***
I Now Pronounce You: Clark Kent
***
“Lois, I love you. I…”
He loves her. He loves her, he loves her, he loves her. He loved her when he first met her, a tiny root of love that he planted and nourished and watered and tilted toward the sunlight until it grew so quickly it choked off all the put-downs and barbs and other men’s engagement rings and DEA agents that tried to stunt it. He loved her when she told him he was like a brother to her, when he nearly gave up hope and threw away her ring, and when he went mad with fear and all the infinite possibilities of loss--mad enough to try to cut her out of his life. He loved her when she floated down from the sky to save him and went down on a knee to propose to him and crumpled at his side to catch him as a Kryptonian fever raged through his body.
And he loves her now, cranky and stressed and paranoid. Leaning into his embrace and playing with his ring on her finger and ready to marry him in twelve hours. Staring at him with her wide, dark eyes and giving a toast for his parents and vowing to protect him. Him, the strongest man on the planet. She says she will take care of him and he has never felt safer. Stronger. More loved.
He’s hers. She’s his. They’re an us, a together, and inseparable pair. Not because they work together and write together and have all the same friends. Because they choose each other. She’s choosing him.
Him the ordinary guy who takes a little too much pleasure in riling her up and spills coffee and doesn’t know the first thing about regular relationships.
Him the extraterrestrial superhero who can do extraordinary things without breaking a sweat and who is needed and claimed by the entire world.
Him the strange, constantly shifting combination of them both. Ordinary in some things and so not-ordinary in others.
Him. She’s choosing him. No second thoughts or last minute plans to jilt him or call off the wedding--the only alternative she’s suggested is eloping, and even in that plan, he’s her plus-one.
Only now that the moment is almost upon them can Clark admit just how long and often he doubted it would ever happen. He’s always longed for acceptance, for belonging, for inclusion, but it was always a far-off dream.
Until today. Until twelve hours from now, when he will belong to Lois. She’ll accept him as her husband. They will make up a circle that includes only them, inseparable, unbreakable, no beginning or end to them. And the exclusion he’s felt almost his entire life will fall away because they will be the only thing that’s exclusive.
Lois and Clark. Lane and Kent. Linked forever.
He loves her. Oh, how he loves her. But the love is like an ocean, surging inside him, a flood that dams up in his throat, too all-encompassing to pin down in so few words. He wants to give the perfect toast to Lois, to do justice to how much she means to him, to give her credit for all she does and is. But the words are bottled up, so vast he cannot pick apart a single thread to unspool.
But Lois’s hand is soft on his cheek, and he knows: she understands.
And he falls in love all over again.
***
***
Double Jeopardy: Lex Luthor
***
“I want Clark,” the clone says.
It makes no sense. In fact, it makes the opposite of sense, as if she is just spouting nonsense words (which, you are aware, could actually happen; for all their usefulness, the clones are not prime specimens of intelligence).You stare blankly at her as you try to rearrange the syllables into something you can understand.
Firstly, this clone is nothing but some DNA strands and frog genes spliced together and grown into a familiar shape. You are as much above her as a star is above a speck of dirt. How dare she want anything but what you tell her to want? How dare she try to negotiate or demand at all?
Secondly, Clark Kent? As unintelligent as these test tube creatures are, you cannot believe that anything in the shape of such sterling beauty as Lois Lane (and touched by your presence, aware of your place in life) could possibly desire that annoying giblet with such unfortunate staying power. You are aware that a day is rather like a year considering the clones’ abbreviated lifespans, but not even all fourteen days of this clone’s lifetime would be enough to make Clark Kent transform from ‘not her type’ to something worthy of challenging you, her creator.
And yet (thirdly, because you know you need to face it in order to conquer it), the model on whom this clone is based has a certain preference for Kent too. All that time you thought Superman was your contender for her heart, but it is Kent who almost got her to the marriage alter. Kent who received her affections while you rotted in prison, marked as a criminal, a failure.
