Chapter 64:
"That was beautiful."
Clark's roughened voice surprised her. She turned away from Henderson's retreating form to look at him, nestled in scratchy hospital bedding and surrounded by tubes and beeping machines. Her heart pounded hard inside her chest, because she really had almost lost him, and there were reminders everywhere keeping time with the rhythm of his heart. She shot him a watery smile and leaned over him to toy with a lock of his hair. "Hey. You're awake."
He grimaced tightly. "Yeah. Not much better though."
She ran a hand through his dark locks gently, enjoying the way his eyes fluttered shut at the light sensation. "How much of that did you hear?"
"Enough to know you're better at making up stories and manipulating people than I ever was. You sure you don't wanna run a criminal empire?"
She smacked him upside the head before realizing what she was doing, and she pulled her hand back to cover her mouth on a gasp. "Oh, Clark! I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"
He gave some odd mixture of a groan and a laugh, eyes shut. "Damn."
She sighed in relief and shook her head at him, fingers worrying at the hem of the sheets absently. "Not ready for jokes about that yet."
He opened his eyes slowly, understanding. "I know. I'm sorry. But it's all over now, I swear."
She leaned over him carefully and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead and murmured her words into his skin. "You scared me, you know. I thought I lost you."
He looked up when she pulled away, and twined his fingers together with hers. "Never. You'll never lose me."
She searched his eyes and found he was telling the truth. And in spite of everything she'd found out about him, and everything they'd been through, she wanted that future with him. She didn't say anything, but in her heart she was resolved. When he eventually asked the question, she'd have an answer for him.
"Are you going to be okay?"
He huffed a laugh and winced at the subsequent pull on his side. "Of course. The House of Il is the house of strength." Lois cocked her head at the phrase, almost route sounding, as if he was quoting someone else. He gave her another smile that drew into a taut grimace. "My birth name. Kal-Il. Point is, I'll bounce back."
Lois smiled, and leaned over again to lock lips with him.
They would survive this. And they'd live happily ever after, she just knew it.
*****LnC*****
Lex sat shackled to the table, legs shackled to his chair, grinning like a fool. He'd won. He had a captive audience. He'd tell them everything— his whole story, including discovering Clark Kent's true identity, and they'd let him go in a heartbeat. Kent— if he wasn't dead already— would be incarcerated. Maybe they'd bring the death penalty into play, for special circumstances.
Lois would see the error of her ways.
The door to the interrogation room swung open, and he leered at the Inspector. Good, it was someone he was familiar with. Henderson and Lois were close; he'd understand the circumstances. "Inspector! Good to see you. How's your wife?"
Henderson's eyes sparked sharply at him, and he was trailed by the blonde woman who had shot him. "Is that a threat, Luthor?"
Lex sobered and held his hands up as much as he could in his given situation. "No threats, just being friendly. She's a lovely woman, if I recall."
The inspector didn't flinch in his glare, and Lex turned his attention to the female detective. "We only met briefly; Lex Luthor. I believe you shot me—"
"Can it, Luthor." Henderson's tone was sharp, angry, and he plopped a stack of folders onto the table between them. "See this? We got a lot to go over, so you might wanna save your voice."
Lex frowned at the pile in confusion. "What's this?"
The lady detective sat down besides Henderson, and ignored his question. "My name is Maggie Sawyer, I'm the captain of the new Metropolis Special Crimes Unit over at the eighth precinct."
"You hear that, Lex? We had to make a new division for you."
Lex felt his pulse spike, and for the first time since all this started, he realized he might not have the upper hand. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Henderson cut in again. "Let's start with a softball, okay? How about yesterday's attempted murder?"
"Attempted?" Lex laughed. "So the bastard survived. Good to know."
"Kent is going to be pressing charges—"
"Clark Kent deserves to die," he spat venomously, leaning forward over the table sharply, only to be pulled back by his chains. Lex inhaled deeply and pulled himself back under control. He smiled serenely at the two, tried to present a collected image. "He's manipulating Lois. He covered up— he killed Nigel St. John. He's been out to get me since day one—"
"Your so-called eye witness came forward and said he was paid to make up that story about seeing Kent dump Nigel's body."
Lex frowned in confusion, mind spinning. "My- what? He did see it! I did no such thing—"
"Not to mention the several attempts on Ultraman’s life, the bombing of the Carlin building, the bombing of the Messenger colonist transport and attempted bombing of the Prometheus, the kidnapping of both Lois Lane and her sister, the hysteria subsequent from releasing a psychotropic hallucinogen on the streets—"
"Now hold on, that wasn't me, that was—"
"Plus numerous wire transfers to local and international criminal elements, such as the gun runners from the Congo we've been trying to stop for the past seven years, the drug cartels circulating cocaine and heroin in the streets, the testing of Metamide-5, an unknown and unapproved drug, on a group of orphans, and the gang violence—"
"Criminal—?" Lex cut himself off this time. The litany of crimes against him was appalling, and outrageous, and just plain wrong. He shook his head fervently. "No. No. No."
"Try us, Luthor. We have all the evidence we need to back it up."
"Lies. You're all a bunch of liars. You're on his side— he's manipulating you—"
"Nice try, Lex. But you're gonna need something more than your word to get out of this one."
His mind was racing, his chest tight with panic. He didn't understand. Where did all this come from? He didn't do it, dammit. "I think..." he swallowed thickly. "I think I'd like to make a phone call now."
Henderson shrugged. "Call whoever you want. But you're going to be behind bars for more time than you got left, pal."
