From part 31...
Lois's eyes were shimmering with unshed tears as she looked up to meet Clark's gaze. Clark held his breath, hardly daring to hope.
Finally she nodded. "I'll try, Clark," she whispered. "That's all I can do."
He let out the breath he'd been holding and closed his eyes, pulling her into his embrace. "That's all I ask," he said as he held her tightly. "That's all I ask."
When they pulled apart, Clark gazed down at the emotionally exhausted woman before him. "Come to bed, Lois. You need some sleep as much as I do."
Lois nodded, and he slipped his arm around her shoulders. With a great sense of relief that she was still here beside him, he led her into the bedroom. He was sure everything would look brighter in the morning--for her as well as for him.
~*~*~*~*~
PART 32
~*~*~*~*~
It was dark in the room, and the only sound Lois heard in the apartment was Clark's slow, deep breathing coming from beside her.
She rolled from her back to her side, putting her face only inches away from Clark's. She let her gaze linger on his face, studying his peaceful expression as he slept. Her eyes took in the long, thick lashes fanned out against flawless olive-colored skin; the tiny offset mole above his upper lip; the dark, rumpled hair falling forward over his forehead, lending an air of innocence rarely seen above that of a young boy.
Her mind went back to those several hours ago in that warehouse, when she'd burst through the doors and had seen him lying there, his skin deathly pale, his eyes glazed, and a pool of blood staining his Suit.
Her breath caught in her chest and she blinked back fresh tears. She'd almost lost him tonight. If she had, would she have been able to bear it? She'd barely managed to survive her parents' and sister's death, and Clark meant as much to her--if not more--than they had. She loved him so much that the thought of having him taken from her made her actually physically hurt.
At times like these, she thought maybe it would have been better if she'd never gotten involved with him in the first place. She'd been lonely and hurting before, but surely that was better than the immeasurable pain it would cause to be allowed to only love him for the short time she had, and then have him ripped away from her.
A single tear slipped from her eye, carving a path down her cheek and dropping onto her pillow. Slowly she lifted her hand to touch his face, tracing her fingertips along his cheek and firm jaw. Clark's reassurances a few hours ago--that maybe they'd been brought into each other's lives for a reason--had helped. But still she felt torn. Was staying with him a risk she was willing to take? More than anything, she loved him and wanted to be with him. But a part of her wanted to cut her losses and protect her fragile heart from being obliterated for the second time in her life.
She drew her fingertips back from Clark's cheek and slipped her hand under the blanket. Clark stirred and moved closer to her, as if aching for her touch even in his sleep.
Trying to stem the conflict warring inside of her, Lois lifted her head slightly to glance at the glowing red numbers of Clark's alarm clock. She sighed heavily. It was almost dawn, yet she still hadn't slept. Her mind had continued to whirl for hours, replaying the conflicting arguments over and over until nothing made sense. She'd only succeeded in thinking herself in circles.
'I have to get out of here,' Lois finally decided. 'I've got to go home and clear my head.'
In the last several hours, that seemed to be the only thing she couldn't argue with. Some time away was definitely what she needed. Clark was growing steadily stronger, and she knew he would be back to normal in a day or two. He didn't need her around to get him back on his feet. He would do just fine without her. As for herself....
She shook her head and frowned. She desperately needed to take care of herself and try to bring her warring emotions to some kind of resolution. That was the only way she could see out of this.
Giving Clark one last lingering glance, she slipped out of bed and got dressed.
~*~*~*~*~
The sunlight spilled across the bed, causing Clark to stir. Automatically, he rolled over and reached for Lois. His arm met only with mattress.
Surprised, he opened his eyes and glanced at her side of the bed. She wasn't there; and judging from the coolness of the sheets where she'd slept, she hadn't been there in quite some time.
He sat up and looked around the room, his search confirming that he was alone. Experimentally, he concentrated and tried to pick out the sounds of movement in the apartment. After a moment, he breathed a sigh of relief when he was able to pick out her heartbeat. His hearing appeared to be fully restored. A sense of relief washed over him. His powers were returning, albeit slowly. Before long, he suspected he would be back to normal.
Getting out of bed, he shuffled out into the living room, the dull ache lingering from his painful experience the night before all but gone. "Lois?" he called out.
"Yeah," came the soft reply from the dining area.
He turned and spotted her sitting in one of the chairs at the table. She was bent over, tying her shoelace. It was then that he noticed she was fully dressed, and her hair had been brushed back into a simple ponytail. The touch of makeup she'd applied gave her cheeks a bit of color and helped disguise the dark bags under her eyes. He knew her well enough, though, to tell she was exhausted.
