from last time...

~~~~~~~~~~~

After looking at Clark’s ‘sleeping’ form for a few minutes more, and listening to the beautiful and reassuring sounds of his breathing and the beeping of the heart monitor in the quiet room, Lois stood up, gently woke the Kents, and walked arm in arm with them out of Clark’s hospital room, with the hope and the promise that the day ahead would be better than the one they were leaving behind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~
HAVE A LITTLE FAITH IN ME
PART 13


The ride home invited complete silence from the three tired occupants of Lois’s jeep. Before leaving, Lois convinced Henderson—which wasn’t easy— that she was more than fine to drive home. She was tired, but her excitement at knowing Clark was alive was giving her a little extra energy and keeping her out of the depths of despair, where she had traveled to earlier in the day, which was another cause of concern as far as Henderson was concerned. She was fine to make the fifteen minute drive from the hospital to Clark’s apartment, where Jonathan and Martha would stay the night.

Lois marveled at how comfortable she felt, sitting with the Kents, not talking. Usually, she couldn’t stand silence. She had developed her famed habit of babbling during her “awkward phase” as her mother called it, or as most people knew it as: her teen years. She wasn’t entirely comfortable with herself during that time, let alone with other people. She would fill any void in a conversation with some mundane details about her day or her life. Silence was awkward, as far as she knew. She couldn’t sit in silence with her own family, which was strange, as she never had anything particularly to say to them. Yet she always found something to say to them anyway. Anything was better than silence. Silence seemed to be an admission that the family wasn’t perfect and couldn’t converse and talk like normal families. So they talked. Usually her parents fought. To prevent that from happening, Lois and Lucy usually drove most conversations, steering them away from certain topics that their parents couldn’t seem to handle. Lucy, at times, had the same babbling habit as Lois. She probably learned it from her. But she wasn’t as bad. Lucy was more rambunctious and rebellious than Lois, and most likely didn’t care what people thought, so awkward silences probably didn’t bother her the way they bothered Lois. Lois felt as if signs that the family wasn’t doing well were more of a reflection on her than Lucy, as Lucy was the youngest. No one ever blamed the youngest. They sympathized with the youngest. If the youngest had a bad habit, like smoking or doing drugs or if the youngest was rebellious in any way, sympathy still flowed in in heaps. “Poor Lucy; she can’t handle what is happening to the family and she needs to do this.. and that”, people would say, excusing every little thing Lucy did. Now, if Lois wore a little too much makeup to school, where she would get straight A’s by the way, and didn’t even date all that much or do anything bad, she would be judged by her parents, their friends, her other relatives and her neighbors. It was never “poor Lois”, just “poor Lucy.” Lois didn’t mind. She loved her sister and felt protective of her all the same. Even she made excuses for “poor Lucy.” But, looking back, she realized that a result of this was that she did feel responsible for her family and how they were portrayed. She had to hide her own feelings and act as if everything was okay, so the family would seem okay. So she babbled when things got too quiet or the danger of silence lurked around the corner. Her babbling now was less frequent and not due anymore to a fear of silence.

Now, she would babble when she had too many trains of thought in her head all at once and needed to get them out quickly before forgetting what they were. She knew there were stories often jumbled in her head, so if she could just get her thoughts out aloud, she would find the truths that were usually inside her. She also babbled, she realized with a small smile, even more now because she knew Clark liked it. He would make fun and look at her in a certain way, like she was from some other dimension… but there was a sparkle in his eyes when she babbled that seemed to say that he loved her more than he would ever dare to admit. That quality, that was uniquely hers and she referred to as a quirk, was something that he seemed to truly treasure about her. Whether they were at work and she was babbling about a story, or hanging out and she was going off about her family or some friends, he would look at her that way. And she loved it… He would never try to shut her up by cutting in, or looking uninterested. Usually, even if they were trying to make a deadline, he would know something she said was leading into a full-blown babble-tangent and he would smirk and sit back, patiently waiting for her to draw her own conclusions from her heavy flow of thoughts. That patience, that no one else ever seemed to have when it came to her need to sometimes talk a lot, was something she immediately liked about Clark, when they first started working together. He didn’t roll his eyes at her, like others did, thinking she didn’t see them doing it. He didn’t gesture for her to hurry it up. He just crossed his arms, or pushed his chair back… and watched, fascinated.

But she didn’t NEED to babble now. Now, she was an adult and her days of feeling awkward when there was silence between people or feeling that she needed to talk to compensate for the problems her family was having were over. She didn’t need to do that now. Now it was a quirk and she was all-too-aware of it. It was a strategy and a tool at times too, to buy time with Perry when he demanded an answer she couldn’t give on a story or to get Clark to give up one of his protective lectures after she would get out of a sticky situation intact. She could shut HIM up by babbling, because she knew he would watch, almost spellbound, and wouldn’t interrupt her, and afterward, he wouldn’t even remember what the lecture was about. Or he would drop it anyway. There were times when silence was still uncomfortable for her, as it is with most people. It depended on the company.