*****LnC*****
They were talking about her, she just knew it. And why wouldn't they be? It would be one thing if she was completely insane and didn't know what was going on, but the bouts of lucidity only exacerbated her humiliation. She toyed with the edge of her favorite cotton tee shirt--man it felt nice to be back in her own clothes again--and glanced up at the Metropolis General sign somewhat dejectedly. A soft pinging sound rang out twice as somebody with the voice of a flight attendant calmly called for a code blue to labor and delivery. All the chaos spinning around them, all the things that they surely had to do, and still the nurses behind the check-in desk were whispering her name.
She wouldn't miss this place.
Lucy chewed her thumbnail nervously. Bad habit, but she couldn't stop. She sat staring at the phone, and chewed on her nails, and waited for something, anything, to happen. She'd left plenty of messages. What else did she need, an engraved invitation?
“You ready?”
The voice behind her nearly had her jumping out of her skin, and Lucy put a hand to her heart in a vain attempt to still it's rhythm. She glanced sidelong at the phone again, ignoring the nurses trying not to stare, although they weren't trying too hard. “Uh, yeah. Just another minute.”
“Lucy,” the doctor chided softly, “We talked about this. It's been a week. The hospital staff isn't equipped to handle your situation.”
“I know,” she answered sullenly, shoulders sloped as she sank into the wheelchair.
“And you've given her a week,” she reminded her yet again.
Lucy huffed much more irritably this time. “I know.” The ping sounded again, cancelling the call to labor and delivery, and it felt like it was marking the end of her time here. A sense of finality wrapped around her, and Lucy folded her arms with a shudder.
“Doctor Deter knows what he's doing. He'll take good care of you, and before you know it, you'll be back home with your sister in no time, perfectly happy and healthy again.”
She bit her lip this time, her gut churning as she turned back to the kindly doctor who'd been working with her throughout this whole ordeal. One of the few she could actually tolerate. A pang of sadness washed over Lucy at the thought of not working with her anymore, although she knew the isolation at her new living situation would be better, would help her more in the long run. “Do you think she's got my messages?”
The doctor smiled sadly and tucked a strand of short, blonde hair behind her ear. “I think you've had a very difficult week. Your sister may just be trying to give you some space.”
Lucy stared at the phone again, knot in her stomach. What if she left and missed Lois’ call as soon as she was gone? What if something terrible had happened to her and she had no way of finding out? Or worse… her shoulders dropped. “Do you really think that she's giving me space, or do you think I'm being ignored?”
“I'm sure she's not--”
“Or maybe she's forgotten me already,” she snipped, a wave of anger cresting inside her chest.
“This isn't healthy,” the doctor chimed in again, placing a hand on the phone. “You need time to focus on yourself. Get better. Maybe, when things have settled down, you can reach out again.”
“Yeah,” Lucy muttered, but the words slowly sunk in the more she thought on it. “Yeah. You know what? You're right. Who cares what the great Lois Lane is doing right now? It's my turn now. She can go for a long walk off a short pier, for all I care.”
“Good for you,” Dr. Kelly cheered. “Maxwell is great, by the way. Top of his field. You're really going to like him.”
“And Shady Brooke is a nice place?” She questioned quietly, unsure.
“Yes, it's wonderful.”
Lucy stared at the phone a little longer, resolving herself with a straight back and her firm, determined eyes. “Let's go then.”
*****LnC*****
Lieutenant Colonel Charles Fane pursed his lips as the message from Lex ended. He glanced across the desk at his superior officer, nervously awaiting a response. "Well?"
"You know what I'm going to say."
"We wouldn't have half the intel we have if it weren't for Lex Luthor. Don't we owe him something for that?"
The man snarled at him. "What we owe is to the people. To the citizens of this city, this nation. I don't care if Lex Luthor rots in prison for the rest of his pitiful life. Hell, for that matter, how do we know anything he told us is true? The feds are even going after him—"
"He didn't lie about Ultraman. The Kryptonite works on him. And he was right about Clark Kent not being who he said he was," Charlie pointed out optimistically.
"All the more reason to cut ties with him."
Charlie's shoulders slumped. He didn't like doing his friend dirty like this, but if it was an order... "I understand, sir."
"Look, Fane. You're a smart guy. Too smart for your own good, and you know it. It's not a pretty quality. But you should be able to follow this." He took a pause to light his cigar and take a few thoughtful puffs. "If you want to exonerate Lex Luthor, that's on you. But you're going to set off a lot of red flags in the process, and we're dealing with someone much smarter and faster than we are. You'll both end up in hot water, and there won't be anyone left to bail you out."
Charlie grimaced. He knew he was right. There wasn't anything they could do about Ultraman right now. They needed time to gather their resources, find a way forward.
"But on the other hand, if you take what you learned, apply it, we could train a new batch of agents, prepared for alien warfare, invent new technology so that they're ready to take on the worst. It'll take time, and effort, and you won't see the immediate benefits... But you'll be the most respected man in the Bureau, looked up to and revered by all."
Fane felt his pulse race at that thought.
"What do you say, General?"
"General?"
"Of course. If you took the job, there would be a few promotions involved."
His eyes widened and he stood up straight. A few promotions? He was jumping to General. He'd be running his own department. The message from Luthor was the last thing on his mind.
"Then thank you, sir. I accept your generous offer."
George Thompson smiled with the cigar hanging out of the corner of his mouth, and held out a hand for the young man to shake. "General Fane, welcome to Bureau 39."