"What are you doing?" he asked, walking over to her. "It's still early."
She carefully avoided his gaze as she finished tying her shoe. "I have a flight out of Metropolis International in a little over an hour. I called a cab. It should be here in a few minutes."
Clark's heart stopped. With great effort, he forced some air back into his lungs. "You're leaving?" he croaked. "Lois, why? I thought you were going to be here through the weekend..."
She shook her head without lifting her eyes from tying her second shoe. "I need to get back to San Francisco. Today's Saturday, and Jim expects me back at work on Monday. I thought I could use Sunday to rest up and get some sleep."
"It doesn't look like you got much last night," Clark agreed, momentarily putting his other questions on hold. "Are you feeling okay?"
She paused a beat. "No, actually, I'm not," she finally admitted. "I didn't sleep much last night." She stood up and reached for her packed overnight back sticking out from beneath the table. Slipping the strap onto her shoulder, she seemed to be looking anywhere but at him. "I'm going to peek outside and see if my cab's here."
She started to move past him toward the door, but Clark reached for her arm.
"Lois, look at me."
When her eyes only flickered up as far as his neck and then dropped back to the floor, he put a finger under her chin and tilted her face gently upward. Her eyes darted left and right before she finally gave in and met his gaze.
When their eyes connected, Clark stared intently into hers. "Tell me what's wrong."
Lois's cool facade wavered at the gentle and earnest tone in his voice. Yet in her eyes, he could almost see the internal conflict warring deep inside of her.
She drew in a breath and released it loudly. "I can't think here, Clark," she told him. "You're so close, and there are all these thoughts swirling around in my head. I didn't sleep a wink last night because my mind wouldn't shut off. I've just...I've got to go."
"No, Lois, please don't leave." Clark's voice turned pleading as he let his hand slide from her chin to the soft skin on the nape of her neck. "Is this about yesterday? About your fears about losing me?"
He watched her eyes drop to the floor once more, and he knew he was right. That was exactly what this was about.
"Lois, we talked about this last night," Clark said gently. "I thought we'd worked it all out..."
She sighed again and adjusted the strap on her shoulder. "I thought so, too, Clark, but the more I think about it, the more confused I get. I just need to get back home and clear my head."
"But why fly out this morning, Lois? Why don't you wait and let me fly you?"
"Clark, correct me if I'm wrong, but you're not back to full strength yet." When he frowned and nodded, she went on. "We don't know for sure how long it will take for your powers to come back completely, but I've got to work the day after tomorrow. If you're not back to full strength by tomorrow morning, I'd have to catch a plane out then. That would mean I'd have to spend all day Sunday traveling, then go into work first thing the next morning. I'm not sure I'm rested enough to handle that. Besides," she paused and shifted from one foot to the other nervously, "I'm not sure I can stick around here even if you could fly me back. I need to think things through, and I can't do that here."
"But if you stayed, we could talk this out," he tried again. "You're obviously going through a traumatic time, and you don't need to do that alone. I'm here for you--"
"No," she interrupted, shaking her head. "I *do* need to do this alone."
Clark tried a different approach. More than anything, he was deathly afraid that if he let her go, he might never see her again. Desperate to think of anything he could say to convince her to stay, he argued, "But how will you manage the layovers and plane changes? You're getting over a concussion. I'm not sure I feel comfortable letting you--"
"Clark, I'll be fine," she interrupted again, her tone firm and determined. "My headaches have all but gone, and the stitches come out in a couple of days. I'm on the mend. Don't worry about me."
Her eyes, still troubled, at last met his. Clark reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I'll always worry about you, Lois."
An unreadable emotion flickered across her face. For one brief moment, he thought she was going to change her mind. But as quickly as it had come, the look was gone.
Just then a horn sounded outside the apartment, signaling the cab's arrival. Their moment of connection had passed, and Lois stepped back from his touch. "I've got to go."
Clark's heart dropped into his stomach. As much as he longed to, he knew he couldn't make her stay. He nodded in resignation and dropped his hand. "Call me when you get in, okay? And I'll call you tomorrow to see--"
"Clark, please...just let me have some time, okay?" she pleaded, a pained expression on her face. "I need to work through some things."
He nodded once more, and she moved past him without so much as a glance. It was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do, to let her walk out of his apartment with no firm guarantee she'd ever be back. But he knew that's what he needed to do.
