In a Better Place, from part 3
***
“The levels have dropped,” Petal said, her voice cracking. “Just in the last two minutes.”
Madge sat back and sipped on her coffee. She wasn’t surprised. This is what she had been waiting for. “Call upstairs,” she said to Hank, who was standing, frozen, staring at the monitors. “And see if they can find that damned Wells.”
She had cursed.
Anna, Hank, and Petal all turned startled faces in her direction, pale and shaky, pupils dilated. Poor kids. First the dip in the lifelines and now this. “Sorry,” she said, smiling brightly. “I read that word somewhere. Seemed appropriate for just this situation.”
“Hell yeah,” said Hank, moving to make the call.
And now...
***
A fast trip to the cast locker room had been exactly what Lois needed. More coffee. Some kind of pastry that was so good she’d stopped in the middle of her first bite long enough to stuff a second pastry into her coat pocket. She rolled her eyes at the small ‘Take Only One. A Sharing Community is a Well Fed Community.’ sign some weirdo had placed on the buffet.
She darted into the showers, wishing for shampoo or a toothbrush, but grateful for what she could get- hot water and some slivers of soap left drying in the dish. She toweled off and headed through the door that said ‘Costumes, Lois Lane.’ If she hadn’t been nearly naked, she would have taken a minute to rummage through the Cat Grant closet. She could only imagine...
Finding a fairly nice suit and pair of shoes in the right size, she hustled into them. False Jimmy’s message that the staff meeting was already under way spurred her to move quickly. She didn’t want to miss the opportunity to see all the people who worked here assembled in one place. So far there were Perrys, Cats, Lois Lanes, and, of course, Superman.
She gave that name some thought as she hurriedly dried her hair and helped herself to the some of the cosmetics strewn about. “A sharing community...” she muttered.
The man she was on this little acid trip with hadn’t called himself Superman, ever. But the woman back at EPRAD had. The guy pretending to be Perry had. And the name, along with his likeness, was certainly plastered all over the building. It was the height of ostentatious. The real man was anything but. Still, it fit. Superman. She liked it. She was just having some trouble matching it to the person she was here with. The way he had cringed at the statue, nearly dropped dead at first sight of the lobby. He had told her he didn’t want to be famous. He only wanted to help and nothing more...
That wasn’t really working for him, was it?
Pulling the second pastry from her coat pocket, she gobbled it down as she headed towards the main room in the back. She would have this all figured out by lunch time. Lois Lane was on the case.
***
So were a lot of other Lois Lanes. They sat and stood all around the conference room. All with the same shade of brown hair as hers, but the lengths and styles varied, as did their ages. Each of them bore some resemblance to her. Enough to give the illusion of being Lois Lane. But no one looked exactly like her except, well, her. She noticed the glances of approval and welcome as she looked around.
Lois gave herself a full minute to take it in. To just... soak up the weirdness so she could get over it and think clearly. She took a head count. A dozen Loises, including her. Five Cats, all underdressed, as would be expected. Way too many Jimmys, but then she had always found just the one to be too much. And as for Superman...
Six. All with the tall, dark, and handsome thing going on. All looked like they spent several hours in the gym each day. But the real one, the one she had come here with, was easy to distinguish. For one thing, he was smiling at her from where he leaned against the wall on the far side of the room. And secondly, his Suit just seemed to... fit him. Not that the others weren’t dressed in exactly the same thing. Still, her Superman- Lois coughed a little at the sound of that, though he hadn’t really given her anything else to call him- looked more... super.
She pulled her eyes away from his. She didn’t really want to give him the chance to read her mind... not that she still believed he could do that.
Three Perrys. The one from yesterday who was leading the meeting. And two more seated around the table, practicing their scowls and their Elvis impersonations, from what it looked like.
The door flew open, nearly knocking into her. “Sorry,” stammered the late comer, moving around her and into the room.
She stared at him. Couldn’t place who he was supposed to be. When she raised an inquiring eyebrow at her Superman, though, she was surprised to see that his jaw had tightened and he was looking decidedly uneasy.
“What?” she mouthed to him, but he wasn’t watching her. His gaze was following the newcomer all the way to his seat.
“Wardrobe wasn’t ready for us this morning,” offered the guy she couldn’t place, fumbling with his glasses.
Fumbling with... hey!
