It was one of the worst nights of Lois' life. It might have taken the prize for the worst, if she hadn't already lived through a night where she thought Clark had been murdered right before her waking eyes. Lois tossed and turned for hours. When she did sleep, it was in short, fitful bursts and filled with nightmares. The worst of them featured Clark's death. In others, she frantically looked for a cure, but she was never sure what exactly it was that she was looking for - some vial of medicine to heal him, some surgery to remove what was killing him, some treatment option that provided him some measure of comfort while his body fought off the infection. And, in a rare few, Clark recovered but their relationship did not.
In some of those dreams, Clark gloated over having kept her in the dark about his dual identities. In others, her insecurities - now heightened by the fact that Mayson had discovered the secret first - destroyed her ability to trust herself, her feelings, or even Clark. In one, the world found out that Clark Kent was the Man of Steel, and no one was silent about their disbelief that he could have chosen Lois - someone so beneath him, so unintelligent and blind as to be completely unworthy of him.
When she finally abandoned her bed only a few short hours later, she was more exhausted than when she'd gone to bed. To combat her lingering sleepiness, she downed three stronger than usual cups of coffee, all before calling Perry to get both Clark and herself out of work for the day. She made up a lie that they were both unwell - possibly from something they'd eaten - and shuffled her way into the shower. She purposely kept the water colder than normal, shocking her tired body into wakefulness.
As she mindlessly went about her usual morning routine - drying off, getting dressed, doing her hair and makeup - her thoughts constantly strayed back to Clark and everything she'd learned last night. For the first time, she really and truly had a chance to begin processing it all. And, more importantly, how she felt about it all.
There was the obvious, of course. She was hurt. Deeply and truly hurt that Clark hadn't come to her with his secret. Admittedly, she could get on board with the idea that he'd wanted to give her a chance to love him for Clark, and not for not Superman and his powers. It was, after all, no secret that Lois Lane had been on a quest to become Superman's girlfriend, back when the hero had first come flying onto the scene. But they were well past that time now. She'd given up the Superman fantasy a long time ago, and Clark knew that she loved him with all her heart. But he'd still chosen not to trust her. Did he really doubt her feelings?
No, she decided. He doesn't doubt me. He's trusted me with every other part of his life and heart. But why then, didn't he just come out and tell me the whole truth?
Could it really be as simple a thing as him not having the courage to broach the subject?
That stirred the hurt in her heart. He'd shared every other deeply personal and potentially embarrassing secret he had. But this? This wasn't some embarrassing secret. This was something to be proud of! He was Superman, for crying out loud! A singularly bright beacon of hope and justice in a sometimes all too dark and unfair world. How could he be ashamed of all the good he'd done for the world?
Or...was he?
After all, he'd always seemed so confident and at ease with being Superman. And although he'd always been modest about Superman's accomplishments when he'd shared the stories he'd "happened upon," he'd never appeared to be embarrassed over what the hero had managed to do. Oh, sure, there had been times when he'd tried to downplay Superman's victories but that had always been because...
"Oh no!" Lois groaned. "It's my own fault! I always drooled over Superman like a lovesick schoolgirl. I always shoved Clark to the side and even compared him to Superman...and not in a good way. No wonder why he was uncomfortable with me knowing the secret. I mean, I always knew he was in some kind of bizarre competition with Superman, especially in trying to win my attention. And I knew it made him feel kind of...sad, I guess is the word. Now it makes sense. The whole time, he was competing against himself...and losing for much of that time."
Losing to himself.
It was a powerful thought that rooted her to the spot and rendered her temporarily unable to focus on any other thought.
Yes, in her eyes, Clark had constantly lost to the hero. But only now did she realize that she'd allowed the real man to lose out to someone who didn't exist. And she knew, without a doubt, that Clark was the real person - the person who powered the character in the cape. After all, she'd met his parents, had seen his baby photos, had seen the awards he'd won - academic, athletic, and professional alike. She'd even seen him filing his taxes. Clark was the one who opened the door for her at four in the morning when she excitedly rushed to him with a new lead on a story or was too afraid of something to sleep at her own place. Clark was the one who'd so often cooked for her, or brought her coffee, or good-naturedly teased her.
But Superman? Superman ceased to exist as soon as a crisis was over. He didn't have an apartment or a social security number. He didn't eat hotdogs from street vendors or laugh at cheesy old movies. He wasn't the one who was there to receive her with open arms and a smile at odd hours of the morning when she needed him. And he certainly didn't let anyone - Lois or not - into his heart.
