Hey everyone!
I'd like to apologize for taking so long to post this section. I've wanted to get back to this for a while now, but exams have kept me from doing so (against my will, I must say
)
But, hey, it's finally here, so I hope I still have some readers out there. With luck, this will be done in no more than two or three weeks. I'll try to be back same time next week with part nine, or at the beginning of the following week at most.
Before I let you on with the story, I want to thank you guys for the great response I've been getting with this story so far. I surely didn't expect it. It means a lot. And thanks also to Jose for his encouragement and Tricia for her invaluable help and support. Couldn't have done it without you, guys!
Cris
NOTHING BUT A LUTHOR ON THE WAY, 8
Luthor knew. As aware as he'd been of it when he'd arrived at the penthouse, it hadn't been until he'd greeted him with that crooked smile of his and the evil touch in his voice as he'd spoken his name – his real name- that he had truly realized what it meant.
His thoughts soon run to the quiet farmhouse in Kansas where his parents would be carrying through their daily chores, fully unaware of the threat his life – and theirs as a result - was facing. And it wasn't just any threat; after all, what wouldn't Luthor do? He'd already put him through hell in the short time they'd known each other, and that had been before he'd been mindful of where his real vulnerability lay. Superman had friends, or course; it was common knowledge that the hero's relationship with Lois Lane and Clark Kent was closer than with the average citizen. But until now, there had been nothing linking Superman with Jonathan and Martha Kent, the single most important people in the world for him, for Clark. And that was no longer a secret for Luthor. He'd been so worried about Lois's reaction upon discovering his secret that he'd taken for granted all the other implications. Not for the first time, he'd behaved selfishly, ignoring the repercussions his stupid acts could have on everyone he cared about. His mom and dad, his friends... Lois.
Damn! What a fool he'd been He should have told her why he kept accusing Luthor; he should have told her there was more than jealousy behind his words. But instead he'd allowed his feeling to cloud up his reasoning, making it look as if he were simply staking his claim on her.
There had to be a way to fix this; he couldn't lose everything he'd been working for all of his life.
With an air of superiority about him, Luthor broke the silence, “I was wondering when you'd show up. What with your superspeed, I'd never thought it would take so long. I guess I expected you to be eager to know.”
He put his musings aside before shifting his attention back to the millionaire. It didn't take a wise man to know that Luthor had been intently preparing for this encounter; there was probably not much use in avoiding his little games; it probably would be better if he didn't try. With luck, it would at least help him know what Luthor's intentions were. “Know what, Luthor?”
“You know, there's one thing about you that has me truly intrigued. You behavior seems to be intelligent enough most of the times, well apart from the fact that you've willing chosen to obtain no benefit from your powers other than everybody's – almost everybody's- gratitude and admiration. Yet there are moments when you don't seem able to take the simplest of hints.” As the last of his words were out, he allowed his gaze to fall fully on the hero's face, relishing on the uneasiness he was creating in him. He didn't even try to hold back the pride the image before him generated.
“What do you want, Luthor?”
Smiling, he replied, “A few days back I would have thought that was obvious but now I'm not even sure myself. I've spent quite some time pondering my options, yet I haven't been able to decide on any. Though I certainly hope you've had the time to think things through and reconsider.”
With great effort, Clark tried to remain calm. Losing his patience would lead him nowhere, he reminded himself. “Reconsider what, Luthor? Working for you?”
“Well, now that you mention, that too. But I was actually referring to something else. Boy, your memory is a little comatose lately, isn't it? I was simply "hoping' you'd changed your mind about attending the wedding.”
“Not in your life, Luthor.” The words were out before he could stop them. It was an impulsive reply; probably more than he could afford given the circumstances, but Luthor's attitude had helplessly gotten to him.
Even the man of steel's patience had its limits, or so it seemed. It helped, of course, that he'd skillfully worked his way through it. How could he not be satisfied? And how could he keep it from showing? Not that he intended to, though. “Now aren't we being a little too categorical? It would be much easier if the choice was yours, really. On the other hand, it probably wouldn't be as fun as "making' you come. Look Kent – you don't actually mind if I use your real name, do you? Superman makes you seem anything but human.” Slowly, Luthor approached his desk and opened the first drawer. With great care, he pulled out a small, black box. “I don't want you to see this as a threat. It actually shouldn't be. Given your current situation, this is probably the smallest of your worries, but...” As he opened the box, a soft green glow lighted the room.
