Continued from:
Chapter 10 [CHAPTER 11 - Discoveries]
Eleanor returned to her apartment around 10 am. Now that things were calming down a bit and Kal-El was on the mend, going back home seemed sensible. Which was all well and good as lunch approached.
“Jimmy should be here soon,” Lois said, sitting down at the kitchen table as Kal-El adjusted the kettle on the stove before retrieving a mug. “And you don’t mind if he learns about your amnesia or how you got here?”
“No. I don’t see the point of hiding it from him. You’ve asked him to help me, so you obviously trust him, and after last night, how can I not trust those you put your faith in?”
Lois smiled appreciatively. “Thanks. I’ll let him know then.”
Kal-El nodded as he put a tea bag into his cup in preparation for the hot water and set it on the table.
“You seem to like tea a lot. That's got to be your fifth cup since this morning,” Lois pointed out, amused.
Kal-El smiled sheepishly. “I suppose I do. Granted, I think it's going to be a few days before I even think about wanting to drink anything cold.”
Lois nodded softly at that and took a closer look at him. He looked better than he had that morning, but the sag in his shoulders hinted at fatigue and his gait suggested tender muscles.
“How are you feeling now, really?” she finally asked.
“Better. I still feel tired I think, but I'm not all that sore anymore and I'm definitely not cold.” He rolled his shoulders, giving a barely detectable wince before rubbing the shoulder that had been particularly black and blue.
“Do you want to go rest? Maybe get more sun?” she prompted.
“I might after I meet your friend,” he said before looking thoughtful. “I must admit that I'm curious.” He increased the heat under the kettle.
“Oh, about what exactly?” she asked.
“About who you work with, how well you work with them, what they're like,” he said. “Normal stuff I suppose.”
She grew nervous, her nickname, 'Mad-dog Lane’ coming to mind.
“Um, yeah, about that. . . .”
He turned to her directly at that, concerned. “What?”
“I'm not exactly . . . a pleasant person to be around all the time, especially at work,” she admitted.
He tilted his head at her, clearly trying to picture that. “Why?”
She blinked. “Well, I suppose a lot of it is due to being a female journalist in a way. I’m not saying this to complain, just stating the way it is. I knew I was entering a male dominated profession, so I expected certain things, but after a while, I learned I needed to go after the story and make no apologies. That's made me into someone . . . less than friendly sometimes."
“What happened?” he asked, knowing it was a sensitive topic due to her expression and tone.
She laughed sardonically. “I was an idiot. Trusted a guy at work and got into a romantic relationship with him.” She huffed, still furious with herself. “He got what he wanted, along with my story. Never going to let that happen again.”
Kal-El frowned. “How long ago?”
She took a deep breath and collected herself, somewhat startled that she had just shared something she had never willingly shared with anyone. “Years ago. When I was a rookie reporter. First year, actually.”
“It sounds like you blame yourself more than him,” he said softly as she wiped her eyes before they could get too moist and make her feel more exposed than she did already.
That whole month was still painful to recall.
“Lois, I don’t know how I know this, but those kinds of guys - I won’t call them men - are parasites. They’re cowards and are so good at manipulation that they can twist your perception of them no matter how good you are at seeing the truth. Don’t let him continue to manipulate you by not allowing yourself to put the blame where it belongs. Behind you, on him.”
Lois wiped her face again, now smothering a sob choked laugh. “Goodness, look at me. No, better yet, don’t look at me.”
“I’ll do whichever you prefer, but I would rather look at you,” he said goodnaturedly, earning a tender smile from Lois.
“Thanks,” she said quietly.
“You’re welcome, Lois,” he said, returning the smile before turning back to the stove, anticipating the kettle's call.
He was right, as it released its high pitched screech two seconds later.
Kal-El flinched violently at the noise, bringing his free hand up over one of his ears as he turned his head away. Lois jumped in alarm.
“Yikes, that's loud,” he said, quickly pulling the kettle off the heat and putting it aside. The squeal waned and then fell silent.
“Are you all right?” Lois asked, getting up from her chair.
He opened his mouth a few times as he rubbed his ears with his hands, as if trying to pop them, but it obviously didn't help.
“Everything is becoming louder,” he said through a grimace before leaning to the side to support himself on the counter, now covering his ears firmly with his palms.
Lois hurried around the table and gripped his arm in case he ended up falling.