The sound of the door clicking shut reverberated in his ears, bringing tears to his eyes and an aching loneliness to his heart.
**********
Lois stared out the window of the plane, watching the wispy white clouds move past the wing of the plane. She thought back to the many times she'd flown amongst those clouds with Clark, encircled in his arms and feeling safe and secure in a way she'd never felt before.
But that safety and security had seriously come into question yesterday as she'd seen the love of her life lying in a pool of blood in a freight warehouse.
Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them back. She'd cried entirely too much this past week, and she was tired--tired of feeling an aching sense of loss for her parents and sister, tired of worrying about what other danger might be lurking around the corner for her or Clark, and tired of worrying about losing Clark.
It had never occurred to her before last night that she felt so safe and secure with Clark because he was special--because he was invulnerable. She'd had enough heartbreak and loss in her life that it made sense that she'd finally willingly open her heart to someone--someone who couldn't be hurt or taken away from her.
But now that fragile hope had been destroyed.
Clark had thought he'd been invulnerable when she'd met him, but now they both knew that wasn't true. And now she had to deal with the painful fact that he could indeed be taken from her. Could she handle that? Was she still willing to love him, knowing he was no longer completely invulnerable? The everyday stuff wouldn't hurt him; and for that she was grateful. But there was still the possibility that one madman with a chunk of that glowing, green rock could come along and rip the man she loved away from her.
Lois's chest tightened and she found it hard to breathe. It was horrible to imagine, living her life without Clark. But wouldn't that be what she would be doing if she decided to cut her losses and stop seeing him in an effort to protect her fragile heart? It would still hurt beyond words. What was the difference whether he was taken from her or she pushed him away?
It occurred to her that a man as special as Clark certainly wouldn't stay single forever. What if he found someone else to love, and she had to live with the knowledge that he could have been hers?
Her heart constricted. That seemed just as bad--if not more so--than having him taken from her by the hands of a madman.
She sighed and leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes. There appeared to be no easy answers at the moment. Maybe what she needed was some sleep. Surely everything would be clearer after she'd allowed her tired mind and body to escape in a few hours of slumber.
~*~*~*~*~
Lois arrived back at her apartment late Saturday night, and she staggered wearily into her apartment. She was grateful for the late hour because that meant Agnes wouldn't come rushing out of her apartment to investigate the chime of the elevator. Her neighbor would have taken one look at the bags under her eyes and her obvious exhaustion, and ushered her into her apartment for a heart to heart talk. And Lois couldn't deal with that. Not now. Besides, what would she tell Agnes? It wasn't like she could confess that Clark was Superman, and that he was no longer invulnerable, and how could she deal with the idea of losing another loved one?
She shook her head as she locked her apartment door behind her. No, right now she just needed to be alone.
The next day, Sunday, Lois slept most of the day, trying to let her mind and body heal itself. She figured another advantage to losing herself in several hours of sleep was that she could escape from the war raging on inside of her, but just the opposite was true.
Horrible images of Clark dying in some remote corner of the world where she could not get to him entered her dreams against her will, jerking her awake and sending her gasping for air and shaking. The nightmares were even worse than her waking thoughts, but she continued to sleep, utterly exhausted.
Monday morning came, and Lois dragged herself out of bed in spite of her sheer exhaustion. Jim was expecting her, and she didn't dare call in sick when he had been so great about giving her the time off to heal from her ordeal in the parking garage almost a week ago.
She tried to jumpstart herself with a strong cup of coffee and a light breakfast, then took a couple painkillers before heading off to work. When she arrived in the newsroom, Jim's deep voice caused her to turn.
"Well, look who's here," he said, a broad smile on his face. But when he saw the bags under her eyes and the lifeless eyes staring back at him, his smile quickly faded. Concerned, he closed the distance between them and put a fatherly hand on her arm. "Lois, you look terrible. Are you sure you're feeling well enough to be back here at work?"
She sighed, but nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay, Chief. I'm just tired from traveling back from Metropolis. Thanks for understanding about my going there, and then my helping break that story."
A hint of Jim's smile returned. "I have to admit, I was a little surprised when you called me to explain about the story. But it was a great piece of journalism, Lois. I'm proud of you." Then he shook his head and chuckled. "And it's just so like you. You're recovering from a concussion and still have to get in the game, no matter what city you're in. It was very Mad Dog Lane of you."