“We’ll all be coming along in just a minute.”
And they did. Ten of them marched into the room in sheepish single file. Tousled brown hair, brown, slightly dopey eyes, ties that should have been grounds to have them all arrested. The Clark Kent parade.
Lois groaned. Even here, in this place, she couldn’t get away from him. And so many of him. Nearly as many Clarks as Loises. Why would that be necessary? She would need to bring this to someone’s attention. Once she figured out what this was, of course.
Her Superman still looked shaken. Maybe the lack of sleep was catching up to him. She knew he hadn’t closed his eyes last night. He had just sat and watched over her as she slept.
The thought warmed her. And she smiled at him, she couldn’t help it. As bizarre as this was, at least she had an ally. Someone she could brainstorm with. Someone she could trust.
And since there was an entire wing in a museum dedicated to her trust issues, that was no small thing.
***
One of the Clarks tripped past her on their way out of the meeting. She hurried over to her Superman. She really needed to think of something else to call him. “You find everything you needed this morning?”
“Yeah. Shower and change. Although...” He looked down at himself ruefully. “The other Suits just didn’t feel right, so I’m still in the same one. Had to wash and dry it in record time.”
“Did you see anything? Hear anything?” They all moved out into the lobby towards their assigned places. “By the way, I get the fake Bullpen today, so the Lane Family wing goes to another Lois.” She pointed to a short haired, slightly older version of herself. “How weird was that sentence?”
He chuckled. “I’m still on Krypton today, which is fine by me. At least I have some idea what I’m supposed to be doing.”
Lois turned and took a good look at the set up. “So, Krypton is first, just as people enter. That makes sense. It’s your origin story. And then visitors move on to...where? The Lane Wing is on the opposite side, so some start with my story and some start with yours, maybe, but from there-”
“I was thinking about that,” he cut in softly. “The banners everywhere call this the... Superman Museum.”
She grinned. She could hear how hard it was for him to say that casually. “Go on.”
“So, I get why my life story is here. Why *I’m* here.” He gestured to the other caped heroes milling around. “But why you, Lois? Why all of this at the Daily Planet? Have you thought about it?”
She shrugged. “Face it, you’re the story of the century, and I’m the reporter who has an exclusive deal with you.” She beamed at the thought.
“But this isn’t real, right?” he teased her gently. “You told me this morning we were being manipulated. Not to trust any of this.”
“Right,” she agreed, sobering quickly. “No one but Tempus would know about our agreement, anyway. We are being played and we shouldn’t fall for it, no matter how... attractive. But... you know... in Fantasy Land, or wherever we are, I’m still the reporter who scooped every reporter in the world!”
“At least you’re keeping it in perspective,” he said solemnly, though she would have sworn his eyes twinkled.
“And speaking of every reporter,” she added darkly, watching another Clark Kent stumble past. “I can understand Perry being here. He’s my editor. And Cat has certain... appeal. Jimmy takes decent pictures. But him?”
“What’s wrong with him?” her Superman said quickly.
“You don’t know him. Or... not him... but who he represents. This barnacle I’ve been stuck with. A green horn from... get ready for this, you’ll think I’m making it up...”
‘Smallville, Kansas is unmanned,’ a voice announced over the loudspeakers. ‘One Clark Kent to the Smallville Wing, please. One Clark Kent. Thank you.’
“Oh, this is... not good,” Superman muttered beside her, his face pained, one hand messing his hair. “Lois-”
“He gets a wing?” Lois said. “What the hell! He’s worked with me all of three days and he gets his own... Smallville? Well, we’ll just see about that.”
She took off in the direction one of the Clark Kents had taken. She would need to see that wing for herself. And if it was more than a popsicle stand with the price of hay and cow feed written in crude lettering on it, there was going to be trouble.
“Lois.” Superman had followed her and was reaching for her hand. “We really need to-”
“Back to Krypton, Supes.” A Perry came between them. “Three minutes to opening. And this time, see if you can’t lead them from there straight to Smallville, would you? Don’t let them wander. Bad for traffic flow. When the planet explodes you just follow the spaceship to Schuster’s Field. The path glows in the dark. It’s easy.”
“Right,” said Superman weakly. “I’ll... do that.”
Lois stopped trying to catch up with the Clark. She stopped trying to pull her hand from Superman’s.