“Here, sit down,” Lois said, guiding him to the floor as it was very evident he wouldn't be able to take a step without tipping over. “It's got to be your super hearing, you need to regain control.”
“I'm trying, but it's so loud,” he shouted, holding his head and bringing up his knees as Lois knelt in front of him.
“Try focusing on one sound; block out everything else,” Lois directed.
He closed his eyes, his breathing now growing labored under the din.
O o O
Kal-El did his best to do as Lois had suggested, but everything was so loud.
An explosive war movie played on a television in a neighboring apartment.
“Let the dog out!” a man shouted across the street.
A car rumbled down the road with its radio thundering a heavy bass.
Cats fought in an alley some place, cans echoing endlessly as they tipped over.
Bickering teenagers shouted across the way.
A baby cried in earnest somewhere.
Everything that made up city life pulsed through him. Sound upon sound with each building in volume.
Even Lois’ breathing was like a rush of razor blades to his ears.
He couldn’t cope. This was unendurable. He needed help. It was too much---
Suddenly, a memory came forward, unbidden.
A man he couldn’t see but could feel crouched over him. Strong and massive, he felt swallowed up, but safe despite the agony in his head at the unending cacophony roaring around him.
“Focus on this, son,” he said, seizing Kal-El’s much smaller hand and placing it firmly at the side of his warm throat, on his pulse, as he pulled Kal-El against his wide chest.
O o O
Lois was close to panic as pain continued to etch itself across Kal-El’s face and frame before he startled and his eyes snapped back open.
Lois stared back, concern clear in her expression.
With a grimace, Kal removed his right hand from shielding his ear and gently placed his fingertips against the side of her neck, just under her jaw, before closing his eyes again. Lois blinked in startled confusion at the odd contact but didn't pull back. Instead, she placed her hand over his and waited as quietly as she could.
She debated with herself about getting up and calling her father before too long, but fortunately it soon became evident that whatever Superman was doing was helping him.
The crows feet by his eyes slowly disappeared as his discomfort faded and finally evaporated completely.
He opened his eyes with a relieved, heavy sigh.
Abruptly realizing he was gently pressing his fingers against her throat, he pulled his hand away, uncertain and more than a little embarrassed.
“Sorry, that was just . . . I remembered that that was what my dad made me do when I was little,” Superman softly explained. He looked over to the floor beside his hand and straightened his legs so they weren't drawn near his chest.
“It's fine. I'm glad I was able to help you,” she assured, retaking his hand before perking up. “You remembered your dad? That's wonderful!”
“Well, I'm pretty sure he was my dad. He called me ‘son’, anyway.”
“Still, you remembered someone,” Lois said, happy for him. "Did you remember anything about him?"
"He's big, although in my memory I was a little kid, so he might not actually be big. I must have been five or six years old. Anyway, his hands are rough, like he does a lot of manual labor, and he smells like earth. Not dirt because he's dirty, but soil. The kind you can get anything to grow in."
"So he's a farmer? What does he look like?" she asked, a bit confused. This didn't sound like the man who had made his spacecraft.
"I couldn't see him. In my memory, I was pretty scared and upset. What little I saw was really blurry. I couldn't even tell you the color of his skin."
Lois nodded in understanding. "Having your hearing go into overdrive is alarming enough as an adult. I'd hate to imagine how it is perceived as a child."
"Yeah, it was pretty scary. Especially when you don't know why it's happening."
"Do you remember that?" Lois asked gently.
He nodded as she put her hand on his knee, causing him to meet her eyes.
"What?" he asked as she just continued to look at him contemplatively.
"I'm just, well, I was thinking about how it must have been like for you as a child -- having to go through that. And that was just one of your abilities." She took a breath, hoping she wasn't sounding crazy. "I wonder. . . . The world suspects you arrived here before you were an adult, but maybe you were here before you were even a teenager," she said, not sure how else to put her thoughts into words. "Your refusal to answer certain questions before Congress makes a great deal more sense now. You grew up here, were raised here."
Kal-El smiled uncertainly. "I just wish I could remember more."
"You will, you'll see," she encouraged, before they heard a knock at the door.
O o O o O
Jimmy knocked on Lois’ door, shopping bag in hand. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he had learned a long time ago to just do whatever Lois said. There was always a reason behind her madness and it was usually joined by a front page article.