The mention of the nickname she'd been given by the staff at the Chronicle made her smile. "Yeah, well, once a newshound, always a newshound, right?" She tossed back one of his favorite sayings at him.
He winked at her. "Exactly." Then he gave her arm a pat. "I'm glad to have you back, Lois, but take it easy today, okay? It doesn't look like you should be overdoing things today."
"I'll be careful, Chief. Thanks."
With one last concerned smile, Jim left her to her work. And that's just what Lois spent the rest of her day doing. She'd fallen behind after spending several days away, and she did her best to concentrate on the stories she'd promised Jim he'd have by that evening's deadline.
The day flew by, and thankfully she'd managed to avoid thinking too much about Clark. But the night came too soon, and she was forced to continue her war of emotions alone in her apartment where work could not keep her from doing so.
Her routine was similar the next two days, with work filling her days and thoughts of Clark filling her nights. By Thursday morning, even though she still hadn't managed to come up with any firm answers, she found herself missing Clark more than she could have believed possible--the way he guided her when she walked with him, his hand resting on the small of her back; the soft, deep sound of his laughter that warmed a room; the aggravating way he hovered around, constantly trying to protect her.
He loved her. As much as she loved him. Was it really fair to either of them to end their relationship just because she was scared that one day she might lose him?
A chorus of exclamations yanked her back to the present, and she turned to see what was going on. Her coworkers were gathered before the bank of TVs opposite her, their gazes riveted to whatever it was they were watching.
Curious, she stood up from her seat and went to see what was so newsworthy. When she did, her eyes caught a familiar flash of red and blue on the screen.
Clark.
Her heart began to tap out an erratic rhythm. He looked great; completely back to normal. She felt relieved at the realization that his powers did indeed seem to be back to full force.
Forcing herself to concentrate on what the news reporter was saying, she learned that Superman had just arrived on the scene in Liberia, where a militia group was threatening to blow up the American Embassy. There were reportedly a hundred or so hostages being held in one of the ground floor conference rooms, and unless the terrorists had their demands met, the hostages were going to be executed.
She watched as Clark talked to several of the law enforcement officials. Finally he nodded at whatever the men were suggesting he do. Then he took off in a blur of primary colors into the Embassy. Shots were fired, but Superman returned moments later with two of the terrorists tied up and struggling. Soon after, the lawmen helped Superman escort the other tied-up terrorists and the crowds of hostages out of the Embassy.
Cheers rose up from the onlookers, as well as the coworkers around Lois. The news reporter on the television explained the shots had come from one of the terrorist's guns when Superman had flown in, but the bullets had missed their intended human targets. Everyone was fine.
A sudden sense of nostalgia washed over her as she looked around at her crowd of co-workers, all of them excited over Superman's latest feat. She smiled a slow smile. This reminded her so much of that day so many months ago when she'd stood in this very spot, watching the TVs with her coworkers as the mystery of a man dressed in blue and red, with a flowing red cape and flashy red boots, had swooped down to rescue the colonists on the shuttle launch. And in the process, he had set the world on its ear.
Determined and impassioned all those months ago, she had launched herself at the story. She had pleaded with her editor to send her to Metropolis, to let her get the exclusive on this super hero. When he'd agreed, she'd set out after the story with a drive reserved for stories as big as he. Yet what she had found had ended up being so much more.
He had ended up being the man who would change her life forever.
Unbidden tears blurred her vision. How could she possibly consider ending their relationship? What she'd been given was a special gift--one she knew only came along once in a lifetime. If something happened and she lost him down the road, at least she would have been true to her heart and loved him for the time she had him. And she had no doubt that that love would be returned one hundred fold.
As desperately as she wanted to protect her heart, she knew Clark had been right. You couldn't protect your loved ones all the time. And if you were afraid to love somebody because you were ultimately afraid you might lose them, you were letting those fears rule you. She didn't want to live her life like that. No matter how long she had left with him, she knew she wanted to spend that precious time with him.
But then the sad, haunted look she'd seen in his eyes when she'd left his apartment Saturday morning came rushing to the forefront of her mind. She'd hurt him that morning. It had been in his eyes. But he had still let her go, even though she knew his heart was probably aching at her refusal to stay.
She shook her head sadly. She'd been such a coward, she decided, rushing off as she had. But she honestly hadn't known what else to do. She needed her space. That much she knew. And it had helped. Her clarity had returned, so maybe it had been a good thing to put some distance between them. But still, she felt like turning tail and running had been the more cowardice thing to do. More than ever, she knew she needed to make things right between them.
