Delusions of Grandeur
Folc4evernaday
Chapter 8
***
Two Months Ago…Perry White’s warning rang through Jimmy Olsen’s mind as he watched from across the street as Alice White made her way through the crowd. After the fire, finding the original witnesses that had come forward before had been near impossible. When he’d attempted to reach out to the agent at Lexel Investments he’d reached a dead end when confronted with a new manager at the branch that claimed never to have heard of Lyle Thompson before.
John Black had disappeared from his old apartment building, but luckily his love of a specific brand of coffee had not changed. He’d been able to track his activity and find him on the east of Metropolis Bridge working as a manager at LexTel Communications. If he had to bet he’d say the new job was a bribe to silence John Black on his brother’s criminal activities.
Jimmy looked up at the familiar office building, surveying the rundown street he was on. His contact said John Black left every morning around this time to get his morning coffee. He looked over at the coffee cart where Alice White was standing in line next to the man he recognized as John Black.
***
Jack looked around the grounds nervously. The collar was too tight, and the jacket felt like it belonged on someone out of a Wimbledon ad. He was not the suit and tie type. He never had been. Yet somehow Olsen had talked him into this idiotic scheme to have Perry White enroll him in Westminster Academy.
‘It’s better than sleeping on a park bench,’ he thought to himself, climbing the steps to go to his first class. The school was massive, and he had no idea how he could arrange to accidentally run into Phillip Manning here, but he’d figure it out. After everything Clark had done for him the least he could do was help bring down the psycho behind his death.
He was a realist. He knew if Luthor said he’d killed him the chances were pretty high that he had. Lex Luthor wasn’t one to mince words. He knew Lois didn’t believe it—or didn’t want to believe it. He’d seen his own share of heartache in his young life but he knew prolonging the pain and holding onto false hope would only make it harder. It was better to accept what had happened. Lex Luthor had murdered Superman. It was up to them to prove it.
***
John Black backed away, looking around the crowded street he was on. How had they found him? He’d been so careful. He swallowed hard, staring at the older woman with bright blue eyes, waiting for a response from him. He nervously glanced over his shoulder, making sure that the woman from before wasn’t around. She said she’d be watching. If he slipped up, it would cost Pete his life. He couldn’t afford to even appear to be cooperating…
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said hurriedly, pulling the change out of his pocket to pay for his coffee, “Keep the change, Marta,”
The woman wasn’t to be deterred, following him down the steps that led to his office parking garage, “Really? You have no idea what I’m talking about? Then why do you keep looking over your shoulder, John?”
He instinctively looked over his shoulder once more to be sure he wasn’t being followed. “Stay away from me,”
“You’ve been threatened, haven’t you? That’s why you just looked again,” she said calmly, staring him down.
“Leave me the hell alone,” he snapped, glancing at the elevator a few feet away, “You have no idea what kind of trouble you’re stirring by being here.”
The woman remained calm, calling him out as he made his way to the elevators, “You’re scared, John, I get that, but if you would just…”
“I talk I die. Leave well enough alone, lady,” John barked, turning to face her. His face fell as he hissed out in a sharp whisper, “You think I want this? I am dead. My brother is dead. Everyone I care about…if I go anywhere near the police. Do yourself a favor and forget about the Planet bombing.”
“Staying silent isn’t going to do anything but continue to eat your conscience away, John. I know you’re scared, but we can help you. The longer you let them get away with intimidating you and those you love the more powerful you make them. How many people have to die before someone says enough is enough?” She asked.
***
Present Day…The drumming of raindrops against the wooden roof echoed throughout the bedroom. Clark could hear each pang of droplets beat above him. It was another day he was forced to remain inside. How much rain could flood from the sky in a week? It had been three days of nothing but clouded skies and thunderstorms, preventing him from taking in the sun’s rays he so desperately needed.
He stared up at the ceiling, hearing the light drum of rain above. It was strange, looking around at his surroundings and knowing he was no longer restricted to his room he still found himself unable to venture out of his room without prodding. Lois typically came to him, offering another meal that consisted of some form of peanut butter. If he weren’t still reeling from the last time he’d spoken with her, he’d beg for something different to eat.
That would require talking to her.
After his humiliation in the shower last week he couldn’t bring himself to say anything to her. He could barely look at her. It wasn’t just the bruised ego or having her see him in a state he never wanted anyone to see him in. It was everything.
His last conversation with her had been a fight over her marriage to Lex Luthor. The last time he’d seen her she had been ready to walk down the aisle to that monster and yet here she was. What had happened? He wasn’t sure how much he could trust her or open himself up to her.
He still wasn’t sure exactly where he was or how he’d gotten out of Dr. Kelly’s clutches. He was grateful for his newfound freedom—even if it came at the price of having lost his powers and the normal use of his muscular and possibly even his nervous system. The extent of the damage done wasn’t something he wanted to ponder on too deeply.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, doing his best to test the limits of his hearing once more. He could make out footsteps coming from the kitchen and cabinets opening and closing but nothing near the range he’d once been gifted. He felt his hand begin to shake and reached to stop it by holding his wrist with his other hand.