Kent whom she cares for so much that just hearing that he married this clone brought her to tears. You in a wheelchair and elderly disguises, hated and haunted and humiliated, only moved her to pity. But Kent with her replica conjured up an emotional breakdown.
Idiocy. Sheer ridiculousness. So the man has a few awards under his belt and some peer recognition--that does not change who he is at his core. A walkover. A pushover. A weakling. A loser.
And you…you are the survivor. A winner. A god.
Whatever Kent’s charms, they cannot stand against you. If Lois has some strange fetish for a lovelorn milkweed, you can use that to your advantage, can manipulate and charm until you are the possessor of her heart as you already are of the future.
As for the clone, what weakness. What proof that she deserves even less than two weeks to live. To think that she was in the presence of greatness, but preferred instead to lie among the dogs.
This world, you realize yet again, does not deserve you.
***
***
Seconds: Various
***
“I beg you.”
Lex Luthor:
He begs, and you thrill. Here is power. Here is divinity. The strongest man in the world groveling at your feet. The invulnerable alien wholly beholden to your good graces. The man who won Lois Lane’s heart with his feats of chivalry and his false heroism, who now has lost everything thanks to you. He begs, and you are electrified with the crackle of destiny.
This is what you were born for.
Martha Kent:
He begs, and you want to shriek loud enough to drown out the sound of it. You want to rend and burn until the world rages, too, against this injustice. This tragedy. Clark, on his knees, begging and in pain, when his smile is the most beautiful sight that has ever graced this world, his laughter the most melodious sound in your life. It’s unfair. It’s inhumane. It’s evil.
This is not what the world is supposed to be like.
Clark Kent:
You beg, and your throat is scraped raw with terror. The cells in your body are in revolt, rioting and stampeding until you’re afraid that a single breeze could send you swirling into a billion pieces. But it is your parents you must focus on, so vulnerable, so fragile, so utterly dependent on your pride. Or rather, lack of it. But you will beg as much as Luthor wants, will crawl on hands and knees to save them. What does begging matter when your parents’ lives, Lois’s clone’s life, are all on the line? With strength or with pleas, you must save them.
This is all that matters.
Jonathan Kent:
He begs, and you want to fall on your knees for him. You want to take his pain and his shame and bear it in his place. He’s so strong, your son, and never stronger than in this moment. He’s willing to do whatever he must to save the people he loves, and you wish you had time to tell him how very proud of him you are. You wish you could hug him, to infuse his bones with you pride and your love. You wish a lot of things, but in the end, you can’t do anything.
This is your nightmare played out before you.
Clone-Lois:
He begs, and everything crystallizes inside you. He’s kind and gentle and nice and a lot of other things you didn’t even know a person could be until you got to know him, and maybe you don’t love him, not really, but you love him more than you’ll ever love anyone else in your whole entire life. Lex is powerful, but he’d never beg. Clark is even more powerful, but he’s willing to plead for his mom and dad, who are both nice people too. He’s willing to be as weak as a clone to save people. And this is what you realize, all in one moment, afraid to die and afraid to live: you want to be like Clark. You want to save him, too.
This is what you will die for.
***
***
Forget Me Not: Jimmy Olsen
***
Later, you won’t know why Perry was so distant during this whole ordeal. You won’t know all the particulars about what happened or how everything went down. It will all be a confusing jumble of happy occasion, surprise to see Lois and Clark so soon after their wedding, confusion over both of their behaviors, shock when Clark says Lois--the real Lois--is missing, relief when she is found even if she is pretending to be the character from her novel, grief when you find out she doesn’t remember anything…and over it all, a whole lot of worry.
Worry for Lois, of course, because she’s your friend and she’s hurt and she doesn’t remember your name. But mostly, you will feel worry for Clark. Because you’re the only one there to see him in all his pain. Frantic and lost and angry. You’re the one who will listen as CK admits his fears and confesses his distrust. The one who will worry about CK’s mental state when he comes in with his step bounding again and his smile back in place as if nothing ever happened.