"I really screwed things up," she softly lamented as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. "Oh, God, did I screw things up. After all I've done, can I really blame him for not being enthusiastic about telling me about Superman?"
Unbidden, her mind flashed back to just after Superman's first rescue. She'd been describing the hero while Clark looked on. She'd made comparison after comparison between Superman and Clark. One particularly cruel remark stuck out in her mind. "Not dull, insipid mud brown, like Clark's" she'd said of Superman's eyes. She winced at the memory.
"I'm so sorry, Clark," she whispered to the empty air around her. "I was too stupid and too blind to see what was right in front of me. Not your secret. But how truly wonderful you are...how much better than Superman you are." She paused for a moment, thinking. "I just wish I'd known. I wish you'd told me or I'd been smart enough to see it for myself. How could I have missed it?"
How indeed?
How many times had Clark dashed off with a poor excuse - or none at all! - only to have the hero appear as soon as he was out of sight? How many times had Superman tried to steer her affections toward Clark? How many times had Superman taken the time to point out all of Clark's good points? How many times had Clark said something to her, only to have the hero reiterate it some time later, knowing that if Superman said it, Lois might actually listen?
How had she been so stupid as to be fooled by a pair of glasses and a change in wardrobe? After all, while Clark put on a different persona for the world when he was in the blue, red, and yellow, he'd always been much the same to her, personally. In both his roles, he'd always been the perfect gentleman, the caring friend, the one person who could tease her without making her feel bad about herself.
"God, I'm such an idiot!" she chided herself, so upset that she couldn't bear to look a herself in the mirror.
Anger started to creep into her heart, trying to push the hurt to one side. She let the emotion drench her, knowing it would be worse if she tried to bottle it up. How dare he lie to her every single day, almost since the moment they met! How dare he date her without divulging his secret life to her! How dare he let Mayson - once Lois' sworn enemy - know without letting Lois in on things too!
Hot tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. Angrily, she wiped them away, hating the fact that her raging emotions were making her cry. Lois took a deep, steadying breath as she fought to master herself. Slowly, she let that same breath back out, releasing some of her anger along with it.
"It's not like he's a criminal or doing something terrible," she finally admitted. "It's not like he's anything like Lex. Clark is doing something good for the world. He's putting criminals away, helping out charities, giving hope to people, saving lives. Can I really fault him for being Superman?"
She shook her head. No, of course not. Superman was the best thing that had ever happened to the planet.
"He's given so much of himself to the world," she realized, "and has never asked for anything in return. Not praise. Not recognition. Not awards. Nothing. In fact, the only thing I've ever heard him truly desire was to spend more time with me. Something so mundane and normal that it's..." She stopped herself. "Normal. Something he can't do as Superman. No wonder why he kept the secret so closely guarded from the world."
She looked up and stared at her reflection. "If anyone knew...if even one person found out and slipped - intentionally or not - his personal life would be destroyed. He'd never be allowed to do anything normal ever again. He'd be mobbed by everyone - there's no way he'd be able to hold a job, date, or even go to the store. He wouldn't be allowed to live his life as Clark anymore."
It was a sobering thought. Of course, Lois knew she would never tell a soul about Clark's dual identities. But the power of the secret she held was humbling and terrifying. It threw Clark's fears into sharp clarity for her. Ashamedly, she knew that, in the early days of their relationship, when Clark was an unwanted partner and Superman had been both a fantasy and her ticket to the Pulitzer, she wouldn't have been able to keep the secret. It would have been Page One news, that the mysterious new superhero was nothing more than a farm-raised country bumpkin. There was no doubt in her mind that she would have drowned in the awards that story would have netted her. But now she realized just how devastating the consequences would have been to the best man she'd ever known.
"I'm glad I didn't know back then," she told herself. "But I still wish he'd trusted me sooner than he did."
From the living room, she heard the clock softly chime, startling her out of her thoughts. She swiftly finished with her makeup and left her bedroom. While the coffeemaker brewed another vital mug of strong coffee, she picked up the phone and, with shaking fingers, dialed the Kents.
"Hello?" came the sleepy voice of Martha.
"Mrs. Kent? It's Lois."
"Lois?" Instantly, the older woman sounded awake. Something about Martha's voice and the brief silence that followed screamed concern to Lois. "Is there something you needed?"
"I...uh...I'm not sure how to tell you this. Uh...Clark..."
"What's wrong?" Dread dripped from her words.
"He's sick. He's...he's at the hospital. Metropolis General, to be exact. And...I know how that sounds. I know he shouldn't be sick, ever."