As pain began to show on Clark's face, Luthor closed the box again. “I really don't want to resort to this. Honest. So I hope you'll cooperate. In case you aren't willing, this rock, however, will be the last thing on your mind. If there's one thing I've learnt about you, Mr. Clark Kent, is that you would take all the physical pain required if it meant protecting the people you care about. And that, which may seem in the eyes of many as your most valuable virtue, will doubtlessly be your biggest weakness.” He paused briefly and stared at the hero's face to make sure his words were sinking in the way they should. Deciding he'd drawn the silence long enough, he finished, “Like I said, whether you attend the wedding or not is entirely your choice. What's out o f your control, however, are the consequences of that decision I know you're a wise man, Kent; make the right choice. Make mom and dad – even Lois- saf... proud.”
****************
When the first knock came, Lois decided she wouldn't move. She was too comfortable sprawled on her couch for one thing, and she actually didn't feel like talking to anyone. After the latest events, she was likely to find Clark or Lex standing behind her door. If it was Clark, he'd already said enough; if the one standing on her doorway was Lex, she simply didn't want to see him. She was marrying the man tomorrow: she' be seeing a lot of him for the rest of her life.
<<Forever, >> she thought. Did she really know what she was getting herself into? She had never really lived with anyone, apart from her family and her college roommates, and neither experience had turned out to be excessively pleasing. At home, she'd managed to have huge fights with her father, even though he'd never really been around long enough. Ellen Lane hadn't been what you'd call supportive of anything she'd ever done either, though her responses when she was under the effects of vodka, whisky – or whatever it had been at the time- should probably not be taken into account. Compared to that, however, her relationship with Lucy, her younger sibling, could almost be considered idyllic.
And her college roommates... That was a chapter of her life almost as disastrous as her love life. She'd either not gotten along with them or, after a promising start and what had seemed like the beginning of a nice friendship, ended up on non-speaking terms.
And now Lex... Would things work out? There had to be someone she could get along with; the world couldn't be filled only with liars and deceit experts. But could Lex be that someone?
Deep down, she could hear that nosy voice again, trying to take her attention back to *him *. To Clark. For the thousandth time, she ignored it, reminding herself and her prying conscience that Clark had turned out to be just like the rest. As worthy as he'd seemed, with his traditional upbringing, his gentle manners... he'd been just pretending, and she'd fallen for it, even when she'd promised herself not that long ago that she never again would.
A little startled, she realized the knocking had been intensely increasing and had become rather hard to ignore. What did it take to convince someone that you weren't home? Gruffly, loud enough for her insistent visitor to hear, she called, “Who is it?”
From behind the door came a feminine voice. “Your enthusiasm touches me, sis!”
“Lucy? Is that you?”
“And here I thought it'd be obvious. Of course it's me! Do you plan to continue this conversation like this much longer? Because if you do, I might as well sit down in the hallway.”
Soon afterwards, Lois had covered the distance to the door and was carefully unlocking it, ready to let her sister in. As soon as they were facing each other, the younger Lane gave her a smile. “Great, you're finally letting me in! What an honor!”
Ignoring her sister's mockery, Lois corresponded with a smile of her own, as she brought Lucy into a hug. “Good to see you too.”
They held on to each other for a couple of minutes before breaking apart. Then, Lois led her sister inside the apartment and settled herself back on the couch, before addressing her again, a questioning look on her face, “What are you doing here? I thought you weren't going to be able to make it.”
“Yeah, well, one doesn't often get the chance to see her older –and only - sister get married...” And adopting a mischievous look, she finished, “mostly if it's Lois-I'll-never-get married-cuz-men are all slimeballs-Lane!”
Lois reached for one of the cushions and, as she shot her a threatening smile, threw it towards where the younger Lane was standing.
After ducking to avoid being hit, Lucy joined her sister on the couch. “So, how's the future Mrs. Luthor doing? Have the wedding arrangements unleashed Mad Dog Lane yet, or are you saving it for your wedding night?” Before any more objects came flying her way, Lucy elaborated, “Ok, seriously. How are you doing? Nervous?”
What was she feeling? So much had been happening over the last few days, she wasn't sure what she thought or felt any longer. She was mad at Clark, that was sure, but she wasn't all that happy about Lex's behavior either. Clark had lied and obviously it wasn't something pleasant, but Lex seemed to be trying to control her and that was something she could never appreciate. Yet with her words when he'd called, she was sure Lex wouldn't know that. She'd openly let him off the hook. Of course she'd told him his behavior had bothered her, but she'd also accepted what had seemed like a sincere apology from him. Making an effort – and failing- to leave her confusion out of her answer, she hesitantly spoke, “I'm... I'm fine, I guess.” But as the words left her mouth, she realized she couldn't lie; there was no way she could fool Lucy; she knew her too well. “I'm a mess, Luce.” It was all it took for her to break down.