It was getting better. He could tell that at least. The intensity of the tremors wasn’t nearly as bad as they had been. The time between each episode seemed to be subsiding as well. He was doing his best to get as much sunlight as he could, but the current weather conditions weren’t helping.
He’d counted eight days since he’d woken up in the cabin with Lois. She remained distant. He couldn’t say he blamed her. After what had happened that first day he wouldn’t blame her if she never talked to him again. He couldn’t find it in himself to speak or respond to any attempt at the conversation she presented him with. It was too humiliating.
He never wanted Lois to see him like this. Broken and beaten down both emotionally and physically. He couldn’t even find the strength to walk across the room without nearly collapsing on top of himself. There were still so many questions he had for her, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask.
Why did she rescue him?
Where were they?
Was she still engaged to Luthor?
The last questions weighed more heavily on his mind than the others. After everything that Luthor had put him through, he couldn’t afford to let his guard down around anyone—even Lois.
A light knock came from the door, and he looked up, seeing Lois standing there in a faded sweatshirt and jeans, “Hey,” He looked up at her, unwilling to respond as he waited for her to just say whatever it is she had to say. She looked down for a moment, muttering something he couldn’t hear under her breath before looking up and saying, “So, I made some sandwiches. Peanut butter and honey.” She stopped for a moment, looking over at him with a concerned expression. “You like that, right?”
He just stared blankly at the ceiling, ignoring the question and hoping she would just leave. The longer she stayed there at the door, the longer he was reminded of that first day and the many fights they’d had leading up to his kidnapping and eventual torture. It was something he wished he could turn off but right now he couldn’t. Every time he looked at her all he could see was the oblivious woman that had broken his heart so completely.
<<“Clark, just know I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t have to,”>>
<<“Goodbye? We’re partners!”
“You don’t need a partner, Lois. You never did.”
“Maybe not, but I was starting to like having one.”>>
<<“Clark, what did they do to you?”>>
<<“I have been in love with you for a long time. You had to have known.”>>
<<“I know. I know. I’m so sorry, Clark,”>>
<<“If that’s what you want Lois then fine get in bed with the devil!”>>
<<“Clark, it’s okay, I’ve got you”>> “Right,” she muttered under her breath, “So if you’re hungry lunch is on the table.” With that she turned and left, leaving him there to dwell on his own thoughts.
***
The memory of the gunshot echoed in her eardrums as Mrs. Cox made her way through the warehouse, looking around at the crowd of barrels that had now taken up space in the once vacant space. She stared at the wall that had once led to the elevator and only entrance into LexCorp’s Applied Science Division. It was covered in brick and had recently been painted.
She stared at the once empty space, uncertain what to make of it. Nigel had disappeared. Dr. Gretchen Kelly’s body had been fished out of Hobb’s Bay, and she had yet to find the strength to tell Lex how it was her that had cost him his revenge on Superman.
It had been nearly a week and a half of lying low and hoping to hear from Nigel. Nothing. She had no way of knowing if she was safe to return to the Luthor penthouse or not. The longer she stayed away, the more certain she knew her fate was.
***
Lois stared across the table, watching Clark silently eat the sandwich she’d made. It was strange how the silence inside the cabin felt more isolating with him here than it had when it had just been her living here. She pushed her plate away, glancing across the table at him, hoping to catch his eye. Why wouldn’t he just look at her?
Was it really so hard?
“Um, I’ve got a call into Dr. Kahn to take a look at your hand. Make sure there isn’t anything more serious going on,” she said, hoping to jog some sort of reaction from him.
Silence.
“He’s supposed to be an excellent doctor. Bill Henderson said he’s helped hundreds of thousands of people the FBI had to keep in hiding.” She finished softly. That got a reaction. He stared at her for a long moment before turning away.
“Do you remember Bill?” she prompted, reaching her hand across the table to touch his hand only for him to jerk it away. She bit her lower lip, uncertain what to do. She could fly into a fit of anger and take it personally, or she could continue to wait. Her mind went back to that first night at the cabin when she’d been holding him down as Dr. Kahn plucked out each and every sample of dead tissue from his burns. As painful as the ordeal had been for her she knew it had to be even more painful for him.
He needed time. He had been through hell and back, and he needed time to adjust. She just needed to be patient with him. She swallowed the lump in her throat and grabbed a pen and pad from the drawer behind her. “Um, I’m going to try and go to the store later.” She pushed the list she’d made earlier toward him with the pen. “Do you want me to pick anything up?”
She stared at him, watching him read the list and then push it back toward her. She forced a smile, taking it from him, “Great,” she pointed outside. “Well, the rain’s letting up, so I guess I’ll go ahead and go.” She felt a pang in her chest as she rose from the chair, feeling his eyes on her as she left.