She looked at him.
She looked back at Perry’s double who was hustling away. At another Clark Kent who was chatting up a Cat Grant...
“From Krypton to Smallville,” she heard herself say aloud. “Interesting.”
His hand dropped from hers. His eyes closed.
“Yeah,” she said. “Now I get it.”
***
They had to be in the future.
That’s what he kept coming back to over the course of a very surreal morning. Or if not in the actual future, a really incredible facsimile. The technology in the Krypton wing was years beyond any he had ever seen. Decades and decades beyond it. Yesterday he had simply been too stupefied by what that technology conveyed to dwell on it.
He thought back to the night before, flying over Metropolis, bringing the sleeping Lois to the attic. He had noticed things which now he couldn’t explain any other way... but for time travel.
Clark grimaced. Time travel. That was so clearly impossible.
Yes, the city had looked pretty much the same. But the cloud of pollution it wore like a hairnet had been gone. He hadn’t felt air that pure outside of rural areas and home. The change was profound enough that despite everything else that had been happening at the time, he had noticed.
Maybe the Clean Air Act, despite being gutted by the previous administration, was finally making some headway? That idea seemed as farfetched as time travel. More so.
He should have investigated. Once he’d noticed the air, the deserted streets, the no litter thing, he could have taken a quick flight over the rest of the country, or overseas. Anywhere. Just to see if other places were as changed as this one. But he hadn’t wanted to leave Lois alone. Not even for a second. And he hadn’t wanted her waking in his arms, not in the state of mind she’d fallen asleep in.
She would have jumped. Which is what she looked like she wanted to do right now.
He had made a point of checking the newspaper when he’d come down at dawn to get her coffee. It bore the familiar Daily Planet logo, but there wasn’t anything in it that could be considered news, just a ‘Welcome to the Superman Museum’ headline, and not much else. It was nothing more than a souvenir.
Though it did carry a date.
If he was inclined to believe it, he and Lois had landed two hundred years in the future. Metropolis’s future.
Which was, of course, impossible. Completely and absolutely... impossible.
But... the woman who had tried to stop Tempus had said she was in charge of ‘time and space,’ or something like that. Clark wished he could remember more of that conversation now. She’d said he wasn’t to worry, that part was clear. The details would be looked after, and he was just to live his life.
Did the ‘details’ include Tempus and his beam?
And she had called him Superman. Just as everyone else here did.
Clark went over it once more. The statue in the park. Difficult to explain, considering that- by his time- he had made his debut just yesterday afternoon. And the Daily Planet had been turned into a sort of living museum in, what, less than twelve hours?
It wasn’t just an elaborate front or a Hollywood set. He had spent his short time before the staff meeting x-raying and eavesdropping everywhere. Searching for hidden doors, false walls. Bad guys in meetings. He had gotten a searing eyeful of the Cats in their dressing room.
Clark flushed hotly at the memory. He hadn’t had an accident like that since high school, but it *had* been an accident. And he had been much more careful after that.
Everyone seemed legitimate. To be going about the business of impersonating him- in both his guises now- and those he worked with. And a few “I’m new. How long have you worked here?” inquiries in the locker room had earned him responses varying from three months to ten years.
Ten years.
Of course, if all these people were in on whatever this was, that’s exactly what they would say, wasn’t it? They would all have different stories, carefully rehearsed.
He hadn’t seen any Martha or Jonathan look-alikes. Nor anyone else from his life before Metropolis. So, he had assumed that part was unknown. But now there was a wing for Smallville. A host of Clark Kents.
A Schuster’s Field.
Nope. The secret identity thing had definitely been blown along the way.
Somewhere in his... past?
The circling thoughts were making him dizzy. There had to be another, simpler, less insane explanation. For the life of him, he just couldn’t think of what it was.
Right now, though, as much as he would like to run these ideas past Lois, he doubted she would be receptive. She had murder in her eyes, or something very close to it. And she had been staring at him, very quietly, for far too long.
“I told you yesterday I didn’t want to be laid bare for the world to see,” he whispered to her. “Remember?”
“You also said you didn’t want fame,” she hissed back.
“I didn’t.”
She took a long, theatrical look around. “Nice job.”
“Can we table this? Please? Meet for lunch in the attic and discuss theories? I have one.”
