Author’s note: So this is a new one for me- this story was inspired by a Reddit thread, of all things. Someone started a thread asking what their experiences with those little DNA sample test kits were, and this is what came to mind. (And yes, I know the technology wasn’t actually available when the show was set.)
As for story setting, this is set during Strange Visitor.
I haven’t written a pure L&C story for months now, so please, be gentle.
Disclaimer: All recognisable characters, plot lines setc are property of DC Comics, November 3rd Productions and Warner Bros. I own nothing.
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Lois sauntered nonchalantly over to stand beside Clark’s desk.
“You were adopted,” she stated without preamble.
“Yes, I was,” he replied evenly, not stopping his typing as he did so. Privately she gave him credit for appearing so unconcerned. “How did you know?”
“Your reaction to your story just now. Even you don’t normally get worked up over human interest pieces. Plus you don’t look like either of your parents, so unless you’re a throwback to your great uncle Eddie…”
He laughed, that genuine mirthful laugh she found strangely endearing. “No, no great uncle Eddie. The Kents adopted me when I was a few months old.”
“So is that why you’re writing this? Your very own tearjerker reconciliation?”
He shook his head, his expression suddenly sad. “No, I don’t know anything about my birth parents. I’ve looked, but I just don’t have enough to go on.” He shrugged. “Maybe—“
“Lois!”
Perry’s bull roar echoed across the newsroom, drawing her attention away from Clark with a moue of regret.
***
In the aftermath of the phony warrant being served on the Planet staff, Lois did her best to concentrate on finding out the truth about the imposters that had subjected her and Clark to the indignity of a polygraph test. But her mind kept slipping back to the look on Clark’s face when he’d told her he didn’t know anything about his birth parents.
From everything he’d ever said about Jonathon and Martha Kent, they were fantastic parents. Supportive, kind, loving… everything that Lois’s own parents weren’t. She’d envied him that connection with his family. But that connection didn’t mean he didn’t yearn to know more about the people he’d been born to. She’d seen it time and time again when she’d written her own story on adoptive kids looking for their birth parents three years earlier. It had been a constant theme. And she understood it. People needed roots, to know where they came from.
Grumbling to herself about letting the hack from Kansas and his bucolic family get to her— it wasn’t even like he was a friend! — she logged on to her home computer. A quick search online found what she needed. Putting in her details, she clicked the ‘confirm’ button before logging off.
***
The package was waiting for her when she got home from work a week later. She picked it up, reading the instructions on the back panel. Funny how such a little thing could maybe help Clark find his birth family. Would doing so change his life? Was she doing the right thing? She’d heard of so many cases where people had found their birth parents and the parents had wanted nothing to do with the offspring they’d given up years— decades— earlier. Would that happen to Clark?
She shook her head. Even if it did, Clark wanted answers. If his birth parents didn’t want contact with their biological son, then that was their loss.
She stuffed the little box into her bag. She’d shower and change before she headed over to the fleapit he’d miraculously turned into a cosy apartment.
***
Clark bounded up the few steps to his front door at the sound of knocking, remembering to scoop up his glasses on the way.
“Lois?” he said in surprise as he opened the door, letting his unexpected visitor in. “What are you doing here?”
She breezed past him down the steps to his sunken living room. “I brought you something.”
“You— what?” He closed the door and took the steps at a slower pace than she had
“Here.” She pushed a small package into his hands, obviously excited by her out-of-the-blue gift. “It’s a DNA test kit. You fill in the information, send in the sample, and they test it and show you any matches they have for you in their database.” She paused, smiling at him. “I thought you could use it to find your birth parents.”
He turned the box over in his hands, examining it with mixed feelings. On one hand, it was an incredibly sweet gesture on her part. But on the other hand… he couldn’t possibly submit this test. How, exactly, was he going to get out of this? Lois was one of the most persistent people alive, it was one of the things that made her a great reporter. She was going to want to know the results of the test.
Clark sank onto the couch, still staring at the box to try and buy some time.
“Clark?”
He looked up at her and tried to smile. “Thanks, Lois. This is— really sweet of you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What’s going on?”
***
His reaction didn’t make sense.
For a man who said he wanted to know where he came from, he was being ridiculously reluctant.
He was hiding something.
Lois regarded her sometimes-partner suspiciously.
“I thought you wanted answers.”
“I do, but…” he trailed off, sighing and running a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t just adopted, Lois,” he got out jerkily. “I was a foundling. The questions I have are things like ‘why did you abandon me?’ and ‘how did I end up in rural Kansas?’. This little kit… it can’t give me the answers to those questions.”
“But it could, Clark,” she said persuasively. “It could help you find your birth parents, and then you can ask them all those questions. You said it yourself, it’s the not knowing that kills you. So take the test, and get some answers.”
“There’s not going to be any of my relatives in that database,” he responded flatly, getting restlessly to his feet and moving a few steps away while she stared after him in disbelief.
“Am I missing something here?” she asked. “Usually I’m the cynical one and you’re the optimist.”
“Look, Lois, I just know it’s not going to do any good.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I just am.”
“But how?”
“Because of how they found me!” He took a deep breath, running his hand through his hair again until it stood up in weird spikes. “The Kents didn’t find me on their doorstep, Lois. They found me in a field.”
“Your birth parents left you in a field?”
“Not… exactly.”
“What does that mean?”
“My capsule crashed in the field.” He was looking at her intently, like he was trying to tell her something important but all she felt was confusion.
“Capsule? Like a car seat?”
“Like a spaceship.”
She snorted, half amused, half annoyed. “A spaceship?” she repeated sceptically. “Are you trying to tell me that you, Clark Kent— farmboy from Smallville, Kansas— are an alien?” She started laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of the idea as he sighed again.
It took her a moment to realise he was floating a foot off the floor.
***
Clark let himself touch down gently, maintaining eye contact with Lois as he did so. He hadn’t intended on telling her the truth. At least not now. But for some reason, he’d been unable to stop himself. Now he braced for her reaction.
She was looking at him oddly; not knowing what else to do, he smiled at her in a strange combination of reassurance and worry. Just as it occurred to him that this was the longest he’d ever known Lois Lane to be silent, she reached out and took the testing kit out of his nearly nerveless hand.
“You really, really, cannot take this test. Can’t have Superman’s DNA— you are him, not some long-lost relative, right?— we can’t have your DNA in some database somewhere, who knows what could happen? We already know Bureau 39 is after you— do you know if they know who you really are?— you could have scientists or the military after you trying to experiment on you— and what if somebody leaked it? Your life, your parents lives would be over—“
Clark gave up trying to to get a word in edgewise as he watched her pace wildly, a grin spreading across his face. Superman was no match for Lois Lane in full babble mode, but every word just made him smile more.
Lois knew. And her every thought was on how to protect his secret.