***
Two Months Ago…Lois Lane took a sip of the red wine in her glass, spinning it in her glass as she stared lazily off into space. Her hand instinctively went to her side, recalling the pain she’d endured at having almost died at the hands of Lex Luthor. He tried to kill her. He really tried to kill her. She was used to having criminals she was investigating or dirty politicians come after her, but it was a completely different experience to have someone she thought she knew betray her so completely. She felt numb inside, thinking of how many times she could have just once dug a little deeper and possibly saved herself the heartache and pain she’d been put through. Would it have saved her? Would it have saved Clark from whatever hell he was currently in?
Clark. That was an entirely different problem she didn’t know how to address. He wasn’t dead. She’d never been so relieved to get a visit from Jack Davenport. Clark wasn’t dead. Superman wasn’t dead. Which meant she now had to figure out how to find him and what to do when she did.
Truth be told she still wasn’t sure how she felt about the revelation. She knew she cared about both Clark and Superman in a way that made her question how she’d found herself saying ‘yes’ to Lex’s proposal in the first place. Was it fear? Was it Superman’s rejection? The isolation and hopelessness that had filled her days leading up to her eventual acceptance of Lex’s proposal weren’t something she liked to revisit but coming to terms with what had happened and what she’d allowed to happen was the only way she could move forward.
Lex had been playing her this entire time. Clark had seen it. He had tried to warn her, and she didn’t listen. Though most of his warnings were never followed up with anything substantial for her to look into. When pressed he never gave her any actual proof of Lex’s wrongdoings. He couldn’t provide a single example for her so she’d brushed it off as Clark being jealous or insecure. Why she’d allowed herself to continue to ignore the warnings without at least looking further or pressing Clark she didn’t know.
Throughout the entire time, she’d known Clark he had a knack for getting her to open up in a way she’d never done before. He knew things about her even Perry wasn’t privy to. She recalled her slip in the EPRAD warehouse where she thought she was going to die and found herself confessing her painful past with Claude to him. Lois hadn’t told anyone—even Lucy—what that rat had done, but she’d told Clark. She’d spent weeks on edge, waiting to hear the gossip but it never did. Little by little she found herself trusting him more and more. All the while, finding herself drawn further and further in. Little did she know the same man she’d confessed her crush on Superman to was the same man flying around in a cape and saving her on a regular basis.
On one hand, she was grateful he was there for her and had saved her life. On the other hand, she felt humiliated and betrayed. The closer they’d gotten in their partnership and friendship the days of her not being honest about a lead or giving him misinformation were gone. They were friends. Or at least she had thought they were. She trusted him with some of her deepest secrets, and it hurt that he couldn’t return the same trust.
How many times had he lied to her in order to cover up his secret? How many times had she called him out on his odd behavior or a lead that had just happened to land in his lap and have him blatantly deceive her? After everything she’d been through with Claude and Paul, it felt like another punch to the gut. But this hurt far worse because Clark’s betrayal hadn’t been something she could see coming. He was supposed to be her friend. He was supposed to be someone she could trust. He was supposed to be …Clark.
She should be angry.
She should be furious.
She should just walk away.
The problem was that required telling her heart to stop feeling what she was feeling. The reality was Clark had wormed his way into her heart and hurt her in a way no one ever had. He broke down her barriers and made her open up to him. Now here she was numb from the pain of realizing she was in love with her best friend who had been lying to her about everything from the beginning. Where did that leave her?
***
Lex Luthor sat back against the leather seat of his office chair, tapping against the leather with his fingertips. “It’s been a month, and they’re still holding onto this case like they expect it to resurrect itself.” He seethed angrily. “Mr. Talley is unwilling to close ranks with his people.”
“Do you want me to take care of the situation?” Nigel inquired from the speakerphone.
“No, I don’t think this one will bow down to our normal intimidation tactics, and it’s not like I can make the director of the FBI’s Special Crimes unit disappear. They would never let that go.” Lex muttered angrily, looking around the room impatiently. “Where is it you’ve gone off to anyway? It’s been two weeks since you took off. Don’t forget who signs your checks!”
“I’m handling a situation, Mr. Luthor,” Nigel assured. “Nothing to be alarmed about,”
“I need you back here,” Lex hissed. “I want to make sure there is no mistaking who is in charge here. Some of our lieutenants need reassurance you are still loyal to the organization.” He tensed, adding a sinister, “You are still loyal to me, aren’t you, Nigel?”
“Of course, sir,” Nigel responded. “I should return to Metropolis by the end of the week.”
“See that this time your flight information doesn’t get lost,” Lex growled angrily.
“I’ll be sure to confirm everything before I leave,” Nigel remarked before hanging up.