“Oh, and I have one, too, Superman. And I’d like to discuss it now!” Her voice didn’t actually shatter glass on that last word, just flirted with the possibility.
“Please, Lois,” he begged, because that seemed like the right thing to do. “Please understand. I wasn’t trying to-”
“Make an absolute fool of me?” she said in something shy of a yell. “I’m carrying on about Clark Kent like he’s a piece of gum on the bottom of my shoe and you just stand there and let me?”
“Oh,” said one of the Perrys walking by. “Perfect. Very nice. Give the people what they came here for.”
“You are Clark Kent,” Lois seethed, managing to make his name and identity sound like a curse of the worst kind.
“That’s right,” he returned. “I am. I’m also the guy who saved your life yesterday.”
That drew a smattering of laughter from the crowd now entering the building, but he didn’t take his eyes off hers. “Cool trick for a barnacle, huh?” he added completely unwisely.
The laughter became snickers from the groups of tourists.
“Don’t let him get away with it, Lois!” called one. “Get him.”
Clark lowered his voice, knowing she was going to do exactly that. “You and I need to be on the same side here.”
“He was always confused,” volunteered an older woman. “But only because he loved you at first sight.”
“Oh... god,” Clark said.
“What?” said Lois, addressing the tourist.
“He loved you and wanted you to love him for his humble, farm boy self,” someone called.
“Which was a lie, actually.” This was taken up with gusto by another spectator. “Because he was never just Clark Kent of Smallville, Kansas. He was always Kal-el of Krypton. It wasn’t fair he didn’t let her in on it.”
“And when was he supposed to do that? When she was cozying up to Luthor?”
There were boos all around.
“Upstairs on our lunch break?” Clark interjected quickly, doing his best to make the crowd invisible. They didn’t seem to need them now, anyway.
“...or when she would have published her own grandmother’s diary to get ahead?”
“How about when she thought he was dead? That was a golden opportunity he let slip by.”
“Oh, geez,” said a new voice. “Did we get a pre-revelation Lois and Clark? I had this scenario last time.”
“I love them pre-revelation. I think they’re wonderful.”
Not Perry moved into the center of the room. “Shall we get started? Those of you going with Superman, follow him. And those who want to see Lois, she’ll be working the Bullpen.”
“Up in the attic,” Lois snapped at him before turning and walking away. “And don’t you dare be late... Clark.”
He was grateful. So very grateful. And more than a little frightened, if he was being honest.
***
She swept into the Bullpen, seething. And by matter of habit went directly to her desk and checked the third drawer to see if there was enough chocolate to handle this latest plot twist in her life.
She grabbed two bars and put them in her suit pockets, pretty sure she would need them later, and tore the paper off another one.
“Hey, don’t mess with the props!” chided a not quite Jimmy Olsen as he rushed by in a show of busyness. “Places. Group one on its way.”
Lois stopped, the bar midway to her mouth. Good Lord, but this place was weird. It was so easy to forget. She shoved the uneaten bar back in the drawer and slammed it closed.
“A little too far into the role playing, huh?” The fake Jimmy grinned at her cheerfully. “We all do it. I’ve been Jimmy Olsen for three summers now, and the words ‘Get it yourself’ seem to have left my vocabulary.”
Lois nodded, swallowing roughly. Every time she felt like she was on some sort of solid ground, it would just give way suddenly, taking her down with it. She had slept for a few hours last night on the floor of the attic, but she was weary to the bone. And instead of figuring things out, she was more mired in question than ever.
Oddly enough there had been a sort of comfort in thinking that...Clark...was behind all this. That all the unexplainable things could be explained by the very fact that he was an alien.
Her partner was an alien.
The mouse of a guy who had stumbled along in her wake all last week was from outer space.
“That at least makes sense,” she muttered under her breath.
But this wasn’t his doing. She believed him on that. Once she remembered how they had come to be here, she’d realized he had been as rudderless as she was yesterday.
There was an outside enemy at work and his name was Tempus. She couldn’t lose sight of that. He had brought them here, to this hi-tech house of mirrors which reflected her life back to her. And not only hers, but Clark Kent’s as well.
So, for now she would just step around the big, fat ‘Clark is Superman’ detail. It just muddied things and the whole situation was cloudy enough as it was.