"I'm not sure what you mean, dear." The words were obviously chosen with care.
"Mrs. Kent...Martha," Lois corrected, remembering how the woman was forever asking Lois to use her first name. "I know about Clark. I know what he does in his spare time. I...I found out last night, when a mutual friend of ours called me for help."
"Mayson?" That was Jonathan.
"Clark told you that she knew," Lois breathed as the knowledge sank in. It made sense. Clark was the typical good son who hid nothing from his parents. He'd probably wanted their opinion on what to do.
"Mmm-hmm," Jonathan replied. "I'm sorry, Lois. He told us not to say anything to you."
"I get it," Lois replied. "The thing is...the doctor...Superman's doctor, Bernard Klein? He's not sure what's wrong with Clark. He thinks...he thinks he picked up some kind of Kryptonian disease somehow. He's not sure how or where. He's not even sure how to fight it. And Clark...he's...he's not in good shape right now."
"Oh, God," came Martha's tear and fear choked reply. "We'll be out there as soon as we can."
Lois shook her head, even though the two kindly farmers couldn't see it. "I'm not sure that's the best thing to do. He's at the hospital as Superman. If you two went to see him..."
"It would blow his cover," Jonathan said thoughtfully.
"Yeah."
"Have you seen him?" Martha wanted to know.
"Yes," Lois said with a nod. "Last night. Dr. Klein knows that Superman and I are friends. He didn't question why I was with him when the ambulance picked Clark up or when I followed it to the hospital."
"Is he going to be okay?" It wasn't so much a question as it was a plea.
Lois hesitated. She didn't want to scare Martha, but she didn't want to offer false hope either.
"Dr. Klein is doing everything he can," she said.
"We're coming out there," Jonathan said decisively. "Even if we can't go to the hospital, we'll be there when he's released."
"I think Clark would love that," Lois said with a sad smile. "Do you have the key to his place?"
"We have a copy of it," Jonathan assured her.
"Good. I'll...I'll try to come by, once you've arrived and update you on whatever I can."
"Are you...going to the hospital today?" Martha asked.
"I'm heading out in a few minutes."
"Tell him...tell him we love him," Martha said. Lois didn't need to see the woman's tears to know she was crying.
"I will," she promised. "I'll take good care of him for you."
"Thank you," Martha whispered.
"Call me when you get to Metropolis," Lois said. "Did Clark give you my cell number?"
"Yes and we will," Jonathan said. "Lois?"
"Hmm?"
"Thank you, for letting us know. And, for the record, Martha and I are glad you know about our boy. He's talked about wanting you to know for a long time now. He's loved you since the beginning. He was just afraid of what his secret might do to your relationship."
"I know," Lois said, feeling a lump form in her throat. "He's a good man. I'm not surprised that he's given himself over to fighting for justice the way he has. I...we have a lot to talk about once he's well but...I want you to know...I love your son very much."
She could all but hear Clark's parents smiling. "That makes us so happy," Jonathan said. "We'll see you soon."
"Bye," was all Lois could manage.
She heard the phone click as the phone connection was severed. Dazed, she hung up the receiver. That had been harder than she'd anticipated. Jonathan and Martha Kent were such wonderful people. They didn't deserve a phone call telling them that their only child was laying in a hospital with a serious illness than no one knew how to cure. They didn't deserve the possibility that their son would die.
Her coffeemaker beeped, letting her know that her caffeine fix was ready. She poured the black liquid into the largest travel mug she owned and swiftly prepared it to her liking. She made her way to the living room and sat down on the couch just long enough to stuff her feet into her favorite pair of sneakers. She shrugged into the coat she'd left draped over the back of the couch and grabbed her coat. Yawning as she rode the elevator down, she made the decision to hail a cab. She was simply too tired to drive.
She arrived at the hospital less than forty-five minutes later, with a burned mouth from sipping too quickly from her travel mug. It was all she could do to keep her poise as she made her way through the halls, each step taking her closer to Clark. Every second felt vital to her, as though her presence in Clark's room could cure him, or, at the very least, keep his illness at bay so he could find some relief. When she finally made it to his room, it took all her willpower not to gasp in horror as she laid eyes on him.
Somehow, Clark looked even paler, weaker, and sicker than he had during the night.
Dr. Klein was with him, so she dared not barge straight into his room like she'd envisioned she would.
"Thanks, doc," Clark wheezed.