***
Nigel sat in the empty hotel room, looking through the information he’d uncovered. Mr. Luthor wanted him back in Metropolis, and he was still no closer to finding Lois Lane than he was before. He was faced with a dilemma. Tell Lex Luthor of his mishap and risk the wrath that could end him or continue the charade and secretly keep his investigation into her whereabouts going.
He knew which choice was safer yet the idea of leaving Kansas without any further information felt wrong. He looked at the map in front of him, uncertain where his next move would even be. He’d been staking out the Kent farm for two weeks, and no one out of the ordinary residents had come or left the farm. The neighbor Irig was making daily trips. The sheriff and the doctor. No one seemed nervous or out of place. What was he missing?
***
Present Day…The phone on her dashboard continued to ring, vibrating against the plastic surface. The humming of the engine drowned out the sound as the car jerked onto the highway, heading west of the river and farther and farther away from the reach of Alexander Luthor.
Mrs. Cox reached her hand up to brush the hair out of her eyes, staring at the road in front of her with determination. She couldn’t turn to Nigel. She couldn’t turn to Lex. She couldn’t turn to anyone. For the first time in a long time, she was alone.
***
Clark sat on the back porch, staring up at the sun. A privilege he’d been robbed of for who knows how long. It had been twenty-three days since he’d woken up in this cabin and found himself face to face with a very alive Lois Lane. Slowly but surely the tremors were subsiding. He still had moments where his legs would give out from under him, and he’d catch himself, but for the most part,, he felt stronger than he had before.
Lois Lane was alive.
How that was possible, he still wasn’t sure. He found himself, going over and over that night in his mind. He had seen the blood. There was no mistaking the certainty in Lex Luthor’s voice as he had taunted him with the gruesome details of her death over and over.
Nothing made sense and he still wasn’t sure how much he could trust her or how much she knew. He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he recalled her attempt to help him shave. Though his unshaven appearance must have seemed frightening to her, he found solace in hiding behind the beard and mustache that had begun to form. After having his secret exposed to his mortal enemy, he felt the need to hide away as much of the old Clark Kent as he could from peering eyes.
He hated who he had become.
Scared of his own shadow and unable to trust his own senses.
He still wasn’t sure how much he could trust Lois.
She was …different. Though she wore the same face and said the right things, he could tell there was something about her that had changed. She kept watching him and staring for long moments. The Lois Lane he knew could barely go a minute without talking, but this version of her was aloof and reserved. She was going out of her way to help him with simple tasks that he knew his Lois wouldn’t dream of doing. She never would have gone to the lengths that this Lois had. He still found himself unable to rationalize what had changed.
The Lois Lane he knew didn’t like guns. This one had a routine of having target practice by the creek. The Lois Lane he knew didn’t look at him like that. This Lois seemed to lose herself, staring at him as if he’d break. The Lois Lane he knew didn’t …
He could feel a lump form in his throat as he clamped his eyes shut, not wanting to think about that first day. Being unable to bathe himself due to captivity had been one thing, but the humiliation of having to have Lois help him with the task had been worse. She’d done it though. What he couldn’t figure out was why?
Never had she looked at him Clark that way. Not once had she shown this side of herself where he would have thought her capable of being anything but indifferent to him. Especially not after the words that were shared in their last fight about Luthor. Something had changed, and he couldn’t figure out what.
After all the mind games and tricks Luthor had stooped to to try and break him he knew it was dangerous to let his guard down. Still, he found himself enchanted by this new version of Lois that went out of her way to help him. That first day had been unbearable. He’d gone from being the strongest man in the world to being unable to control his body long enough to take a five-minute shower.
The saving grace in that moment was Lois giving him back some sense of dignity and keeping her back to him throughout the process. He’d come close to kissing her. When she’d fallen, trying to help him to the bed. That look she gave him sent a storm of emotion through him each and every time. He had seen that look before, but it had only been reserved for Superman. Now having her look at Clark that way was unnerving.
The old Lois Lane would have demanded he talk to her three weeks ago. She probably would have jumped into some tirade about how it made her look bad to have her partner impersonating a mute. He wasn’t sure how to react to this new aloof version of Lois Lane.
He could feel the sting from the sun’s rays on him and sighed, reaching for the t-shirt laying on the back of the chair he was sitting on. If he stayed out here any longer, he was going to get burnt. A few of the cuts and bruises had healed somewhat, but many of the scars remained. He wondered if his powers would ever return. If he would ever return to who he used to be.
He already knew the answer to the last question. There was no going back. Lex Luthor knew who he was and if Superman ever dared show his face again, he would be taken down with a single statement. His gaze drifted to the glass doors where Lois was sitting at the table, staring at him the way she always did.
He let out a muttered curse, grasping the side of the chair when he saw his hand tremor. ‘Calm down,’ he told himself.
A shadow washed over him, and he looked up to see a man in a black suit and tie standing over him with a crew cut haircut and piercing blue eyes. He flashed a badge at him with an ‘FBI’ identification card and a silver badge that read, ‘Federal Bureau of Investigation.’ Clark frowned, unsure who this unwelcome visitor was or what the FBI would be doing here.