There were bigger questions which demanded attention. Scarier ones which were almost overwhelming. Maybe she could just consign those to the same space she’d put her alien partner superhero? Securely bound and gagged in one corner of her mind. Though it was getting crowded in there.
But if she was going to start putting the pieces together, she couldn’t dwell on how Tempus could know her so well. Know what her home life had been like. Where her bed sat in her bedroom and what color sheets it had. How sad and shy Lucy was as a child. How caustic and desperate her mother had been. How her father could be in the same room with them and not there at all. Now the Double Crunch Fudge Bar habit, too. How and why would have to wait.
Who stood to gain?
That was the angle she needed to take. Who stood to gain from this elaborate show? A lot of time, money, and effort had been poured into it. It had to serve a purpose. She would block everything else out and start there.
“Welcome to the Bullpen,” boomed the false Chief, arms spread wide in greeting. “Feel free to look around, folks. This is where the news comes to you.”
Streams of visitors of all ages and sizes came through the elevator doors and down the ramp. Lois took her cue from those around her and sat down at her desk, clicked on her computer, and pretended to type. She was surprised and pleased when a story of hers popped up on her screen. It was a good one, corruption on the city council. She read it as if for the first time and tried to ignore the oohs and ahhs as people walked past.
“Unbelievable,” whispered one guy as he approached her desk. His shy smile of deep appreciation was so completely in contrast with his loud, garish shirt and way overfluffed hair she nearly laughed. “You’re as beautiful as the real thing.”
“There’s a reason for that,” she wanted to say, but didn’t. She just smiled wanly and gave him what was meant to be a little nod of dismissal.
He didn’t move on. Instead he placed the palms of his hands flat on her fake paperwork and smiled a smile with so many teeth she was tempted to count them. “So, what time do get off work, baby?” he growled in a voice that was both intimate and loud enough to grab everyone’s attention.
And it did. There was a pause and then a sort of polite, frantic scramble to reach her desk. Before she could put the oily fink in his place privately, they were surrounded.
“Look.” Lois ignored the stares. She had grown used to those in the Lane Family wing. “I’m not interested, so...no. Whatever you’re asking, whatever you’re thinking, whatever you’re even thinking of thinking but haven’t thought yet, it’s no. No way. And in case I haven’t made myself clear, no.”
That usually did it. In general, by the time she’d said the third ‘no’ most men with any higher brain function had gotten the hint. But not this one. He smiled... harder. Wider. Hungrier.
She felt her cheeks start to flame. With all she was dealing with right now, this was the very last thing she needed. Or... scratch that. Maybe it was exactly what she needed. It might feel really nice, cheer her up, even, if she lunged across the desk and just... kicked that look off his face.
She stood, eager. The crowd pressed closer.
“You heard the lady.” The circle of people swung open like a gate to let the speaker through. “Lois isn’t interested, Scardino. For the last time, get lost.”
One of the Clark Kents addressed the Hawaiian shirted lothario in front of her, his jaw clenched, a hand rested protectively on the small of her back. And he seethed with frustration.
Lois got it.
Role-playing.
The guy was a good likeness, but he could only be acting, since he was nothing like the Clark Kent she had known for such a brief time. That Clark was anything but forceful.
Except for when he was saving her life and the space program. But those facts were currently behind the locked door of her mind, so... whatever.
“Ok, ok.” The man playing Scardino took a step back. “When you get tired of Mr Greenjeans, baby,” he said to groans, clearly relishing the part, “you know where to find me.”
“Back to work, people!” The Chief yelled right on cue. And it was a cue, Lois could see that. “This isn’t a Wanda Detroit romance novel; it’s a place of business, on your way.”
With that the young Jimmy double popped up, taking pictures of the visitors as they exited the room. “Photos available in the gift shop.”
“Five minute break,” the Perry said in a much quieter, much less southern voice. “Then we start all over.”
“I haven’t worked with you before, but the improvising was great.” The actor Scardino stuck his hand out to shake hers. “I’m Stephen.”
“Lo-” she said, then stopped short. “Lorraine,” she finished lamely.
“Nice meeting you, Lorraine,” Stephen said without missing a beat. “And way to get all testosterone on me, Dave!” he said to the Clark who was perched on the corner of her desk.