You will be sure something else is going on. Will imagine terrible scenarios involving CK and a lot of head injuries and no one remembering your name.
But then, when CK laughs and says that all is right in the world, when he’s happy and optimistic and says, “Lois thinks I’m a jerk!” you will realize that CK isn’t hurt or insane.
He just doesn’t know any better. He wasn’t there, after all, in the BCK era. Before Clark Kent. He doesn’t know what Lois was like, how she didn’t have any friends or even any friendly acquaintances. He doesn’t know that everyone was afraid of her. That Perry was the only one who could talk to her, and even he was blown off more than listened to. CK doesn’t know that Lois was admired and respected and feared, but she wasn’t friends with anyone.
Not until CK.
It will be odd, to realize just how much CK doesn’t know. He’s your best friend, and you look up to him, you learn from him all the time, but you will look at him in that moment and suddenly think of him as clueless.
For all his endless love of Lois Lane, for all that he knows her and accepts her, for all the ways he reached past her prickly armor and fearlessly pulled her, beautiful and brilliant and friendly, out into the light, there is a part of Lois Lane he doesn’t know.
Because Lois never thought Clark Kent was a jerk. She never hated him. She was, above all, never ever indifferent to him.
In that moment, you will feel pity for him. And that, maybe most of all, is the worst part of the whole ordeal.
Because Lois will get better, and CK will be happy again, and they will all remember your name--but you will never be able to erase that moment when the tables were turned so completely.
***
***
Oedipus Wrecks: Lois Lane
***
Does she remember this? This man holding her in his arms offering her his heart even after all the damage she’s inflicted on it these past weeks? This ring he holds so gently, sparkling with the future and possibilities undimmed by the disappointments it’s endured? His moment repeated for the third time and secretly longed for since a stay in the honeymoon suite and the tantalizing allure of never being alone again?
She remembers all of it. Remembers it so clearly and seamlessly that she’s tempted to think it was only ever a dream that she forgot.
But it’s not. If anything, it’s a nightmare, and the scars of it are clear to see right in front of her.
A strong urge to cry slams into her. Because they were supposed to be done with all this. She’s grown so used to the newer, happier, more confident Clark that it throws her to see this return to the way things used to be. Back to when they both thought they were happy but didn’t have any idea just how truly happy they could be.
She wants to cry for him, not getting the bride he wanted. Not knowing where she was or how to save her. Having to face Lex again. Hearing her say--not just once, but twice--that she loved someone else rather than him. Getting her back only to have to let her go again. Forced to stay away and watch over her from afar. Losing her in so many different ways, all of them painful.
And she wants to cry for herself. Because she wanted to marry this remarkable man more than she’s ever wanted anything in her life. Because their special day that they’d planned and dreamed was ruined and tampered with and stolen. Because another woman got to say vows to Clark, and hold him, kiss him, do who knows what else with him.
Because this is supposed to be the happiest time of their lives and instead they’re scarred and bleeding, all their dreams hanging in tatters around them.
But she can’t cry. She won’t cry, not now, not when Clark is shaking in her arms. He’s been alone for too long, forced to be strong for both of them. But she’s here now. She’s back, she’s whole, and she can be the strong one for a while. She can stitch him back together and soothe his aches and heal the broken pieces of his heart.
She can banish his hesitance and calm his insecurities and power past his reluctance.
She can heal him, and in doing so, she thinks she will probably heal herself.
Already, she feels stronger, more ready to face what is left of her world.
Her hand doesn’t shake at all when she holds it up and lets the engagement ring slide home on her finger. Her smile doesn’t wobble a bit as she smiles wide enough to make Clark’s entire body tremble with relief. And she reclaims their dreams and their future with two words more powerful than any others she’s ever uttered.
“I do.”
***