"I'll be back in a bit, after I run these tests," Dr. Klein assured him. He paused to squeeze Clark's shoulder. "We're going to figure this out, I promise."
Clark nodded, but Lois' practiced eye saw that the move wasn't sincere. Maybe he still had some hope of getting better, but that hope lacked its usual steadfast conviction.
"Hi, Lois," the doctor said soberly as he neared the door.
"Morning, Dr. Klein," she offered in response. "How is he?" She couldn't help but to ask the question that was burning a hole in her mind.
"Not well," he replied with the shake of his head. "I've done everything I can think of to lower his temperature, but the fever refuses to break. At least its stopped climbing. I was getting worried that it would just keep going up. But I would feel a lot better about things if I could just find a way to help him get cooler."
"What about his super breath?" Lois asked as the idea shot into her mind. She'd seen him ice down things with no more than a burst of his breath on several occasions.
Dr. Klein shook his head again. "I thought of it too. But, whatever this illness is, it's robbed him of his abilities."
"You mean he...?" She couldn't quite finish the thought.
"I got this from him without needing any...help," Dr. Klein said vaguely, holding up a couple of small vials of blood for testing.
Lois felt the blood draining from her face. "Oh no," she moaned.
This was bad. This was so much worse than she'd feared. Clark without his powers never boded well.
For the first time, she felt certain that she'd actually lose him.
"I have to run this to the lab," Dr. Klein said, by way of an excuse to leave. "You can visit, but he's pretty weak and needs to rest often."
"Don't worry. I won't do anything to jeopardize his recovery," she vowed.
"I'll be back if and when I have news."
With that, the kindly doctor strode away. Lois didn't even watch him go. Her attention was solely focused on Clark. She stepped through the doorway and into his room, closing the door gently behind her. He gave her a smile when she turned back around to him.
"Lois," he said. "You have no idea how good it is to see you. I was afraid you might..." He let his thought trail off into non-existence.
"I told you I'd come," she said softly, giving him a smile of her own, despite the dread in her heart. "How are you feeling today?"
"Honestly? Worse than last night," he said bluntly as she as moved to his bedside. He took her hand in his own. "I just want to be well and be home."
"I know," she said, smoothing his sweat-soaked hair back and away from his forehead, maintaining the look of Superman and hopefully cooling his body, even if only by the slightest degree. But what truly surprised her was the wave of heat she felt radiating from his skin, even without direct contact between her hand and his forehead. It was decidedly worse than the previous night. "I know," she repeated. "And you will. Soon."
"I hope so," he whispered.
Silence fell, making Lois uncomfortable. That was odd - feeling uncomfortable in front of Clark. She'd never felt that way before - not even during the awkwardness of him asking her out on a date for the very first time. No, uncomfortable was definitely a new emotion to connect to Clark. Even when they'd first met and Lois had been completely hell-bent on hating him and chasing him away, she'd felt completely confident in her dealings with him. As they'd become friends, she'd let him see every aspect of herself - the hard-bitten newshound, the vulnerable and lonely woman, the playful friend, even the jealous lover. Never once had she felt uncomfortable though.
But right now, she was. Because she knew she was lying to him. Or, at least, she was fairly certain she was. Even if he did recover, it could take days, maybe weeks before his health returned. If he recovered. Right now, looking at him, she wasn't sure if that would happen. Whatever he had, it was killing him, and fast. She didn't need a medical degree to see how much devastation it had already wrought on his body.
"I called your parents," she admitted after a minute. She let go of his hand long enough to sit down in the bedside chair.
"How'd they take things?"
"They're coming out to Metropolis."
"No," he groaned, his eyes closed.
"Don't worry. I talked to them about it. They won't come here. They just want to be nearby, you know? They want to be here for when you get better."
"What if I don't?" he said, his voice barely more than a sigh.
"You will."
"But if," he pressed.
Lois shook her head firmly. "No. I'm not discussing this with you. I don't care what I have to do, but I will help find a way to get you well again."
Clark gave her a tiny, playful grin. "Does that mean you still love me?"
That broke some of the tension in the room. Lois laughed.
"Yeah, you lunkhead. I still love you."
"Can I still finally give you an answer to your proposal?" he teased.
That made Lois' heart ache with sadness. What if he never became her husband? Did she even want that right now, before they'd had a chance to work through all the ramifications of Clark's lies? Instead of answering directly, she gave his hand a squeeze.
"There will be plenty of time for that later," she promised.
It wasn't the answer he'd been hoping for. She couldn't miss the fleeting disappointment in his features. Wordlessly, he nodded once.