“Too far out of character?” Dave looked concerned. “Maybe if Clark had just done that once, it wouldn’t have taken them so long to get to the HEA room.”
Everyone laughed appreciatively. Except Lorraine, of course.
“Those people ate it up,” the Jimmy who wasn’t Jimmy said. “I think they’d rather see that than what really happened.”
Lois sat back down slowly, turning the words over in her head. “‘...if Clark had just done that once...’”
She felt a wave of relief wash over her. She closed her eyes and savored it.
Up until now Tempus had gotten everything so right it was unnerving. Terrifying, really. But this... this was all wrong.
He had obviously set up some sort of romantic triangle, which, in itself, was laughable. She didn’t even *know* a Scardino, she was sure of it. Especially if the way this guy dressed was indicative of the real one. She wouldn’t be inclined to forget him.
And ‘Clark’ hovering behind her, jealous and angry, driving Scardino away...
She laughed and felt herself relax for the first time since she’d woken on an unfamiliar floor. Maybe this was a little thing, but it was an important thing.
Tempus was wrong.
He was not all knowing and all seeing. Lois felt a surge of optimism. If he had made one mistake, he would make others. And she would be ready when he did.
Putting on an easy smile she turned to the men, remembering her advice to Superman... Clark. No piece of information was insignificant. “What’s the HEA room?”
Dave and Stephen stopped talking.
“You don’t know?” Stephen said in disbelief. “Happily Ever After. Kind of the whole point.”
“The whole-?”
“You’re new here,” Dave cut in sympathetically, “and I bet they’re working you so hard you haven’t had a chance to look around.”
“Well, look at her,” said the actor playing Jimmy, “You better believe they’re keeping her in the front rooms so everyone can see her. The HEA room is so dark, *I* could be Lois Lane in there and no one would notice.”
“Are you related?” Stephen asked. “I thought the family didn’t do the role-playing.”
Lois blinked. Things had swerved off track, and once more she found herself floundering. “Related to who?” That seemed safe enough.
“The Founders,” Dave said. “You are, aren’t you? Did the family send you? So there would be an authentic looking Lois Lane? There was some concern last year over the... flirtier Loises.”
“Flirtier is one way to put it,” said Not Jimmy dreamily.
“Excuse me,” she said, moving blindly to her feet. “I.... I need to take a break.”
“Two minutes, places gang,” called Perry from his office.
“Hurry back,” Stephen whispered.
She moved as quickly as she could, hearing the concern in their voices, but none of the words. It didn’t matter. They wouldn’t make sense anyway. Nothing did. It was like listening underwater.
And just now she felt like she was drowning.
She sprinted up the ramp. Good, familiar ramp. Even nicked and worn in the same ways as the original. Out of long habit she ran her palm over a scar in the wood. The dent she’d left when she’d thrown her shoe at Ralph and, sadly, missed him.
Who did that? Who replicated a world right down to a scuff on a prop? Chocolate bars in a drawer?
Tempus. Tempus did that.
But why? Why?
She would find out, she told herself fiercely. She was calm and in charge. And she’d just had that surge of optimism, she didn’t want to let go of that too soon. Right now she just needed to stretch her legs, go somewhere and not be looked at and told how much she looked exactly like... herself.
Lois headed for the stairwell and started climbing.
***
On his second morning in the Krypton wing, Clark tried to disassociate himself. To pretend he was a guy pretending to be Superman and nothing more. Just another impersonator in a cape staring at the same displays all day long.
He tried. But after he pushed the first simulator button and the walls dissolved and gave way to the illusion of deep space, swallowing them up, he forgot he was trying.
He had been in open space only two days ago. Or two hundred years and two days ago, depending on whose calendar he went by.
The reproduction of the vastness, the darkness broken only by blazing rays of sharp light was first rate. A coldness seeped into the room right on cue, leaving the audience members shivering, but feeling very much as if they were experiencing the real thing for themselves.
Clark made himself look deeper. The cooling system was found easily, as well as the technology behind the holograms and lasers. It wasn’t hidden, just placed discreetly around the room so as not to detract from the illusion. And it didn’t give him any answers, it simply pressed more questions on him. It was quite possible this was what home theater systems had advanced to over the last two centuries.
Clark’s heart skipped a beat when the red planet spun into view. Since he had seen this part over and over the day before, he thought he’d be ready for the feelings it brought. But something in him- something more primal than thoughtful- reacted again, as if it were the first time.