Lucy scooted closer to her on the couch, and rested her arm over her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her. “Hey, sis, what's wrong?”
Trying to remain calm, or as much as she could at least, she tried to explain her fuzzy thoughts, “I keep telling myself that I have plenty of reasons to be happy. The same questions continue coming up, over and over. Shouldn't I be excited about the wedding, grateful that a man handsome, rich, powerful... wants to spend his life with me and fulfill my every whim?” As she spoke, her eyes grew shiny, as tears threatened to roll down her cheeks. With every fear she voiced, holding the droplets back became a harder task. “I have a nice job; I can't complain about the pay. And even though our family is far from being perfect, I do have you, and mom... and maybe, in a way, even dad. There are so many people who don't have that much yet still wear smiles on their faces. What is wrong with me? Why am I feeling so empty? It feels that as years go by nothing changes substantially in my life. Still, I can't help feeling selfish...”
A little worried, Lucy allowed her hold to become tighter, trying to reassure her to go on. With her free hand, she wiped away one of the tears that had ended escaping her sister's eye. “You're not selfish, Lois. You're just beginning to admit that there are some things you'd always thought you could live without that you actually need. And it doesn't make you look weaker to let this all out. But I have the feeling there's still something more.”
Not trying to stop her tears any longer, Lois raised her gaze to meet her sister's. “You're right; there's something else. Actually, not just something else. I've pushed away one of the few people that really cared about me. Luce, you know how hard it is for me to confide in someone. I can't help it; I've been hurt, once too many. And it doesn't seem to change. Every time I do put my trust in somebody, they either walk away, or turn out to be liars... and I get hurt all over again.” A sob escaped her lips and when she spoke again, her voice was barely a whisper, “I miss Clark! But I can't help being mad at him. I thought he was different and yet...”
As her sister's voice trailed off, Lucy brought her other arm around her, securing her in a hug. “Come on, Lois. It can't be that bad. I don't really know Clark, but by what you've told me about him, he definitely seems like a good guy.”
Her voice a mere mumble, partially blocked by her sister's chest, Lois tried – unsuccessfully- to explain, “ I thought he was, but he... he...”
“He what, Lois? What did he do? Did he steal your story?” When Lois shook her head as a response, she asked again, “Did he sleep with you and then forgot all about you? Just left you behind?” Lois shook her head in denial again. “Then, what was it?”
Lifting her head slightly, Lois looked at Lucy through her moist eyes. “He... There was something he'd hidden from me, that he hadn't told, and I found out elsewhere. I thought he trusted me and really respected me the way I did him, but as always, it seems he'd been fooling me all along.”
Though Lois wasn't saying much – and Lucy wasn't about to force her into it-, the hurt expression she bore told her a lot about the magnitude of Clark's deceit. Or at least, about the magnitude it had for Lois. She was well aware of her sister's apprehension where men were concerned; that was exactly why she thought Clark had to be really special if she was finally opening up to him. She didn't mean to dismiss the motives behind her sister's anger, but, given her past experiences, she was afraid that Lois would tend to exaggerate the situation. And, for some reason, Lucy was sure that she'd regret it if she didn't at least try to work things out with Clark. “Again, Lois, I barely know him, but Clark doesn't seem to be that kind of man.”
Lois's response was bitter. “Well, he certainly didn't deny a word; much the opposite.”
The younger Lane remained silent for a few moments. She needed to find the way to tell her that she had to reconsider things, that she had to give Clark a chance. But how could she do that without getting her sister to tell her to mind her own business? As sure as she was that it was the right thing to do, she was also sure Lois would tell her that she couldn't understand the scale of Clark's deceit. “Lois, I know you're hurt. I don't know what it was that Clark kept from you, so I can't fairly judge whether you're overreacting or not, but I'm sure of one thing: You really care about Clark; otherwise you wouldn't feel this way. And with that being so, I'm sure you'd regret it if you didn't try to work things out.” And as Lois was about to respond, Lucy added, “Please, don't say anything; simply take my advice; just this once. If you feel the same way after you've thought things through, I won't argue.”
She didn't know if it was because of the late hour, or simply because she was too tired of arguing, but she didn't oppose her sister's suggestion. She doubted it that it would make her see things from a more positive perspective, but maybe Lucy was right and it was worth a try.