"Lois!"
Lois blinked. Suddenly realizing that somebody was standing beside her trying to get her attention, she looked up. Jim was standing there, looking at her curiously.
"I have a new assignment for you. I just got a tip from the Senator's office that one of the aides knows who was behind the bribery attempt to get the bill passed in the Senate. I want you on it. You're the best I've got."
Flattered at his confidence in her, she stood up and grabbed her notebook. "I'm on it, Chief."
He walked away, and Lois was about to head for the elevators when she remembered her decision. She glanced at the phone. She had to call Clark. More than anything, they needed to talk.
Deciding she had at least a minute to leave him a message on his home answering machine, she picked up the phone and dialed. She was relieved when she did indeed get the answering machine, and not Clark himself. As much as she wanted to talk, she just couldn't do it right now.
She waited for the end of the greeting, and then heard the beep. She nearly chickened out, but then steeled herself.
"Clark, it's me." She quickly tried to decide what exactly she should say. Realizing she probably didn't have a lot of time to leave her message, she forced herself to hurry on. "I saw you on the news. I'm glad you're okay. I knew you would be." She paused again. "Look, can we talk? There is so much I want to talk to you about...things that have been running through my mind the last few days. I just...well, I don't know how much time there is to record this message, so...just call me, okay? Not on my cell today, though, because Jim is sending me out on a story and I'll probably be swamped with that all day. But...well...I miss you, Clark. Call me, okay?"
Wishing she could say more of what was in her heart, she finally decided to leave it at that and hung up.
Feeling a glimmer of hope that maybe they could make it through this, she set off for the elevators.
~*~*~*~*~
That night, as she drove home, Lois felt an unjustified anxiety welling up inside of her. She hadn't yet heard from Clark. Did that mean anything?
'Of course it means something,' the sarcastic voice in her head chided. 'It means you told him not to call you on your cell because you were going to be busy working. What were you expecting?'
She sighed and shook her head. That was true. She had told him not to call.
'And he could be busy, too, you know,' the rational voice came. 'He could be busy at work, the same as you. He probably hasn't even been home from work yet to check his messages. He could even be out saving somebody.'
Feeling a little better, she managed to steady her nerves as she drove the rest of the way home. When she let herself into her apartment a short time later, she shut the door behind her and made a beeline for the answering machine.
The light was blinking.
Her heart leaped. With shaking hands, she pressed the 'play' button. Clark's deep, rich voice came into the room. She felt a warmth spread through her at the sound, suddenly realizing just how much she'd missed it. She listened as he spoke.
"Lois, it's me. I'm so glad you called," he said on a sigh of relief. "I've thought about you non-stop this week and I've wanted to call you a hundred times to see how you were, but I wanted to respect your request for some space."
There was a pause, and then another sigh. "I wish I could come out tonight to talk, but I'm supposed to be at a fundraiser in an hour. Maybe if it doesn't run too late, I'll try to call again after I get home. I remembered today that the Chronicle Gala is tomorrow. Did you still want me to come out for that?"
Lois let her head tip backward in frustration as she groaned up at the ceiling. She'd completely forgotten about the Gala. Jim probably had their tickets waiting for her in his office. But as much as she would have loved to attend a fancy ball with Clark, she didn't really feel up to a big society event. She was exhausted. Besides, she would much rather spend the night in with him, talking about everything that had been running through her head.
Clark's message continued, and she turned her attention back to his words.
"Let me know, okay?" he was saying. Then his voice grew husky as he said his next words. "I still love you, Lois. And...I miss you, too."
There was a click and the message ended.
Lois felt a tingle sweep through her when she realized he didn't hate her for the way she'd treated him. But she still felt there was much to be said. Hopefully they could get together soon and she could apologize for being such a coward.
She glanced at her watch. It was getting late in the evening there in Metropolis, but she figured Clark was likely still at his fundraiser. The least she could do, though, was leave him a message in return.
Dialing his number, she found herself smiling. They were playing phone tag. But at least they were on their way to moving forward.
As expected, there was no answer at Clark's apartment, and she listened for the beep. When it came, she started to speak.
"Hi, Clark, it's me again. I just got your message, and I'm guessing you're at the fundraiser right now. I'm glad you called me back. I was worried you might not, after the way I left on Saturday. Give me a call when you get a chance, okay? Oh, and about the Gala..." She broke off and sighed. "I don't know, Clark. I haven't felt very good this week, and I'm so tired. Would you mind so much if we skipped it? I'd rather stay home and get some rest. I thought I'd just tell Jim to let someone else take the tickets he has for us. I hope that's okay. Anyway, call me when you can."