Driving now, in the wonderful companionable silence with the Kents, she remembered the first time she shared a silence with Clark. They had just finished working on a story. She said her car was in the shop and he offered to walk her home. They had only worked on about two stories together. She thought he was pushing it, offering to walk her home. They were colleagues, not friends, after all. But for some reason she couldn’t even explain to herself, she agreed to let him walk with her. That particular story had left them both drained. She was relieved that night, walking with him, that the story was finally over and she could sleep soundly for once. They talked idly at first. Looking back, she suspected that Clark didn’t want to push her to open up, which is why he always let her do that on her own terms. He shared with her, stories about growing up and about college and his folks, but never prodded her to “share” and open up about her upbringing. He clearly trusted her right off, she mused. He obviously couldn’t completely trust her with everything about himself, because he—this ‘hack from Nowheresville’—lived with the biggest secret of anyone she had ever and would ever meet. But he trusted her with other things that counted. He trusted her enough to show her, right from the beginning, himself. And she eventually would share about herself too. But that night, she didn’t. Not really. They had walked. He told stories that actually made her laugh. She was amazed that he could make her laugh. When she did talk, she told some completely safe, not-too-personal anecdotes that pertained to the topic, and he would laugh. They stopped at a hotdog stand, when she admitted she was hungry, and he bought them hotdogs. She remembered how comfortable she felt about him doing that, and how that comfort amazed her. She had programmed herself so well to be aware that when a man bought her something—anything—she should run the other way. He wanted something. But not Clark. It was so friendly, when he did that. So comfortable. His smile was so reassuring. They sat on a bench while they ate the hotdogs and drank their sodas, and the conversation was still going strong. They still hadn’t talked about anything personal. But in a way, it was personal anyway. To be able to just chat with someone about stupid, unimportant things in life that make you laugh but you never usually get to talk to others about was a wonderful feeling. She remembered being amazed that she hadn’t declined the offer to get food or at least suggested they eat while they walk—just done something to hurry up her time with him, as she didn’t really know him all that well. But what amazed her more was how on that night, so early on in their relationship, she realized that her instincts to trust him and let him just be her friend, had been right. She was so comfortable around him and he was a really good friend to have around. When they finally finished eating and headed back to her apartment, they didn’t talk really. They just walked, enjoying the beautiful night and the company. There wasn’t anything to say, so they didn’t say anything. Even though Lois Lane’s days of babbling nervously to fill a void in the conversation were long gone, that concept still amazed her, that she could just walk silently with someone else, merely because nothing needed to be said. The whole experience made that night a wonderful night, but for no particular reason. They didn’t bear their souls to each other or anything like that. It was just a comfortable evening from beginning to end, even through the minutes of silence. Especially during the minutes of silence. And when he said goodbye, it was so friendly and reassuring, like when he bought the hotdog, that she knew her instincts truly had been right. He just wanted to be her friend and have her respect. And he no longer, after that night, had to work for those things. In the following months, they experienced countless more evenings just like that, and they always remained among her most special times with Clark, in her heart. Each one gave her a great feeling inside. Intermixed with nights like that were nights where they did bear their souls to each other or argue or work. Their friendship was solidifying and their love was growing more and more. But one constant was the amazing feeling of comfort Lois always received in Clark’s presence. She was never as comfortable with anyone as she was with Clark. Whether they were fighting or sharing a joke or a story or a piece of their histories, she was comfortable. She now knew that he was her home. Being with him was like finally being home. She had never had that feeling before and now that his very existence was in danger and his life hung in the balance, it was all too clear that that was what was going on, why he had always affected her so, from the beginning. The reason her warnings fell on a suddenly deaf heart and she threw out all her rules, just for him, made clear sense. The only time she was ever uncomfortable with Clark was when they would kiss. It was always part of a ruse for a story, but it would unsettle her all the same… not because she didn’t trust Clark, but because of her distrust for her own heart. It was trying to tell her something, loud and clear, and it was a message that scared her more than hanging in the jaws of death, which she did almost weekly. But instead of pulling away because of that fear, she was drawn ever more to him, as the days went on.

She was now experiencing a similar kind of comfort that she felt with Clark with his parents. There was nothing to say, after the day’s events. So no one talked. They just watched the city of Metropolis, peaceful at nighttime, as if unaware of the reckless day it had experienced, whiz by, its lights illuminating their calm faces. She could feel their peace permeate the small confine of the car. She was at peace too. He was alive. Hope against hope, he was alive, and they were all feeling at peace, knowing that, on this night.

*************
*************

“Lois, I, uh… I have something to tell you, honey,” Perry said, after he greeted Lois and the Kents, as they walked through Clark’s front door.

