked over to her sewing machine, eying the remaining fabric.
“I don’t think he should wear a mask,” Lois chimed in. “People are going to believe he’s got something to hide. They’re going to wonder what he’s looking like without one. No, I think it’s better if he hides in plain sight.”
Martha and Clark both raised their brows in disbelieve. “What if someone recognizes Clark?” Martha asked.
Lois just shook her head. “I don't think they will…” she insisted, remembering her own insecurities about this and how quickly they had been brushed away when she had first seen Clark in his guise. “…because it won't be Clark.”
“I won’t let anything happen to you guys,” Clark said solemnly.
Martha gave her son a warm smile and ran her hand through his hair. “Oh, honey, it’s not us I’m worried about. I’m afraid what will become of your life if the world finds out.”
“It doesn’t really matter anymore, Mom,” Clark replied seriously. “Lois is right – the way things are now I don’t have a life, I just hide myself away and slowly die inside. I can’t go on like this. Going public is a risk I have to take if I ever want to change anything.”
Lois was surprised when she realized that Clark was a lot less optimistic about his role as a future hero than she had thought he was. She had come upstairs to warn him of the potential risks, but upon seeing him had completely forgotten about that. Now, she became aware how naïve she had been to believe that she had actually convinced Clark of her idea. The truth of the matter was that he had simply given in, not necessarily to her constant nagging but more to the onslaught of his senses and the hopelessness of his situation.
“I don’t believe anyone is going to recognize Clark,” Lois repeated, her voice sounding a little weak in her own ears. “This is going to work,” she emphasized, a tiny voice in the back of her mind adding <It has to.> She kept that to herself and gave a short nod into Clark’s and Martha’s direction, then she left the bedroom and made her way back downstairs.
Her gut was tied in knots. One part of her wished that Clark would back off in the last moment; the other prayed that the whole hero idea was going to be a success. Having to wait was the hardest part. She wanted to be over and done with it, no matter the consequences, just like ripping a band-aid off. Even worse was, that she could do nothing to help the events unfold in their favor. Lois had hardly ever felt so helpless. Staying with the Kents only made matters worse. What were they going to say if her idea destroyed their son?
Feeling numb, Lois sank onto the couch next to Jonathan Kent, who had switched on the TV and was watching the news. Lois barely paid attention to the screen in front of her, too occupied with her own thoughts. A short while later, Martha and Clark joined them in the living room.
Jonathan looked over his shoulder and smiled as he saw Clark in his brand-new and now complete costume. “That’s my boy,” he said proudly.
Lois felt her stomach lurch in panic. Who was she trying to fool; of course people were going to recognize her partner. She should have insisted on a mask! But before she could say anything, the anchorman reported about a major landslide in South Asia. In the blink of an eye, Clark was gone.
Martha and Jonathan looked at each other slightly concerned, but gave in to their fate. Soon the three of them were watching Clark as he dragged people out of the mud and flew them to a safer place. Soon after that, the news reported that he had rescued an airplane from crashing into the Pacific. It did not take long for the news about the mysterious red and blue Superhero to be broadcasted on every channel the Kents could switch to. And just like Lois had predicted, nobody seemed overly scared. Clark’s actions spoke for themselves.
While Clark was obviously enjoying himself immensely, he also was a bit camera shy. Most of the pictures that were taken of him showed nothing but a blur. Martha and Jonathan Kent seemed relieved that there were only a few good photos of their son. However, none of those pictures showed any resemblance with Clark.
The torrential rain of the monsoon in South Asia combined with wind and mud had slicked back Clark’s hair and made it seem a lot darker than it really was. Gone was the stubborn lock that softened his features. There was a sparkle in his eyes that Lois had never seen before; born of the deep satisfaction being able to help brought him. His eyes appeared larger without the heavy frames in front of them, more intense, more mesmerizing. Clark’s stance was completely different, straight and proud, which added at least four inches in height. This was not the same man.
to be continued...