Lois hung up, then tried to go about her evening. She jumped every time the phone rang, but each time a voice other than Clark's came across the line. By ten o'clock, she gave up hope. It was one o'clock on the east coast, and she assumed that the lack of contact from Clark meant he was in the middle of something, maybe even a rescue in some foreign land.
As tired as she was, she decided to head to bed. She could only hope that they'd get in touch with each other tomorrow.
~*~*~*~*~
By the next afternoon, Lois's hope to touch base with Clark had faded. She had been so busy with work that she knew she wouldn't have had a chance to talk to Clark even if he had called. She'd had to use some good old-fashioned hard-nosed reporting skills to follow up on her investigation dealing with the Senator's aide, spending the entire day tracking down leads, talking to sources, and phoning people for comments. By four o'clock, she was exhausted.
She glanced around the mostly empty newsroom. The Chronicle's Gala was that night, and it looked like most of her coworkers had finished up their stories and cut out early, hoping to get a jump on getting ready for the big event. Lois had told Clark she had changed her mind about going, but was there any reason why she shouldn't cut out early, as well? Her story had been typed up and submitted to her editor, and everything else she was working on could wait until Monday.
In only a moment of deliberation, Lois decided to leave. She was eager to get home and try to get in touch with Clark. She turned off her computer and slipped into her raincoat. The weather had become chilly and rainy that day, and she hoped to keep dry as she weathered the elements.
She had just slung her purse and attache onto her shoulder when her phone rang. She stopped. Should she answer it? If it was something work related, she could be stuck there for a while longer. But what if it was Clark?
Finally deciding to brave it, she picked up the phone. "Lois Lane."
"Ms. Lane. I'm glad I caught you."
The voice that responded wasn't Clark's, and her heart sank. She glanced up at the clock. With a sigh, she set her bag back down on the desk and sat in her chair once again. "Who is this?" she inquired, forcing politeness into her voice that she didn't quite feel.
The masculine voice came across the line again. "I'm someone who may have the answers you seek for a story you've been investigating."
A glimmer of interest sparked within her. "Oh? Which story is that?"
"Just a certain story dealing with Mesopotamia, Inc. and a link between them and Metropolis Shipping. How would you like a push in the right direction?"
Lois's heart started to pound. "What information do you have?" she asked, trying to maintain a professional indifference tone in her voice.
"Uh-uh." The voice grew low. "Not over the phone. I know people have been trying to keep tabs on your investigation. How do I know they haven't tapped your phone? I want to meet in person."
"Just tell me when and where," she agreed, her pulse racing.
She scrambled for a pencil and notepad and scribbled down the address he gave. He wanted to meet in one hour at the old manufacturing plant on Route Three. She knew where it was. It was out in the boonies and in a rather seedy area, but she wasn't about to let this source get away without learning what he knew.
"I've got it," she told him as she finished writing down the information. She tore the paper from the notepad. "I'll be there in one hour." The line went dead, and Lois hung up the phone.
She and Clark were so close to tracking this all back to Luthor, and this information could be just the break they needed. This guy was going to be able to help them. She just knew it. Besides, this was exactly how so many of her big stories came together--a nervous, finger-pointing, anonymous source showing up when she least expected it.
Slinging her attache back onto her shoulder, she was ready to hurry to the elevator--but then stopped. Clark had made her promise not long ago to let him come with her in exactly these situations. He worried about her, she knew. But did she really have time to call him?
She reached up to finger the bandage still affixed to her temple. She hadn't exactly been accident free lately, and neither had Clark. Someone had gone gunning for him just a few days ago. How could she be certain this wasn't a set-up?
'And how can you be certain this man's not telling the truth?' the more adventurous voice of Mad Dog Lane came from her head. 'If he is, are you really going to risk losing the information he wants to share?'
In an instant, her mind was made up. But she would call Clark and get him to go with her. That would make him happy. And it would make her happy. Not only would she feel justified in meeting this source, but she would finally get to see Clark after a week's separation.
Lois picked up the phone again and dialed Clark's home number, deciding he would probably be home from work by now. The phone rang once, twice, three times. Then the answering machine came on.
Disappointment hit her. What was she supposed to do now? The factory was nearly an hour away, if you added in the drive in evening traffic. If she waited any longer, she wouldn't make it in time.