“Jack Davenport,” he held his hand out for him to shake and Clark stared at it uncertainly. “I’m leading the FBI’s case against Lex Luthor.” His eyes narrowed as he took a seat across from Clark, “I hear you might be able to help.”
Clark stared back at him, uncertain how this Jack Davenport had found him or what the FBI was doing looking into Lex Luthor. He glanced back to the glass doors Lois had been sitting in front of a few moments ago. He frowned when he realized she was no longer there and turned his attention back to Jack Davenport.
“I still don’t understand why Lois won’t accept our help. She keeps insisting that she’s safer out of witness protection.” Davenport shrugged nonchalantly, prompting some sort of recognition from him, “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that your chances of surviving this trial go up when witnesses actually cooperate.”
Clark stared blankly at the man, uncertain how to respond. He turned to stare at him, silently sizing him up as Davenport continued the one-sided conversation. “I, uh, tried to give Lois the space she asked for, but we’re running out of time. Thanks to some dirty cops, the case against Lex Luthor relies solely on her testimony. Is there anything you could tell us that could help…”
Clark narrowed his eyes at him, “Testimony?”
“She didn’t tell you?” Davenport asked, his brow furrowing as he stared back at him in surprise. His voice lowered an octave, and he asked, “So what exactly is going on between you two anyway?”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Lois’ voice came from behind, and they both turned to see her standing with her arms crossed over her chest.
***
Lois stared out the window where Clark was sitting on the back porch. He hadn’t said anything more than a few words since that day he fell in the shower. It had been nearly three weeks, and she still hadn’t heard anything from Davenport on the officers that had ambushed her and Clark. They were so close to building this case against Lex and finally putting him behind bars.
The longer he was outside and absorbing the sun’s rays the better he seemed to be doing. Still, she tried to remain nearby in case he had another accident. It was unnerving to see him like this. She’d seen his hand tremor the first day and had seen the fear on his face. Whatever it was that he’d been put through it was enough to scare him. She couldn’t really blame him. It frightened her too.
The doctor said it looked like Clark had been put through electroshock and had signs of torture. His arms and ankles had ligature marks, and there were burn marks on his back and temple. Bluish markings around his wrists showed signs of a recent treatment that the doctor was sure he would recover from soon if the treatment were administered according to regulations.
She wasn’t so sure.
She was doubtful that the treatment Clark had been put through was anywhere near the standard regulations for patients. He seemed to know who she was and he appeared to know who he was, but for whatever reason, he refused to talk to her. He wouldn’t respond to any attempt at conversation, and even her vain attempts at getting him to crack a smile by joking about her lack of cooking skills were lost on him. She took a sip of her glass of water, uncertain how to break through the deafening silence that had fallen between them.
She got up, taking her glass to the sink to rinse it out. She took a deep breath, setting the glass down. A noise outside caught her attention, and she peered out the window to see Jack Davenport standing outside, talking to Clark. Anger flashed through her mind, recalling her plea for the FBI to leave her be. She didn’t want anyone pushing for information the way she knew the feds would.
She stepped outside and heard the tail end of the conversation between Davenport before jumping all over him. “Is there anything you could tell us that could help…”
“Testimony?” she heard Clark ask with a hoarse voice.
She felt a lump in her throat, angry that he would talk to Agent Davenport but not her. It had been almost three weeks, and she had yet to have him talk to her or even respond to her with more than a silent nod or shake of the head.
“She didn’t tell you?” Davenport asked, rubbing the salt into the wound that remained open before adding, “So what exactly is going on between you two anyway?”
Her painfully unsteady relationship with Clark wasn’t something she wanted to be discussed with anyone-especially, not the FBI. Anger flashed in her eyes as she growled out angrily, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Davenport flashed a weak smile on his face, “I was just updating Kent on the case…”
“Are you deaf?” she snapped irritably, throwing her arms in the air as she approached. “You can’t understand the meaning of the word, ‘no’?”
“This isn’t up to you, Lois,” Davenport cut her off, letting out a sigh, “We have a problem,”
“What kind of a problem?” Lois asked, seeing the uneasiness in Agent Davenport’s demeanor.
“Our guys lost Nigel St. John last night. We don’t know where he is.” Davenport responded solemnly.
“Nigel?” Clark spoke up, looking to Davenport in concern. “Lex Luthor’s manservant?”
Lois felt a pang in her chest, hearing him respond once more to Jack Davenport. Three weeks of nothing but nonverbal communication from him and yet one visit from the cocky, egotistical Agent Davenport and Clark had already spoken more to him than he had in the entire time he’d been with her.
“Among other things,” Davenport shrugged, “Professional assassin has been more his recent role in Luthor’s organization.” He narrowed his eyes at Lois, “You’re going to have to be prepared to move if we get wind of him heading in this direction.”