Lois furrowed her brows together, about to ask what Perry was talking about, when Jimmy walked around the corner, out of Clark’s bedroom.

“Hey, Lois,” the young man said.

“Hi. Perry, what’s wrong?” Lois asked, looking at the Kents for reassurance. She wasn’t sure what else she could handle right now, but after today, anything seemed possible.

“Well, you see… Clark… he’s, uh, well… he’s missing, Lois. I mean, as far as we know, he is,” Perry explained quickly, feeling bad, obviously, at having to tell not only Lois this, but also Clark’s own parents.

Lois let out a breath, shaky with relief. She thought he was going to tell her that someone in her family was missing or Lex had killed them as well, or just… something. But she knew Clark wasn’t missing. This she could handle.

Perry and Jimmy seemed to take Lois’s quivering sigh and hers and the Kents silence for shock.

“He called us yesterday. He was out, looking for clues on Luthor, like the rest of us. We compared notes and he said he would meet up with us later at his apartment. But he never showed,” Jimmy explained, rushing.

“After what happened with Superman, we started thinking. Superman was an enemy of Luthor’s yes… but he was also someone who affected you emotionally. Someone you cared about. A romantic threat for Luthor,” Perry explained. “I think Clark falls into the same category. Even if you don’t agree with that assumption, Lois, I think so and Luthor probably did too, and…”

“I agree with that…” Lois said, quietly, wanting everyone to know that she too knew that Clark rightfully belonged in the category of romantic threat. He was the biggest threat of all, as he had her heart and no one else ever did.

“… we think that maybe…” Jimmy started, but trailed off, the color draining from his face. He couldn’t finish his thoughts.

“Luthor may have…” Perry started, gesturing to imply the meaning of the unspoken words that hung in the air.

Lois didn’t know what to say. Of course they would think Clark had been killed by Lex too! She didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t say she had talked to him and he was fine, because if he didn’t get better, like she hoped, prayed and believed he would, then what? But she couldn’t tell them his secret. It was his. As it was, she and Henderson knew it without his knowledge or consent. If she played along, she would just make things more complicated. The only instinct she got was to say that he had probably gone home to Smallville, but with his parents right there for them to see, that story seemed unlikely. Since the Planet was no more, she couldn’t say he was out meeting a source. Especially since both Perry and Jimmy knew that the only sources he was talking with these days had to do with their Lex Luthor ruination plan.

She looked at the Kents, her fearful gaze meeting theirs. They clearly were running the same possibilities through their minds, and coming up just as empty-handed. It almost made her feel better to know that they seemed just as unsure of what to say, when they had been at this cover-up deal for much longer than she had. She felt, for the first time, like she was truly on the level with them and Clark, as far as keeping his secret went. She didn’t feel like she was trailing behind, failing to comprehend… just failing in general. It was a welcome feeling, being on the same page as them, but it didn’t erase the problem at hand.

Superman was dead, from what these people knew… so where was Clark? He had two very concerned friends staring her in the face.

“I’m sure he’ll show up,” Lois finally managed, her voice almost failing her.

Martha and Jonathan walked over to Clark’s couch, lowering themselves onto it, clearly exhausted.

Perry seemed to take her answer and the Kents retreat away from the group as a form of denial. He nodded and looked at Jimmy, as if he wasn’t surprised by this. “I’m sure you’re right, Lois. But we’ve told Henderson our suspicions, just so he can do what he can. He’s a friend of Clark’s and all, so he’ll do extra. Uh, he said so.”

Lois nodded, happy that Perry contacted Henderson, who was in the loop about the whole thing anyway.

“He’s gone,” a bitter-sounding voice said, coming out of Clark’s bedroom.

Lois looked up, seeing Jack walk out of the room.

“I’m sure he’ll show up,” Lois repeated again, her heart thumping hard in her chest. She didn’t want to talk to them about Clark. She was still too shaken up from the day, and lying now about his condition was not helping her find peace with it.

“He won’t. Luthor made sure of it. If that man wasn’t already dead—“

“Now, Jack, that doesn’t help any,” Perry said, looking like he had been dealing with this negative mood of Jack’s for some time now.

“Whatever,” Jack said, walking out of the living room, onto the balcony, closing the door behind him.

Lois looked at Perry and Jimmy, confused.

Perry took a deep breath, clearly not wanting to put more on Lois’s plate than was already there. “When we got what we needed to bring Luthor down, Clark still hadn’t shown up. We were all worried, but it was time for your wedding. Jack decided not to come to the church with us. He wanted to wait here in case Clark showed up. When we got back and told him about Superman, he seemed to declare Clark dead right then and there. I guess he figures that if Luthor managed to kill Superman, he definitely…” Perry again couldn’t say it. “I guess he just assumed, and he hasn’t stopped since. Ever since he learned that Superman… that he… well, he hasn’t been himself, and he isn’t holding out any hope for Clark. We were all afraid, but Jack… he acted like Superman’s death was a confirmation of the same for Clark.”

