Clark held her until her shaking subsided. “I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair. “I wish there was something I could do.”
Lois wiped her eyes. “Don’t worry, Clark. You’re doing it.”
Clark smiled softly. “Lay down, Lois. I’ll be right in.” He guided her head to her pillow gently, before returning to her living room. There he changed into pajamas and turned off the television. After that, he came back to the bedroom and slipped into bed beside Lois. He held her close and they both fell fast asleep.
* * * * *
Clark awakened early and felt restless. He was sure that Lois would be sleeping pretty late after all of the drinking she’d done. So, he got up and made himself some breakfast, did a bit of exercising, and logged on to Lois’ computer. He replied to some e-mails that had been filling his dailyplanet.com inbox. He also searched for information on the Hyde and SEEC rapist. He didn’t see any pattern in the women the rapist sought out. Women seemed to be chosen simply because they were alone on the subway. He was interrupted by the sounds of Lois getting sick in the bathroom.
“Lois...?” he called. “Are you all right in there?”
“If by ‘all right’ you mean incredibly sick and hung over, then yes,” she replied, sputtering.
“I’ll get you a glass of water,” Clark replied, first making sure he closed out of the web browser where he’d been reading about the serial rapist. He poured her some water and put ice in it, then knocked on the bathroom door. “Are you decent?”
“Define ‘decent.’”
Ah. It was nice having the old Lois back.
Clark went in hesitantly. He offered Lois his hand, stood her up and seated her on the closed lid of the toilet. “Here you go, drink up.” He put the glass in her hands, before looking in her medicine cabinet. He handed her two aspirin tablets.
“Thanks. My head is pounding,” she said, swallowing the pills. “Remind me to never drink again. Ever.”
“You got it, Lois!” Clark said, laughing a little. He took her hand and guided her to the couch. “Would you like some coffee? I just made some. You should drink a lot. You’re probably dehydrated.”
“Thank you, Dr. Kent.” The sarcasm was evident in her voice. “But a cup of coffee *does* sound really good right about now...” she mused, her voice softening at his concern. “Can you also hand me my bag over there?”
Clark returned with a cup of coffee and Lois’ handbag, and sat beside her. She began rooting through the bag, and drew a business card out of it eventually.
“What’s that?” Clark asked.
Lois showed him the card. “They gave this to me at the hospital. She’s a rape crisis counselor. Her name is Robyn. I thought I’d give her a call today.”
‘So she really is going to do it,’ thought Clark gratefully. “I think that’s a great idea, Lois. I really do.”
* * * * *
That afternoon, Lois began feeling significantly better. She made an appointment to see the counselor. Lois had expressed desire to have a session before she went to see Ian, so they were able to squeeze in an appointment for her that same day.
Clark dropped her off at the counselor’s office, and promised to pick her up after the session was over. In the mean time, it gave Superman a solid hour to patrol the city, and for that he was grateful.
Lois was only a little nervous to go, now that she realized the pros of counseling outweighed the cons. She’d seen that she could act completely out of character, simply because she hadn’t had any constructive way of dealing with her pain and anger. And worse, not only had she potentially harmed herself, she’d almost pushed away the one person who was her closest and dearest friend. She could not afford these losses. It was time to do something about it.
She entered the office; it was pleasant inside. After only a few minutes in the waiting area, a woman entered the room.
“Lois?”
“Yes. That’s me,” Lois said, standing up.
“I’m Robyn. I’m so glad you called.” Robyn shook Lois’ hand. “Follow me right this way.”
Lois liked Robyn immediately. There was nothing intimidating about her at all. She expected to be interrogated with tons of questions. Instead, Robyn carefully guided Lois to talking about her feelings as though the two of them were having a conversation. Lois confessed her feelings of shame over the incident, as well as her idea that the crime had been partially her fault for going someplace unsafe. She explained Clark’s role in her recovery, and her fears of getting romantically involved while trying to sort through her issues. She admitted her denial about attending counseling at all. She told Robyn about how awful last night had been, her cruelty to Clark leading her to finish off a whole bottle of wine herself.
Robyn, in turn, was not judgmental about anything. She listened carefully to Lois’ confessional, and offered her alternate ways to deal with her emotions. Robyn also recommended some group counseling when Lois was ready to talk about her ordeal openly. Another option was to attend private sessions with a friend or family member, if she needed to.
The hour was over before Lois knew it, and she thanked Robyn and set up another appointment. She left the office feeling surprisingly better.
* * * * *
Clark was waiting in the parking lot when Lois finished. “How did it go?” He hardly had to ask. The relieved expression on her face said enough.