“Move where?” Clark asked.
“The other safe house,” Lois responded, not looking back at him.
***
Nigel smiled to himself as he watched the two men that had been following him through the hospital stairwell, scamper around the roof, unable to track his whereabouts. The helicopter flew through the air, leaving the bewildered agents clueless as to where he had disappeared to.
Finally, after months of searching, he’d finally gotten himself a tangible lead. He’d wasted his resources trying to look into the Kents. He was so sure Lois Lane would show up there, but he’d been unable to find even one lead as to where they might be hiding her.
“We’ve got enough fuel to make it out of New Troy and land you by the landing strip of Mr. Luthor’s private plane.” The pilot said, looking back at him to where Nigel was hidden behind the seat. “Paul can take you where you need to go from there.”
“Yes, I don’t think I’ll be traveling by plane for this trip,” Nigel responded. “I need to stay off the radar of the federal government.”
The pilot thought for a moment and then responded, “We can get you in a rental, but that’s as far as I’m able to go without getting Mr. Luthor’s authorization.”
“Mr. Luthor has enough to worry about,” Nigel responded shaking his head.
***
Lois sat in the corner of the sofa in the living room, uncertain how to process what had just happened. Clark had gone from not saying a single word to not being able to shut up as he pressed Jack Davenport for details on the case against Lex Luthor. How had he gone three weeks without saying more than a single syllable to her and yet when Jack freaking Davenport showed up he couldn’t find the mute button to save his life.
“Luthor’s not dumb enough to get his hands dirty,” Clark said, shaking his head. “If Nigel is doing anything on his orders it won’t come back to Luthor.”
Lois felt a pang in her chest, hearing Clark’s voice echo around the living room once more. She could feel tears threatening to overtake her as she went between being angry that he was talking to Davenport to being grateful to hear his voice.
“We have ways of breaking people,” Davenport remarked smugly. That remark resulted in a dark expression from Clark and Davenport quickly covered, “Nothing like what you were put through, Clark. We do have our limits.”
“These people are monsters, Agent Davenport,” Clark’s voice cracked as he made an emotional plea, shaking his head, “You have no idea what these people are capable of.”
“You sound like you do,” Davenport remarked, folding his hands in front of him. “Offer is still good. Just one statement about what happened could help solidify the case…”
“No,” Lois cut in, hearing the wavering in her voice as she fought back the tears. “That’s enough,”
Davenport shot her a look, “Lois, I get you’re a little overprotective after what happened to John Black, but we know what we’re doing.”
“Do you?” Lois scoffed, feeling the flood of tears threaten to overtake her. “Because I don’t think you have any idea how to keep your witnesses safe.”
“We had a leak. It was contained. End of discussion,” Davenport responded evenly, “But I think your partner here can speak for himself. Given he’s the one that was kidnapped and might have insight into what Luthor is up to.”
“Well, that would be news to me!” Lois shot back angrily, folding her arms over her chest, leaning back against the cushion of the couch. She could feel both men’s eyes on her but didn’t dare look up.
“Something going on here I should know about?” Davenport asked.
“No, everything’s just peachy! Perfect little picture of your perfect little case that will more than likely blow up in your face along with everything else, but by all means please… you want him to talk. Go for it!” She gestured to Clark’s stern face as she continued on her verbal attack, unable to hold back.
“I mean, you’re already getting more out of him than I have in the past month. Which is really insane given that I spent the last four months…Yes, four months trying to figure out where in the hell he had been taken. But sure why not bond with the FBI agent that you’ve known all of five minutes.” Lois fumed angrily, glaring at Clark as she jabbed her index finger into his shoulder.
“I mean, it’s not like I-your supposed friend might actually want to know anything or need some reassurance that you aren’t brain damaged or worse. I mean, I’m only the person that dragged him out of that hell hole, got shot at and fought off fifteen different people trying to gun us down in the process. But yeah, I guess it’s too much to ask for right?”
Her face tightened into a scowl as she continued her tirade, “‘Hey, how are you? Are you okay, Clark?’ Nope! See? How hard was that?” With that she stood up and stormed out of the room, leaving the two alone to sort through the rest of what Agent Davenport had to say.
***
Two Months Ago…Phillip Manning wasn’t the paranoid type, but he could tell when someone was following him and the new kid was definitely following him. He looked over his shoulder as he turned the corner and sure enough there he was. What he was doing on this wing of the school he wasn’t sure.
He glanced at the time, seeing it was almost time for dinner he turned down the hall leading to the stairwell. Maybe he could lose him in the crowd. He jerked the door handle to the stairwell and found the door immoveable. He growled, banging his fist on the wood-paneled door to get it to open. He looked over his shoulder and groaned when he saw the problem.
“Phillip Manning. You’re a hard kid to track down,”
Phillip turned to face the stranger that had been following him. “What do you want?”