She listened to his voice coming across the line as the greeting message, trying to decide. Just as the beep sounded, she made up her mind.
"Clark, it's me. I just had a guy phone me, saying he has information for me about our Meso, Inc. and Metropolis Shipping investigations. I can't pass this up. And just so you can't yell at me later for being reckless, I want the record to show that I *did* try to call you to get you to come with me." She grinned as she imagined his scolding look when he would hear that. "I'm meeting the guy in an hour at the old manufacturing factory on Route Three near the junction. In case you get this message before then, you can meet me there."
And with that, she hung up. Tightening the belt on her raincoat, she hurried for the elevator.
~*~*~*~*~
The drive out of town on the freeway was harrowing as she navigated the heavy traffic in the light but steady rain. Her windshield wipers made a rhythmic sound as they swiped back and forth across the glass. Any other time she would have found the sound and motion soothing, but tonight she was pressed for time.
She kept glancing at the clock on her dashboard, growing more anxious by the minute. If she didn't hurry, she was going to miss their meeting time. And she had no idea if the man would wait. Nervous sources often didn't.
Stepping on the accelerator, she sped forward and made a quick lane change, narrowing missing the car coming up behind her. A horn blared, but Lois drove on, oblivious. Finally she reached the turnoff and found herself speeding down Route Three. It was only minutes before the large, abandoned factory loomed ahead.
She pulled into the deserted parking lot and looked around. There didn't appear to be anyone there. Various pieces of machinery had been crated up and stuck under the covering of the loading dock near the door along the north side. She noticed the door beside the loading dock was unlocked, swinging open and shut in the gusting wind.
Lois turned off her car and listened. The only sound she could hear was the soft pitter patter of rain on the car and the sound of the gusting wind rushing past. It was creepy, she decided, this place where the man had told her he'd meet her. She stared out the rain-streaked windshield at the three-story brick building, with most of its windows broken out and boarded up. In its time, it had been a profitable venture in the industry, but this building had long since been abandoned for a more key location nearer the city.
She glanced around once more, half hoping she would spot Clark there somewhere waiting for her. But he wasn't. It was up to her to meet with her source.
Opening the car door, she flipped up the hood on her raincoat and started toward the building's open door. She slipped in through the door and looked around. The place was a mess. Old desks had been piled up in the far corner, and old bits of rusting machinery were littered about.
An upstairs window banged in the wind, making her jump. Her senses strained to determine if she was alone, or if her source was already there waiting for her. Just then a scrape and a thump near the back of the building caught her attention. Straining to hear, she caught the sound of fading footsteps and then a door slamming.
"Hello?" she called out, her voice echoing in the room around her. "Is anybody here?"
As she walked through the room toward the sounds, goose bumps stood up on her arms. Everything inside her warned her to be careful. She tip-toed cautiously into the next room, noticing it looked much like the first. A soft, almost inaudible sound caught her attention, and she crossed the room toward it.
A desk stood near the back of the room, piled with miscellaneous pieces of machinery. She tracked the noise to the pile, the quiet beeping becoming more audible as she approached. She stopped in front of the desk and frowned. What on earth was making the noise?
Suddenly her eyes widened and her blood ran cold. A small, metal box sat in the center of the pile, luminous red numbers flashing on an LCD screen. They appeared to be counting down. Sixteen. Fifteen. Fourteen. Thirteen. Lois took in the colored wire running from the back of the box into a wrapped gray mound resembling a brick.
Fear rose up in her throat. It was a bomb!
Her body springing into action, she turned to run. She dodged and jumped over the boxes and items in her path as she ran back the way she came. The outer door loomed closer and closer as she sped through the room. When she finally reached the door, she flung it open and hurtled herself through it, out into the rain.
Time seemed to stand still as she leaped from the steps. She felt helpless to do anything more than pray that she would be far enough away from the building in time. She hit the ground and immediately scrambled to her fee, hoping she could put enough distance between herself and the building before the bomb went off.
But in the next instant, an ear-shattering explosion shook the world around her, and a fiery hot blast erupted from the building. The force of the explosion jolted her violently and sent her catapulting into the air.
When she finally hit the ground, a surge of pain shot through her body. She felt the searing heat of the flames licking at her body and she struggled for breath in the thick, dark smoke. Her chest grew tight, and the world started to ebb and dim around her. Darkness loomed dangerously close, and Lois felt helpless to fight it.
Before she could contemplate her demise, everything went black.