The door opened after many clicks and unlocking of bolts.
“Come on in, Jimmy, hurry,” Lois urged, quickly closing the door behind him the moment he entered.
Bewildered, he turned and watched her dutifully relock everything.
“Good, you got his clothes,” she said, shoving two fifties into his hand after snatching the obvious clothing store bag from him.
“And I went ahead and got us lunch,” he said, unbothered by her lack of restraint as he lifted a second bag in his other hand.
“Oh, Jimmy, you're a lifesaver!” she praised before looking in the clothing bag and bursting into laughter.
"Hey! What's so funny? I thought you of all people would approve of what I got. And it's comfortable and presentable!" he complained.
"Oh, I do approve, Jimmy, it's just really funny that you got this shirt. Follow me to the kitchen and you'll see why," she said, still chuckling.
Still bewildered but happy to finally learn a bit of what this was all about, he followed her into the kitchen.
A tea kettle was on the stove and two steaming mugs were on the table with what he assumed to be a cup of sugar in front of a man seated in the far chair.
His feet were bare and he was in gray sweatpants and a pale blue shirt covered in grease stains. Despite his haphazard attire, Jimmy couldn’t help but feel this man deserved respect, for he sat like his uncle who had been in the military and his frame just seemed to exude quiet confidence and power. Jimmy stopped a few paces from the kitchen table and looked closer, taking in the man’s slicked back black hair and his very familiar looking face.
Jimmy gaped.
“Jimmy, this is Kal-El, or Superman if you prefer. Kal-El, this is Jimmy Olsen, a photographer for the Daily Planet,” Lois introduced, thoroughly enjoying herself as she sat down in the chair beside Superman.
Closing his mouth with a snap before having to close his mouth again after it fell open a second time, Jimmy quickly shook himself and hurried forward.
“Superman! It's an honor to meet you! I'm so glad you're okay!” Jimmy said, taking his offered hand. “Wow. This is . . . wow.”
Superman smiled as he shook his hand. “Nice to meet you too, Jimmy. Lois tells me you take good pictures. You've worked at the Daily Planet for two years now?”
“Oh, yeah. Yes, started soon after high school.” He nodded enthusiastically.
“Would you like some tea, Jimmy?” Kal-El asked, standing up. “The water is still hot."
Jimmy shuffled back, surprised by the offer and bewildered by the fact Superman would do anything in a kitchen. Granted, Lois was Lois, so. . . .
“Sure, tea. Thanks,” he said before taking the empty chair Lois subtly indicated.
“You can relax, Jimmy,” Superman said, chuckling softly at Jimmy's obvious nervousness as he prepared his cup.
“Okay, sorry, it's just, you're, well, Superman.” Jimmy paused and then laughed at himself before Lois and Superman joined him.
Superman stepped back to the table and handed Jimmy his freshly brewed cup of tea before sitting back down.
Jimmy took it and stared at it in awe for a moment, in disbelief that Superman had served him something.
"Well, while Jimmy gets over his stupor, here is what he got for you to wear," Lois said, sliding the bag over to Superman.
Jimmy looked up just as Superman pulled out the sapphire blue t-shirt.
Lois bit her lip to keep from laughing as Superman blinked in surprise.
He held it up and looked at the great red and yellow crest boldly at its center.
"So this was what you were laughing about out there," he said, amused, before smiling at Jimmy. "Thanks, Jimmy."
“You're welcome!” Jimmy said, ecstatic.
"So what's for lunch?" Lois asked as Superman refolded the shirt.
"McDanny's," Jimmy answered, quickly laying out the burgers before them.
O o O
They finished lunch quickly, and Kal-El mused that they had all been pretty hungry, himself included. He leaned back in the chair, wishing it would morph itself into a couch. He was mentally and, admittedly, emotionally exhausted, along with physically weary. That bout with his super hearing had shaken him more than he expressed to Lois and he was still trying to come to grips with it himself.
He really was this ‘Superman’.
Yes, he had believed Lois, and he had seen the dozens of photos of himself in the articles she had shown him, but there is a difference between believing and knowing. And for that knowing to truly sink in.
He could remember his flight to Lois’ window. He couldn’t recall how, but he had flown.
He had defied gravity despite the throb of every movement, despite the suffocating struggle of breathing, because of an instinct, a refusal to die -- the primal drive to get help, to live.