A newspaper clipping of his reign on Metropolis during his time under the influence of Metamide 5 hung in front of him. “I think you know more than what was printed in this article.”
“What’s it to you?” Phillip asked.
“A friend of mine died. I want to right a wrong, and I think you can help.” The stranger remarked solemnly.
“I’m still not hearing why I should care,” Phillip remarked.
“My friend—I think you know him. Superman.” The stranger said.
Phillip immediately tensed, recalling how Superman had helped all of him and his friends from making a grave mistake. Even after he had fixed the formula, it had been discovered that the Metamide 5 turned into poison. Thankfully he’d stopped when he did. He stared at the young man looking back at him in surprise. “I know him.” Phillip said carefully, “but I can’t help you.”
“He helped you. Gave you a fresh start,” the man reminded him.
“There’s no one left to look out for the little guy.” Phillip shot back with a snort. “Death of Superman seems unreal, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, it does,” the man said. “Which is what brings me here,”
***
“No,” Lex hissed out, staring across the boardroom of traitors that dared defy his decision. “This will not stand.”
The director turned toward Lex and shook his head, “Mr. Luthor, with all due respect the Daily Planet is a liability. We can look to make a profit here and cut our losses. What good does it do to keep hold of something we look to make no money from?”
“I still own this company, don’t I?” Lex hissed out in anger. “You are my board! Not Stern’s.”
“And our job is to ensure LexCorp continues to grow and expand and make us all a lot of money.” Another board member spoke up, standing to his feet.
“Which we’re not doing. We haven’t been able to pass the price changes through City Hall.” His public relations officer added in.
“I told you I’d take care of City Hall,” Lex growled back angrily. “Just keep pushing the numbers.”
“Stern Media isn’t a threat, Lex,” another board member spoke up. “We sell the Daily Planet, and we look to make a huge profit. The insurance money paid off all the debt and then some. The longer we hold on, the more of a liability it becomes.”
“And the more opportunity for Stern to rebuild,” Lex shook his head. “No, the Daily Planet will remain where it is, a distant memory for Metropolis. Franklin Stern can take his offer and go buy up another television network.”
There was a look across the table between his CFO and Media director. Lex narrowed his eyes at them and snarled, “Spit it out!” They looked back at him in surprise when he pointed at them. “You two! What aren’t you telling me?”
“We have an offer from Stern Media to buy out the LNN network,”
***
Present Day…Clark glanced toward the doorway that Lois had just stormed out of, uncertain what had precipitated her outburst. He looked back and caught Agent Davenport’s concerned expression. The FBI Agent shook his head, “You’ve done quite a number on that one,”
Clark shook his head, “I’m not talking about it.”
Davenport shrugged, “I didn’t say anything.”
“I mean, what does she expect me to do just go back to the way things were?” Clark continued, trying to justify his actions to the FBI agent. “She’s acting like…”
“You two obviously have a…complicated history,” Davenport managed, looking up at him uneasily, “But to your point, things can’t go back to how they were. Too much has happened…to both of you.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Clark asked, looking up.
Davenport’s jaw tightened, and he looked down, “I think instead of sitting here talking to me you need to talk to her.”
“It’s not that easy,” Clark muttered.
“It never is,” Davenport shrugged. “But someone has to take the first step.” There was a silence between them, and he continued, “So, we heard Lois’ opinion about you testifying against Luthor. How about you?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Clark said warily.
“Okay,” Davenport leaned back in the chair he was sitting in, “I don’t suppose you want to tell me why?” Clark looked up at the man, silently shaking his head ‘no’ and Davenport nodded, “Fair enough.” He leaned forward. “I had to ask.”
Clark looked toward the doorway where Lois had stormed out earlier, “She’s really testifying against Luthor?”
Davenport shrugged, “Cornerstone of the FBI’s case against him. Professional hitman hunting down all my witnesses and she’s the only one still standing.”
“You really think Nigel’s headed this way?” Clark asked, looking back at Davenport.
“We can’t be sure of anything just yet,” Davenport said. “We’ve got men in the area, but if he is spotted both of you need to make a break for it.” Davenport laid out some paperwork on the table, and his face took on a stern expression, and he continued, “Both of your new identities came with a checking account with enough cash to keep you moving. Just don’t do anything to draw attention to yourselves.”
“New identities?” Clark asked.
“I guess she never told you?” Davenport looked at him in surprise.
“Tell me what?” Clark asked, picking up the paperwork Davenport pushed his way.
Clark silently took the file from her, flipping through the paperwork. Leila and Colin Kane. He shifted uneasily staring at the marriage license in his hand. Married? He and Lois were supposed to pretend to be married. How exactly was that supposed to work when they were hardly talking to one another?
Clark pulled out the supporting birth certificate and marriage license from the folder, “This is a joke, right?”