The twin memories, recognition and reunion, awoke in every cell of his body. His every nerve sang with it. Home.
It had been that sense of awakening and belonging- more than any other thing yesterday- that convinced him all this wasn’t a cheap trick, or a lie, a distortion of some kind.
Because while the special effects might be easy enough to manufacture, this feeling when he looked at Krypton could not be.
Watching it explode, watching its destruction, imagining the loss of lives, of the ground his parents had once walked, the air they had once breathed, everything he had once come from and that was rooted in him still, had been his undoing yesterday.
He was a cosmic orphan. The one and only living heir to an entire planet.
Clark nearly choked at the irony. Funny how he had always considered himself a lonely person, well loved by his parents, but still essentially an outsider.
And he hadn’t known the half of it, had he?
Now he did. Now he knew the other half of himself as well. He was no longer just Clark Kent of Smallville, Kansas, a man with a baffling array of special abilities and no real explanation for them. He was Kal-el of the house of El. Beloved son of Jor-el and Lara. Two names he savored the weight of in his mind, simply glad to know those syllables.
They had loved him enough not to cling to him. Not to barricade themselves together, determined to live out their last days as a family.
Instead, they had launched him away, making it possible for him to be standing here- whenever and wherever he was- witnessing their sacrifice.
“Thank you,” he murmured aloud, though he knew full well the actors portraying his parents in the hologram weren’t the real ones. They were as close as he was ever going to get.
He turned away when the crash of light and sound began. He’d seen the simulated explosion yesterday. He didn’t ever need to see it again.
The group moved obediently across the room, following the tiny space craft into the hallway, cheering as it cleared the space debris and shot towards the distant planet of green and blue.
Towards Kansas, Jonathan and Martha Kent, and home.
The next set of double doors was the Smallville wing, just exactly as Perry had said. Over the entrance the words ‘From Our Arms to Yours.’
Clark stopped on the threshold not following the others in. It even smelled like Smallville. Damp earth and clover. He watched as one of the Clark Kents walked out and greeted the tourists.
“Welcome to Schuster’s Field. A favorite place of mine for obvious reasons.”
Everyone gave an appreciate chuckle. Some even remembered to turn and wave goodbye to Superman.
Behind him, he heard the next group filing into K-wing. When he was ready, he went to meet them.
***
Lois reached the third floor and pushed out into the dimly lit hallway. It seemed empty enough and she was tired of climbing stairs, so it was as good as place as any.
Or not. Within seconds a Clark Kent stuck his head from one of the doorways. “Welcome to Happily Ever After,” he said with a broad grin.
The proper reply to that failed her, so she just opened her mouth and closed it again.
His brow creased in confusion. “Where’s your group?”
“Coming along,” she said with what was meant to be breezy confidence. It just came out winded instead. Probably from the climb, though. Nothing more to it than that.
Lois took note of the candles lining the hallway. The rosy, soft glow they gave off. It was sort of.... pretty. Peaceful. She let out a long, slow breath. She could hear light orchestral music floating through the open doors. From where she was standing, everything sounded and looked a little like... church.
No. Not church, exactly. But a place where something important or... sacred, maybe... took place.
She didn’t want to go in.
And she didn’t want to linger in the hallway any longer either, not under the stare of a Clark Kent. Not when he was wearing a tuxedo, one rose in his lapel almost as if he was dressed for...
“I should head back down and see what’s keeping them,” she said, though her feet wouldn’t move.
“Great.” He ducked back in and the doors swung closed, the music was cut off, and it was just her and a bunch of candles. Fire hazards. That was all. Nothing else. Her imagination was starting to run away, but who could blame her?
“Happily Ever After.” She snorted that derisively, tossed some skeptical looks around. There was no one else to see them, but they made her feel better.
Her eyes strayed back to the doors.
Whatever was in there certainly couldn’t be any worse than what was in the Lane Family Wing. There couldn’t be anything here to compare to that house of horrors. And she was fact-gathering today. The best way to get a handle on things, have a look at everything, no stone left unturned. And the timing was good. No group dynamic to distract her.
Silly not to go in, then, really. Foolish. Unprofessional.
“So, why not?” she said aloud.
***
tbc