And that morning he had embraced the feeling of the sunlight as readily as breathing. He had felt the power of the sun revitalize his body, vaporizing the pain ebbing from his core, surging power through his veins, and pulsing life into his bones.
And then his hearing had surfaced.
He was Superman.
He looked at his hands, wondering how many lives he had saved with them.
According to the articles, he had saved millions over the years.
And last night he had saved over five and a half billion.
He had saved every single life on the planet.
He couldn’t wrap his mind around it.
"You okay, Superman?" Jimmy hesitantly asked, concerned.
"Yeah, just tired," he said, straightening up.
"Why don't you go and rest, Kal-El? I'll make those calls and let you know if I've reached anyone when you wake," Lois proposed, keeping her tone light - likely for Jimmy’s sake. "Shall I ask Henderson to come here if I can't reach the Foundation?"
He nodded after a moment of thought. "Yes. It's probably best discussed in person anyway." He slowly stood from the chair with the bag of clothes and looked at Jimmy. “Thank you again for the clothes, Jimmy,” he said.
“No problem, Superman!” Jimmy said, standing as well.
“Do you need anything?” Lois asked. “I can get some more pillows. And take the bed again. That room gets the most sun.”
“Thanks. And no, I’m fine, but wake me up if I sleep for more than two hours. I’d like to know if you reach the Foundation or Henderson before too long.”
“Sure,” Lois said, her cheerful tone back.
“Thanks.” Kal-El felt their eyes on his back as he went to the bedroom.
He closed the door behind him and took his shirt off as he set the bag beside the bed and opened the curtains to the nearest window. Sunlight cascaded in, coating the bed in yellow warmth. He laid down on the bed, chest down, allowing his bare back to soak in the rays.
He fell asleep before he had fully relaxed into the pillow.
O o O o O
Lois and Jimmy looked at each other when they heard Kal-El close the door behind him.
"Is he really okay?" Jimmy asked softly.
Lois allowed her guard to drop slightly as she gave a quiet sigh.
"He's doing much, much better than last night," she said.
"So what happened? How did he get here? Can you tell me?" Jimmy asked, still talking just above a whisper.
"He got here on his own, somehow, but he was. . . . If my neighbor hadn't been here with her oxygen, well . . . I don't think I'd be talking with you right now. At least not like this."
"That bad?"
"Yeah."
"But once he got oxygen he was okay?" Jimmy said, hoping for reassurance that it had only been a matter of air supply.
Unfortunately, she couldn't lie to him, not after how much he had helped and would likely continue to help.
"No. He was hypothermic and covered in horrible bruises. Fortunately, all of that went away with sunlight, but-" She took a deep breath and met Jimmy's eyes. "Of everything, this next thing, I'm hoping this won't go public, at least not right away - that’s my goal anyway. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"I understand. I won't ever tell anyone ever, I swear."
"He has amnesia. Everything that happened before the asteroid, everything about himself, he forgot."
Lois looked as ill as Jimmy felt.
"That's . . . that's -- Horrible doesn't even begin to cover it," Jimmy managed.
"A few things have started to trickle back, so I'm hoping if we give him enough time and show him more about himself it'll all return," Lois explained, a bit more hopeful.
Jimmy nodded, determined. "I'll go pick up some news tapes. Maybe seeing himself in action will help, as well as ones of the committee hearing. I'm sure he'd like a recording of his father's message." Jimmy frowned. "He probably doesn't remember where he kept any of his things, huh?"
Lois shook her head ‘no’. "They might be at the Foundation but I don't know. Well, I need to make a few calls," she said.
"I'll go and get those tapes and be back," he said, now on a mission.
"Thanks, Jimmy. Oh, and Perry knows he’s here, so just tell him to wait. We'll still have the exclusive, but Kal-El wants to reach the Foundation to make the announcement of his return that way before anything."
Jimmy nodded. "Makes sense. Does anyone else know yet?” Jimmy asked.
“Just my neighbor, Eleanor Lonham. She was why we had oxygen. She has COPD and was here when he arrived.”
"Wow."
"Yeah. Her being here saved his life. I doubt the paramedics would have made it in time if I had called them,” Lois admitted.
Jimmy slowly stood up, trying not to think too hard on the fact the world had almost lost Superman.
“Let me know if you need me to pick anything else up while I’m out,” Jimmy said.
“I will. Thank you, Jimmy,” she said gratefully.