“Actually, it went really well,” she answered with a smile. “Robyn is amazing, and I’ve set up another appointment with her already. Thanks for making me go.”
“Lois, you made yourself go. I just drove you crazy until you made the right decision!”
Seeing her laugh was priceless.
* * * * *
The following day, Lois and Clark went to the Saint Joseph’s Soup Kitchen, in hopes of meeting Ian Johnson. Lois gripped Clark’s hand, unashamed, as they made their way up the stone steps in the back of the old church. They stood in the corner of the hall, which had been converted into a soup kitchen during the lunchtime hours. Clark looked at his partner as she scanned the room. She seemed to be gripping his hand even harder.
He gave her hand an encouraging squeeze and she let up a bit. “Lois? Are you sure you want to do this? We can wait another few days or so...” Clark whispered.
“No,” Lois said firmly. “I need this.”
They were there for a few minutes before a pastor spotted them. “Hello, you must be Lois Lane and Clark Kent. I’m Father Peter. Nice to meet you.”
Lois let go of Clark’s hand to shake Peter’s. “It’s nice to meet you, Father. Thank you for agreeing to let us meet Ian here.”
“Yes, it’s pretty unorthodox to let the press into the soup kitchen, as we like to keep everyone’s identity anonymous. But under the circumstances, I thought it would be okay. Ian knows you’re coming. I asked his permission first.”
“We’re not really investigating, per se,” Clark noted.
“This is more for myself. To move on after what happened,” Lois added.
“Of course, Ms. Lane,” the pastor said gently. “May you find the peace you’re looking for.” He gave her an encouraging smile. “Here comes Ian now.” Father Peter called out to Ian and beckoned him. “Ian Johnson, I’d like you to meet Clark Kent and Lois Lane.”
Ian shook Clark’s hand, then Lois’. He took a little extra time with Lois, giving her a careful once-over. “Miss Lois, I’m glad to see you’re looking well,” he said.
Lois smiled shyly. “Thank you for coming to talk to us today.”
“We’d like to take you out to lunch, Mr. Johnson,” Clark started. When Ian protested, Clark insisted. The trio walked to a nearby local restaurant. Lois was heartbroken when she noticed Ian’s shoes; they were so worn out. He wore two flannel shirts, both too threadbare to keep out the wind. His large hands were weathered and cracked from the cold. She felt compelled to help him in some way. After all, he had helped her when she was at her worst.
Lois and Clark each ordered a large meal, mainly to encourage humble Ian to do the same. It worked, and it pleased Lois to see the gaunt man eating a thick, sirloin steak. While they ate, they kept the conversation light. Lois wondered just how to steer the discussion to the matter at hand. After she finished, she excused herself to go to the ladies’ room before breaching the delicate subject.
“That Miss Lois sure is somethin’,” Ian said, once Lois was out of earshot. “She is a lovely woman. It is such a shame that this happened to her.”
“Tell me about it,” sighed Clark.
“Are you two...?”
“No. Not really. Not yet,” Clark fumbled, trying to find the words. “We’re partners at the Daily Planet, and best friends. And we’ve talked about becoming more than friends. But we won’t take that step until she’s ready.”
“Understood. I only asked because you can tell. Chemistry, I guess.” Ian chuckled. Then his expression turned serious. “How’s she doing, since it happened?”
“She’s getting better every day. It’s hard for her, not knowing what happened. I’m sure she has a lot of questions for you...” Clark sighed, shaking his head. “That’s Lois for you. Has to know everything. She says it will help her move on.”
Ian nodded. “It probably will.”
“I can’t thank you enough for helping her--” Clark began.
“Hush, now. It was nothing. I was glad to be able to help,” Ian interrupted. “I’m happy to see her now. Poor girl’s been giving me nightmares. I tried to find out how she was doing at the hospital, but they wouldn’t give any information, seeing as how I’m not friends or family. It was eating me alive, wondering if she even made it or not.”
*If she even made it or not.* The words struck Clark hard. Until he heard Ian say it, he hadn’t really thought of the possibility that Lois could have lost her life. After all, Amanda Byers had paid that price. Lois could have, too, if Ian hadn’t found her.
“Either way,” Ian continued, “she’s a lovely woman. You seem like a nice fella. Take good care of her, Clark.”
“I will,” Clark said, smiling. “Don’t worry.”
The two men cut their conversation short when they saw Lois approaching the table. She sat next to Clark, and he gave her hand a little squeeze under the table.
“Miss Lois? Clark here was telling me you had some questions about what happened?” Ian asked carefully.