***************************************************
A few hours later, Lois lay in bed, wide awake and with her gaze fixed on the ceiling, as the soft glow of a street light filtered through her slightly open window. She rolled to the edge of the bed and threw a quick glance at the alarm clock. 2 a.m. She silenced a groan. In only a few hours, she'd have to be up and going. She turned again, so she was facing the figure lying next to her. She was sound asleep. Actually, she'd been that way for quite a while now, but she could easily understand.
Lucy's visit, though unexpected, had been comforting in a way she couldn't have anticipated. It had been a long time since they'd last talked and even if they rarely agreed, Lucy had always been willing to listen to her, that is, once Lois had stopped shutting her out. For some reason, she had long believed that the younger Lane could never understand her, that she was much too young. But there was no way that she would ever regret having let her in her life. She even found herself enjoying her big sister role, though she'd never admit it to anyone but herself.
Tonight, they'd sat on the couch in front of a tub of ice cream for a long while, as Lucy told her about the latest wackos she'd dated. And it wasn't that she'd run out of weird –and outrageously funny- anecdotes, but there had been a point where there were more yawns than words in her sister's speech and, reluctantly, they'd had to call it a day. Lucy had then insisted on taking the couch, but she hadn't allowed it and had instead suggested that they share her bed.
And here she was now, staring at her dimly lit bedroom, only a few hours before her wedding, and without the faintest trace of sleep. With the amount of activity taking place in her mind, however, that was hardly surprising. Activity which, no matter how hard she fought, kept directing her thoughts back to him. How could Clark have become so important to her in such little time? She'd long ago stopped giving men the time of day; she'd settled that she'd never come to depend on a man. Yet with Clark, it was... different. Needing him didn't make her feel weak, rather the opposite. His mere closeness was enough for her to realize that, if anything, he made her stronger. His faith in her fed her own faith in herself. If she doubted, he reassured her, and far from seeming like an attempt at controlling her, unsettling, dangerous, it felt soothing.
Most of that, however, had been clouded by her latest discoveries. Lucy had told her to try and see things from a different perspective, but which? There was no way she could ignore his lies.
<<But there was a reason... and you know you're not being fair. >>
That voice again. When had Lois Lane grown a conscience? Furthermore, when had she grown a conscience that showed so adamantly all the things she tried so hard to ignore? After all, did Clark's reasons for hiding his secret matter? A lie was always a lie. It was a matter of trust.
<<Oh, please, listen to yourself! When did YOU give him a reason to trust you in the first place? He had to put up with your ignoring him for weeks before you began giving him a small fraction of your attention. >>
The worst part of having a conscience, she thought, was that its specialty seemed to be bringing up all the arguments you could never refute. If she wasn't going to be honest to the world, she had to at least stop lying to herself. And assuming her guilt was part of that too.
It wouldn't do any harm, anyway. Her friendship with Clark was probably ruined forever.
And as the thought sank in, for the first time, she felt empty. Life without Clark. Why did the prospect sound so scary?
This time, she didn't have to wait for the nosy voice to break in; she knew her answer: because no one would ever put up with her –all of her- the way he did. Because no one would be there for her whenever she needed them, even if it was for the most trivial of issues.
And it hit her. Clark had been there for her, unconditionally, whether he'd been wearing one of his wild ties or that spandex suit of his; it was always his concern for her well being that surfaced. How could she not have noticed? How could all the outstanding qualities she'd seen in Superman have looked so dull? Or had they? Because it really wasn't that she'd never realized how gentle Clark was, how compassionate. <<No, Clark's so much more than that, >> she thought. <<He's generous, caring...>> Sorrowfully, she realized that no one could ever offer the kind of love Clark had; no one would ever love her like he did.
SHE would never love anyone then way she loved him.
As she noticed the tears dwelling up in her eyes, she instinctively brought a finger up to her face to brush away the first of them.
None of that mattered now; it was too late.
And as she dismissed the last thoughts of Clark, she curled up in bed and cried, silently, until she finally fell asleep.
*******
As the sun took its place in the sky among the few clouds scattered about, the city of Metropolis prepared itself for what was likely to become the event of the year; for the one celebration that was bound to occupy as many front-page headlines as Superman's first appearance, a little less than a year back. Today was the day Lex Luthor, one of the city's greatest benefactors, the world's third richest man, was to be wed, and to none other that Daily Planet star reporter Lois Lane.
END OF PART 8