Jimmy smiled and left soon after.
Lois turned to her phone after locking the door behind Jimmy.
She called the Foundation first, but was once again hit by the same message of no one being able to take her call, although a wait time estimate was added which was currently five hours. Of course, she tried to leave a message, but the voicemail was still full.
A similar roadblock occurred with Murray Brown’s number, as well as Daitch, so, as she had discussed with Kal-El, she resorted to calling Henderson.
“Henderson speaking,” he answered.
She exhaled heavily, grateful that she hadn’t been taken to a voicemail.
“Bill, it’s Lois. Can you come to my apartment as soon as you can, subtly?” she asked in a rush. “It’s very important.”
Henderson didn’t answer immediately, taking in the inflection of her voice. He couldn’t immediately tell if it was a good sort of strain or a bad ‘I’m in trouble’ sort of strain.
“Is this good news?” he asked.
“Yes, but delicate,” she replied.
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” he said.
“Thanks,” Lois said, before hanging up.
O o O o O
Henderson came upon the door and lightly knocked.
The door opened a moment later, which might have been a record of how fast anyone could unlock seven locks, but Henderson was much more interested in who had opened the door.
"Bill, thanks for coming," she said, inviting him in. "Feel free to sit on the couch," she continued as she re-locked the door.
Henderson went into her living room, quickly spotting dozens of papers strewn throughout--her investigation of what had happened at EPRAD.
He sat down on a paper free cushion.
"So is this about what you've uncovered?" he asked, a bit confused about why she would want to discuss it with him first. Did it require action from law enforcement? Did it have a tie to one of her prior investigations--namely the one involving the bombings and LexCorp?
"Actually no," she said before putting her hands on her knees and taking a deep breath after sitting down. She smiled at him. "Kal-El got back last night. I won't go into specifics right now, but he's currently sleeping." She motioned to her bedroom.
Henderson straightened, stunned and absolutely relieved.
"So he's okay? He actually survived and made it back?" he asked, understandably wanting verification.
"He's physically okay now, but he's not completely back to normal. His normal, I mean. But I'll get to that in a moment. Anyway, he wants to contact the Foundation but we haven't been able to reach anyone and publicizing the fact he's back before his own Foundation knows wouldn't be right and would raise questions," Lois began.
"I'm not surprised you haven't been able to reach the Foundation. They have been swamped by well-wishers, reporters and the like. Have you seen the news at all?" he asked.
"A bit, which is why Kal-El wants to let people know he's back. We saw that there are search teams looking for him."
Henderson nodded glumly. "I can't really blame them, but I'll also admit I'm looking forward to when they learn their energy can be focused elsewhere."
Lois nodded her understanding, easily imagining how such groups of people could muddle ordinary support efforts, even though they had good intentions.
"Okay, so back to the Foundation, I take it you want me to bring them a message and get you in contact with someone from over there?"
"Please. I would go myself but I'm a little hesitant in doing so because I don't think they would let me leave soon after telling them he's back. They would want to know details and things he's not ready to share. Besides, there's the investigation to consider. Someone tried to kill him, Bill."
He frowned. "The message he sent, the sabotage, has he said anything about it?"
Lois stilled but decided to just be honest. "About him not being completely back to normal, there's no nice way to say this -- he has amnesia. He doesn't remember anything before the collision."
"What?" Henderson breathed, horrified.
"Yeah," Lois sighed. "Jimmy's gone to get tapes for him to watch that will hopefully jog his memory and I've been answering his questions as best I can."
"So he doesn't remember anything?" Henderson asked.
She shook her head. "He's had a few things he's remembered, but right now, for all intents and purposes, he doesn't remember much at all about himself or what's happened."
"Should he see a doctor?" Henderson asked.
"I'm not sure if that would be helpful, but he's agreed to see one if he doesn't begin remembering more."
Henderson nodded, his thoughts quickly turning to what the public response would be if they knew their savior had lost his memory.
"This isn't going public, correct?" Henderson asked after a moment.
Lois took a deep breath. "I would like to avoid it for as long as possible," Lois said, deciding not to voice Kal's apparent hesitancy in that just yet.
"Good,” he said, trying to think what the next step should be. “Have you uncovered anything in your investigation yet? A possible culprit?”