“Yes,” Lois said, maintaining her cool front. “Can you tell me what you remember about the night it happened?”
Ian unclasped his hands and clasped them again, resting them on the table. “Well, it was Thanksgiving, you know. I thought I’d spend the night riding the train back and forth, seeing as how I’d collected enough change for a ride. I don’t often do that, but if you’ll remember, Miss Lois, it was very cold that night.”
“I remember,” she said softly, nodding.
“The train came to a stop, and I got on, thinking there was nobody in there. I was mistaken, because there you were sprawled out on the floor, with this fella on top of you trying to take advantage of you. I shouted, and the guy bolted. I tried to wake you, but you were unconscious. I found your cell phone in your bag.” Ian looked ashamed for a second. “Pardon me for going into your bag, Miss Lois. I didn’t take anything, I just wanted to get you some help.”
Lois was shocked that he said that at all. “I know that, Ian. I wasn’t even *thinking* that.”
Ian shrugged. “There’s some folks who live on the streets who would have been thrilled to find someone such as yourself in that situation. Makes it real easy to loot somebody. But I’m not like that.”
Lois was touched. She nodded and waited for him to continue.
“Well, I called 9-1-1. Told them what I’d seen, and that I was with you. They had me push the emergency stop button on the train, so they could find us easily when the ambulance came. In the meantime, your breath was shallow, and your pulse too. I tried to keep a close watch to make sure nothing changed. You started to get sick, so I turned your head so as you wouldn’t choke. I’ve heard that’s how that Amanda Byers died. No one found her, and she got sick and choked to death, poor girl.” Ian shook his head sadly.
“I stayed with you until they took you away to the hospital. After that, there were police officers who wanted to question me. I described the guy as best I could. I didn’t get that good a look at him, but I did my best,” Ian said. “That’s what happened, Miss Lois.”
Lois was quiet for a moment, letting it sink in. After a moment, she asked softly, “What was the man doing when you walked in? What was he doing to me?”
Ian looked ashamed for a moment. He wondered why she’d want to know all of that. He hated to talk about a lady in such a situation. “Well, like I said, I only saw him for a second. He had you spread out and he was trying to undo his pants with one hand. That’s how I knew for sure what his intentions were.”
Lois felt her cheeks burn as she asked her next question. “And his other hand...?”
Ian answered honestly. “On your inner thigh, trying to keep your legs apart, I suppose.” He hated to tell her something like that. “He had rolled your stockings down to your ankles. It’s like your feet were tied together. I guess it was an effort to keep you in that position.”
Lois felt Clark’s hand rub hers gently under the table. She took a deep breath. “My stockings were rolled down, you said?”
Ian nodded gravely. “Underwear too. He had your skirt up and your blouse and your jacket torn open. I promise, I... didn’t really look. I covered you up as soon as the man was gone.”
“Thank you,” she said softly. It was amazing that her modesty mattered to him. It was a comfort, in a way.
“It was scary, Miss Lois,” Ian admitted, shaking his head. “I’m just glad I was able to help, and that you’re all right now.”
“Ian, what did he look like?”
“He had a trench coat on, and he had sandy blond hair and a full beard. He looked maybe 50 or 55 years old, but it was hard to tell with the beard. I described him to the police, and the artist at the station did a pretty good sketch of him. He may look very different now. Maybe he’s clean-shaven. But his most distinguishing feature is his very pale blue eyes. Deep-set and intense, they are,” Ian said, carefully recalling the details. “He also looks like his nose may have been broken before. It’s slightly crooked.”
Lois looked up at Clark, a pensive look on her face. “Clark...? Remember when I had that last nightmare? And I told you I saw his face?”
“I remember,” Clark said softly, with a nod.
“I saw him. I could recognize him. Those eyes--” She shuddered, and Clark squeezed her hand under the table again.
“Miss Lois,” Ian interrupted. “I’ll gladly testify if and when they catch him. I could identify him.”
Ian’s testimony would definitely be more solid than Lois’, especially since she’d been under the influence of the GHB. She nodded her understanding and thanked Ian again. “I guess... that’s all I wanted to know,” she said, heaving a sigh.
“Well, if you think of anything else, come on by St. Joe’s again. I’ll be glad to help in any way I can,” Ian replied, standing up. “Thanks for the hot meal. That was too kind of you.”
“It was nothing,” Clark said. “If there’s anything we can do for you, please let us know.”
Ian nodded and shook Clark’s hand. He turned to do the same with Lois, but instead both felt compelled to hug.
“Thank you, Ian. For everything,” Lois said.
* * * * *