"My parents," he said after a few moments. "This is going to be hard on them, not being able to come here."
"I'll take care of them. I promise."
"I appreciate that. And I know they will too."
He tried to bite back a cough and failed. A harsh fit of coughing overtook him for two or three long minutes. Lois watched helplessly as his whole body tensed and spasmed against the assault. She could hear the mucus in his lungs as a sucking, wet sound as his body tried to rid itself of both it and the germs that had caused it. When the fit was finally over, Clark sagged back into his pillows, ashen faced and gasping for breath.
"How do people...deal with this...on a regular...basis?" he managed to jokingly ask between heaving gasps.
"We're tougher than we look," Lois laughed, though her heart wasn't in the joke at all. She was too scared for it to be. "Especially us women." She winked at him.
Clark chuckled lightly. "No argument here," he replied.
"Now that is a good sound," came Mayson's voice from the doorway. As Lois had, she was sure to close the door as soon as she was in the room. "Feeling any better?" she asked Clark.
"I wish," Clark said.
"Sorry I'm late," Mayson apologized. "Something came up. Thankfully, I was able to get it sorted out over the phone. My new receptionist is a bit of a disaster."
"It's no problem," Clark said. He started to cough again.
Lois got up and checked the pitcher on the table. It was empty. She lifted the pink piece of molded plastic.
"I'll be right back," she promised.
"Thanks," Clark said gratefully.
She quickly left the room and ventured down the hall to the ice machine. Filling it halfway with the crushed ice, she turned to the water dispenser. A few other people were in the little break room area, but she kept her head down and didn't speak. With the pitcher full, she jammed the lid on and hurried back down to Clark's room.
"Thanks, Mayson," she heard Clark say as she entered his room.
"Anytime."
"I'm back," Lois lamely announced. "What'd I miss?" she half joked.
God, I'm still jealous of this woman! she realized as her mind wondered what Clark had been thanking her for.
"Not much," Mayson offered.
"Mayson keeps me up to speed on certain cases," Clark explained. "Nothing that oversteps confidentiality laws, of course. But sometimes there's more I can do, even after I've made a rescue or captured a criminal."
"Like what?" Lois asked, growing curious, though she realized the question sounded almost like a challenge. She moved to Clark's table and poured him a cup of water. She held it while he sipped through a straw.
"Thanks," he said when his thirst had been abated. He thought for a moment. "Well, to answer your question," he said as Lois sat back down in her seat, "sometimes I might find out that a man stole in order to afford medicine for a sick kid, or to ensure that he could put food on the table. Or maybe a victim of an assault can't afford her medical expenses. Things like that. I take some of the information back to the Superman Foundation - things like the person's name and address and what they need - and the board uses some of the donation money to help the person in need. Mayson was just letting me know about one such case, that's all. Although, I guess it might be awhile, if at all, before I get a chance to pass along the information."
"Oh," Lois said, blushing. She felt just awful for being suspicious of Mayson yet again.
"You still don't fully trust me," Mayson observed neutrally.
"I'm sorry," Lois apologized. "It's just...I thought you hated Superman. You certainly oppose his actions every time I see your name in the news."
"She has to," Clark supplied with a slight shrug.
"I'm not sure I follow," Lois said.
"Mayson has always been a voice of dissent when it comes to Superman. It would be too suspicious if she suddenly became his champion. People would question it."
"It's part of how I've chosen to protect Clark. I don't want anyone making any connections about how, shortly after I tried to get involved with Clark, my attitude toward Superman softened," Mayson added. "And...if we're being completely honest, a part of me will always oppose vigilante justice in any form...even if it's exactly the kind of help this world needs. It's the lawyer in me." She couldn't - or wouldn't - quite meet Lois' eyes.
"In public, Mayson's kept her same, unchanging stance on the whole Superman thing," Clark said. "In private, she's become Superman's friend and ally."
Lois slowly nodded as she thought it over. "I guess it makes sense on some level," she admitted. "Still...I just can't understand how anyone in the field of law and law enforcement could ever oppose what Superman does." She made her tone light, as though she was joking, but deep down inside, she was completely serious.
Mayson declined to answer and Clark expertly guided the course of their small talk to other matters. But not for long. After only a short period of time, he began to speak less and less, until at last, while Lois and Mayson argued good-naturedly over some minor thing, he fell into an exhausted sleep. Mayson thought it best to take her leave then, so as not to disturb his rest, but Lois stayed on in a silent, thoughtful vigil.
To Be Continued...