“No joke,” Davenport smirked, “I’m told you two already argue like the Hatfields and McCoys so it won’t be that much of an adjustment.” At Clark’s dark look he quickly cleared his throat, “Sorry. Bad joke. Bill Henderson’s idea. He figured it’d be better to have you both next of kin in case of an emergency. This was the easiest way to do it.”
“Makes sense I guess,” Clark looked down at the paperwork in his hands.
Davenport’s phone chirped, and he quickly turned to answer it, stepping away from them and walking toward the kitchen, “Davenport.”
Clark watched him leave, looking at the paperwork in his hand. Davenport was right. Someone needed to take the first step and given that Lois had been the one taking all of the initiative lately he supposed it was his turn. Putting aside his humiliation and bruised ego he sighed, setting the paperwork down on the table. He tightened his grip on the edge of the couch, waiting for the tremor in his hand to subside.
‘Easy,’***
Lois jerked the cabinets open, searching for anything to help squash down the anger festering beneath her veins. She swallowed back the tears that threatened to overtake her. Clark was fine. He wasn’t injured. He wasn’t traumatized. He was just refusing to talk to her for three and a half weeks. He had had every opportunity to open his mouth and respond…say anything to her. Yet he remained mute.
“Need a hand?” a voice came from behind her.
Her jaw tightened, letting out a strangled breath as she croaked out, “He speaks,” Lois spun around to face Clark, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared him down. “You have a lot of nerve!”
“I just thought you might want some help,” he said carefully, taking a step back and leaning against the counter behind him.
“Why? So you can squash your guilt over ignoring me for almost a month? No thanks,” she growled at him, seething in her anger for a moment before throwing another verbal attack. “Who the hell do you think you are?” She jabbed him in the chest with an index finger. “Do you have any idea what kind of hell you put me through?”
“Put you through?” he growled indignantly, straightening up. “I’m sorry, I must have missed the part where you had a cell right next to mine.”
“You can’t hold onto the victim card to justify you being a royal ass!” she scowled angrily. Realizing how that sounded she relented immediately and backtracked. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. I know you’ve been through a lot.”
“You know?” he scoffed in mocking laughter, “You have no idea!”
“No, I don’t.” She straightened up, putting her hands on her hips, “Because unlike Jack Davenport I am apparently not important enough for you to talk to. God forbid you actually acknowledge my existence. No, that would be asking for too much. It’s much more logical for you to freeze me out and leave me guessing what the hell you’re thinking!”
“Jack Davenport isn’t someone I have to question his motives,” Clark remarked darkly. “Jack Davenport didn’t sit there and …”
“And what?” Lois challenged, taking a step closer. “I’d really love to hear how you’ve justified to yourself why you can’t bring yourself to utter a single word to me all this time.”
“I don’t know,” he finished lamely, unable to complete his thought.
“You don’t know?” Lois felt the tears trickling down her face. “That’s just…great.”
“I’m still taking a lot of this in I guess,” He looked down, avoiding eye contact with her and she wiped the tears from her cheeks, feeling her anger continue to fester.
He was lying. She could tell from the look on his face. It was the same look he gave her when he was about to give her a lame excuse to leave. Every time she knew he was lying yet, she never called him out on it.
“Liar,” Lois fumed irritably.
“Excuse me?” he scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I said,
liar!” she growled at him. “You think I don’t know when you’re lying to me? You think I’m just going to sit back and let you bullshit me with another lame excuse so you can avoid talking about whatever the hell it is you’re trying to hide? I am done with people lying to me. I am done with being deceived. If you’ve got something to say, then say it!”
“You’re right,” he acknowledged solemnly. “I’m sorry,” He looked up at her, seeming to try and find the words to ask what it was he was holding back. “It’s just…the last time we talked didn’t go very well.”
Lois looked down for a split second then met his gaze, “Well, a lot has changed since then.”
“It has?” he asked, peering at her uncertainly.
“Of course it has,” she shrugged her shoulders, “I’m not testifying against Lex Luthor for kicks you know,” Lois said uneasily, staring back at him. “I hate him just as much as you do and I want to see him pay for his crimes.”
She watched the revelation seem to take form in his mind, softening his steely features. His breathing evened out, and he stared back at her for a long moment. If she didn’t know better she would have thought, he was trying to look through her. Given the injuries he’d suffered and the bruises he was still nursing she knew that wasn’t possible.
Even with the messy goatee that had begun to grow on his face it still made her take a second look and take an extra moment to remind herself that he was really here. It had been hell scouring every part of LexCorp, trying to find where Clark might have been taken to. Now finally he was standing here and talking to her. She felt a lump build in the back of her throat, and she managed to squeak out. “Jimmy, Jack, Perry, we’ve all been through hell and back.” She fiddled with a loose string on her shirt, looking down.
“What?” he asked, taking a step toward her.
She bit her lip, hoping to fight back the tears, “I’ve just really missed you,” she said, looking up at him.
***
TBC...
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