“I have a few suspects, people who had access to some of the systems affected, but I’m not entirely sure of everything they would have needed,” she said before shuffling through some of the pages. “I suspect they not only severed communications but redirected them. If they had only severed them, why would Kal-El begin showing signs of distress before EPRAD knew something was wrong? There’s also the fact he knew the rocket had been sabotaged. How could he know that unless the person responsible had been in contact with him? I don’t know, it all just seems worse than an assassination attempt. Whoever did this didn’t care about what could have happened to Earth. They endangered the whole world in their attempt to kill him.” Lois clenched her jaw and looked at Henderson. “I know it probably sounds like I’m reaching, but something is telling me this was . . . I don’t know, personal almost.”
“Have you started looking into connections with LexCorp? Former employees of LexCorp now working for EPRAD? Things like that?”
She nodded. “I found one, but there are a few dozen left to check. I also need to consider blackmail. Someone LexCorp might have wanted to pressure or something. There’s also the chance this was someone completely unrelated. Unfortunately, there are probably people out there who just don’t like Kal-El for where he’s from.” She shook her head, saddened by the likely truth of that statement.
“I can start running background checks if you like,” Henderson suggested.
“Okay, just make sure you’re the one doing them. We can’t trust anyone,” Lois warned.
“I will. Send me the list when you have it, but until then, what exactly do you need me to do with the Foundation?” he asked.
“I think delivering a letter and giving Director Ervin my number should be enough for now. We could try meeting with Ervin or something after Kal-El is feeling more like himself though,” Lois decided.
Henderson nodded his agreement, but turned when he heard a noise.
“Kal-El!” Lois said, happy but a little surprised to see him up. “We didn’t wake you, did we?”
Henderson quickly stood and faced the recently downed superhero.
He was wearing dark blue jeans and a t-shirt strikingly reminiscent of his standard uniform, which was joined by white socks. His hair was slicked back and his expression was fairly relaxed.
“No, I woke on my own. The sunlight helped a lot. I should have done that earlier,” he admitted before looking at Henderson.
“Oh! Kal-El, this is Inspector Bill Henderson,” Lois introduced.
Superman stepped up and shook his hand.
"Good afternoon, Inspector," he said.
"Relieved to see you made it back, Superman," Henderson returned.
Superman tilted his head. "Have we met before? You seem familiar."
Henderson straightened, partly in surprise but also in hope and a bit of pride. "Yes, a few times, and those meetings mainly concerned the bombings that occurred a few months ago."
Superman slowly nodded, confused. Admittedly, it was unnerving to see such an expression on someone so powerful.
"Well, I've updated Henderson on everything so we just need to let him know exactly what to tell the Foundation," Lois explained.
"Okay. Thank you, Inspector," Superman said before coming around as Lois cleared a place for him on the couch. "I've given a little more thought on what to do, so this is what I think. . . ."
O o O o O
Mav looked up as the Foundation’s head security guard, Howard Stone, escorted a man into his office.
“This is Inspector Henderson. He says he has a message from Superman,” Howard said.
Mav quickly put down the phone, abandoning the unending task of clearing voicemail. Julie and the handful of volunteers were busy answering the phones while Brown was busy with reporters and the like at the moment since Mav had handled things that morning.
“Yes?” Mav asked.
He of course recognized Henderson’s name and trusted Howard to not allow some nut into the building and waste time.
“I was asked to ensure you read it and read it in private,” Henderson said, glancing apologetically at Howard as he held out an envelope.
Howard raised his hands and politely excused himself, not about to hinder the delivery of Superman’s message, whatever it said.
Howard shut the door behind him as Mav took the letter.
Mav opened the envelope and quickly read the contents. He sagged in relief, placing his right hand on the corner of his desk to ensure he remained stable.
“I’ll schedule the press conference for this evening after he arrives,” he said with a wide, grateful smile. “Thank you for delivering the message. I assume you know its contents?”
“I was there when it was written,” Henderson said honestly.
“All right. Entering from the side door will probably be best, and I'll have security keep a more watchful eye all around when it's time for him to arrive,” Mav said.
Henderson nodded. “Thank you. I'll orchestrate things with the police department as well.”
“I trust he has been resting? I know some good, trustworthy doctors, so if you feel it necessary, I can give you their contact information or even ask them to come here for you,” Mav suggested.
Although the letter didn’t outright say, there was enough there to suggest that it would be a while before Kal-El could return to actual superhero duties.