Lois looked out through the large windows that showed the balcony, and watched Jack. He just looked over the ledge, looking desolate. “Does he have somewhere to stay tonight?”

“We haven’t worked out sleeping plans yet. I want Jimmy to come back to my place. Alice is back in town and has set up the guest room. And obviously Mr. and Mrs. Kent will stay here,” Perry said.

“Jack can come with me. Crash on my sofa,” Lois said.

“Ah, Lois, he’s in a mood. I’d be surprised if you convinced him to come off that balcony tonight,” Perry said, sympathetically.

“Well, I’d like to try,” Lois said, already heading toward Jack.

**************
**************

“There’s a bit of chill in the air tonight,” Lois said, closing the balcony door behind her.

Jack didn’t look at her. He didn’t acknowledge that she’d talked.

“Uh, Jonathan and Martha, Clark’s parents, they told me that Clark called them before…”

That got Jack’s attention. He turned and looked at Lois, then through the window at the Kents, sitting and looking exhausted on the couch. “They told you that, did they? Well, Lois, don’t believe everything you hear. They’re lying. He didn’t call. He couldn’t have.”

“How do you know that, Jack?”

“Let’s just say I have a feeling.”

Lois took a deep breath, suddenly realizing why Clark found it so fulfilling to help this young man. He was such a challenge. That Clark managed to get through to him and affect him so spoke volumes about the kind of person he was. IS, she corrected her train of thoughts.

“Jack, with the mood you’re in, I don’t think anything can exactly cheer you up, but—“

“That’s right, Lois. Nothing can really cheer me up right now. Maybe being left alone will help, but not by much—“

“Don’t get smart with me. I’m trying to help you, and that’s pretty big because I’ve had the day from hell myself!”

Jack turned and looked at her, clearly angry that she had spent the beginning of the day preparing to marry an evil man who killed people and ruined lives and performed just about every illegal act known to man. Maybe more.

“I just think I know something that could cheer you up, even a little,” Lois said softly, reading Jack’s gaze for what it was. “But you can’t tell anyone, not even Perry and J—“

“Lois, I can keep a secret. Nothing you could tell me could be as big as some secrets I’ve kept. And nothing you could tell me could cheer me up. So go on. Let’s hear it,” he said, crossing his arms across his chest, looking at her challengingly.

She met his gaze with one that said she would take that challenge, because she was a woman who knew what she was doing.

“Superman’s not dead. Not anymore,” she added, as sort of an afterthought and correction.

Jack’s smug expression turned to one of slight shock, and his arms fell to his sides.

“He,” Lois continued, “is in a very deep coma right now. But he came back from being dead, completely dead… so I believe he will come back to us and be… the way he was before.”

Try as he might, Jack couldn’t prevent the sigh of relief from escaping from him. He looked like he’d been holding that breath in for hours. Lois looked at him sympathetically. He was looking down, but Lois could see that he was hiding a small smile. He finally looked back up at her, the smile gone from his mouth, but evident in his eyes.

Lois cocked her head to the side and squinted at him knowingly.

He took her in as well.

He knew.

She knew.

And they both knew it.

“Come on, you’re sleeping at my place tonight,” she said already opening the door, to re-enter the apartment.

He followed behind silently, clearly thinking. But she knew he was agreeing with her.

“Well how in Sam’s Hill did you not only get him to come inside, agree to crash at your place, but smile too?” Perry asked, when they’d re-entered.

Suddenly Lois felt bad at being able to alleviate Jack’s worries somewhat, while still keeping Perry and Jimmy in the worrisome dark. She looked at Jack, who seemed to feel the same way.

“This is gonna sound stupid,” Jack said. “But Lois has a connection with Clark. She can, uh, feel his life force, and while it’s not too strong right now, it’s there. I know it sounds thin, but she made me believe he’ll be okay… eventually,” he finished, looking at Lois when he was done.

She was impressed. Not only was he lying to protect Clark, but he seemed worse than Clark at it, and was throwing his cool-boy image away, because that was just corny.

“Uh, yeah,” Lois agreed, looking back at Perry and Jimmy. “I have a connection with Clark.” Well, it wasn’t a total lie, but she still felt sort of stupid saying it. “I got a feeling when something was wrong. And I don’t feel as turned inside out as I did earlier. I’m more at peace. Now, the connection is keeping me believing that everything will be okay in the end. I can say without a shadow if a doubt,” she started, looking Perry in the eyes to show she wasn’t lying, “that Clark is not dead. He’s…” she just shrugged, looking a little wistful, “just somewhere…” she trailed off, wondering again, for the millionth time that day, where Clark actually was…