Henderson hesitated but nodded his head after a moment. “I’ll take their names and numbers.”
Mav hid his concern fairly well as he quickly jotted down the information.
“They’re unconventional, but Kal-El being who he is. . . .” Mav said delicately, handing the paper to Henderson.
“I understand. Thank you,” Henderson said, taking the sheet.
Mav suspected the inspector would run background checks on each name, which he certainly didn't fault him for.
Henderson departed soon after.
O o O o O
Paul Isaacs was giddy but nervous.
Superman was coming.
Mr. Ervin had informed them a few hours before and now they were expecting him to arrive within the next half hour. They were told he would arrive in a dark blue SUV driven by Inspector Henderson, who some of them had seen earlier that day - presumably to deliver a message from the Man of Steel himself.
Working with the police department, who had officers in civilian clothing around the building for added security on top of a handful of uniformed officers, they were as ready as they could be.
Over the past few hours they had gently guided the crowd of well-wishers far enough away from the building to cordon off the side entrance. It was hoped that Superman would be able to enter that way without too many people noticing him.
No one asked why he was coming by car.
Paul glanced back through the glass doors behind him. There were many, many more volunteers than there were earlier in the week, or even that morning. Not long before the news of Nightfall came out, the Foundation added more than twenty new individuals to their staff, and the word was that Superman had given the go for it in preparation for the efforts that would be needed. Over a dozen were on the second floor, going through supplies and organizing where things were needed now that shelters were no longer necessary for Nightfall. Three were on the first floor, doing their best to go through the long list of people waiting on the phone lines while two others were going through the Foundation's voice mail and recording pertinent messages to be addressed later, if not immediately.
He did not envy them.
Suddenly, his radio gave a chirp and his boss' voice followed.
"Five minutes away."
Paul straightened, glancing at Kathy, a fellow guard, standing at the back corner of the building.
She tossed him an uneasy smile, all the while the crowd filling the majority of the surrounding streets continued their quiet vigil.
Vehicles had been coming and going from the Foundation throughout the course of the day, delivering and receiving donations to and from a plethora of locations across the city and beyond. Hopefully the coming SUV would not garner any more attention than those vehicles.
It was mind boggling how many people had come together to help prepare for what they had all feared could come. Thankfully, Nightfall had been diverted and all of their preparations could now be repurposed.
Kathy lifted her arm, signaling to him that a vehicle was coming down the street, and by the look on her face he knew it was the blue SUV.
Less than a minute later, the inspector's vehicle turned into view and Paul felt his pulse quicken.
It stopped at the curb, a pace from his right and the back passenger door was right across from the Foundation's side entrance.
He broke himself from his stupor and opened the car door, before promptly freezing as he took in the form sitting just within the car.
The man had on a black leather jacket and a black beanie with blue jeans and simple sneakers.
Paul couldn’t help but wonder if there had been some mistake, but before he could do anything, the man who was presumably Superman got out of the car.
“Thanks,” he said.
“You’re welcome,” Paul said automatically, closing the door behind him before a volunteer within the Foundation hurriedly opened the side door and waved them in.
Paul glanced back to look at the driver, but the SUV was already pulling away as the crowd on the main street began to press in curiously.
They made it inside a moment later and Mav was there to greet them. Mav apparently had no doubt this man was Superman, despite his attire, and clasped his offered hand.
The few people within stopped what they were doing and stared.
Mav was not a big man, but average in height and build. His thick glasses told of aging eyes and though his white hair further supported his advanced years, his mobility and energy seemed to mock time as he welcomed the young man before him.
"It's a relief to see you well, but let's get you upstairs before anything else, Kal-El," Mav said, looking up at him.
Unfortunately, the stairs lay on the other side of the reception area, which was completely viewable to anyone looking in from the front of the building - including the packed street.
Paul refused to look toward the vigil occurring outside as he joined the tiny entourage which now also included Julie Heinz, the Foundation's Coordinator, and Howard Stone, his immediate boss, the Head of Security.
Going toward the stairwell, Superman took off his hat, revealing slicked back, black hair while giving Paul a much better look at him. His face was calm and inviting, although not as serious as the news often showed. His olive skin was unblemished but there was the barest hint of a five o'clock shadow on his face.
It was in that moment, as the group headed up the stairs without him, when realization came over Paul.
This really was Superman.
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