~*~*~*~*~
Clark slammed the phone down in frustration and concern and dropped into his chair at his desk. Where was she?
He knew she wasn't home. He'd tried there first. But he'd spent the last hour alternately calling her work number and cell number, with no luck. There hadn't been any answer at work, and her voice mail picked up on the first ring on her cellular. That meant either she was on a really long cell phone conversation, or she had turned off her phone.
He shook his head. He didn't like this. And what was worse, he couldn't even say why he didn't like this. Something just seemed to nag at him, an uneasy, unsettling feeling that something was wrong.
Leaning back in his chair, he glared around at the nearly deserted newsroom. He'd stayed late to work on the follow up to the Metropolis Shipping article, and only the skeleton night crew manned the floor.
For a long minute, he sat there, trying to decide what to do. Finally he pushed back from his desk and stood up. He would go home. Maybe by the time he got there, he'd be able to reach Lois.
Feeling frustrated, he took the elevator down to the ground level and left the building. The streets were bustling with Friday night activity, and Clark did his best to maneuver through the crowds. The closer he got to his apartment and away from the main thoroughfares, the more the crowd thinned. There were very few people on the sidewalk by the time he reached his apartment.
As he approached, he caught the smell of cigarette smoke. He didn't think much of it until he reached the steps to his apartment and saw a man lurking in the shadows.
His body tensed. "Who's there?" he called out, his voice threatening.
The man took a step back at his threatening tone, but he didn't run. When Clark drew closer, he recognized the man as one of his sources. The man he knew only as Deep Throat had fed him insider information on the various government corruptions he'd reported in the past, and the man seemed to have his own web of resources to the underground and black market.
The fact that the man was here meant there was trouble.
He greeted Clark with a nod and pulled the cigarette from his lips, exhaling a puff of blue smoke into the darkness. "I wanted to pass along a bit of information I learned this afternoon," the man explained as he dropped his cigarette butt to the dirt and ground it out with the toe of his boot.
"What information?" Clark pressed.
The man met his gaze steadily, his black skin and dark eyes and hair blending into the shadows around him. "Words out on the street that Superman, you, and Lois Lane have pissed off somebody big. He's planning to take care of you. Permanently, if you know what I mean. You'd better watch your step."
Clark frowned and nodded grimly, remembering the bullet that had been shot into his body almost a week before. Whoever this 'somebody big' was, he'd already tried his hand at eliminating Superman, but Clark had managed to make it through. And he, as Clark Kent, knew he had nothing more to fear.
But Lois did.
An invisible hand clenched around Clark's heart. "What else have you heard?" he demanded, the unsettling feeling of before suddenly seeming more ominous.
Deep Throat shrugged. "Not much. I can't tell you who's behind this, but I overhead some guy bragging about how he was going to rig some old factory in San Francisco with explosives. He said his boss told him to make it big so it would make a statement." Deep Throat broke off, and a confused look crossed his face. "Come to think of it, I overheard the guy say you were supposed to be there, too. Why would he say that?"
Clark's chest constricted. The Gala! Somebody knew he was supposed to be in San Francisco that night for the Chronicle Gala. Whoever this guy was, he'd set something up to entrap them both while he would be in town with Lois.
But Lois was alone. And he wasn't there to protect her.
In a panic, he took off running. He took the stairs two at a time and burst into his apartment, knowing he had to call Lois to warn her. It was his best bet, since he had no idea where this old factory was, and it could take hours to track her down in the Bay Area.
He snatched the phone from the cradle and dialed her number frantically. No answer. He tried her other two numbers. Still no answer. With his heart in his throat, he decided he had no choice but to fly out there and do his best to find her.
If she wasn't already dead.
The thought nearly suffocated him. He shook his head to rid it of the thought. No, she had to be okay. She just had to be. Clinging to that reassurance would be the only way to get him through this.
He set the phone down on the counter and stepped back to spin into the Suit when he caught sight of the red light flashing on his answering machine. Daring to hope, he punched the button. Lois's voice blared out from the speaker.
"Clark, it's me. I just had a guy phone me, saying he has information for me about our Meso, Inc. and Metropolis Shipping investigations. I can't pass this up. And just so you can't yell at me later for being reckless, I want the record to show that I *did* try to call you to get you to come with me. I'm meeting the guy in an hour at the old manufacturing factory on Route Three near the junction. In case you get this message before then, you can meet me there."
With that, the answering machine clicked and fell silent.
Wasting no time, Clark spun into his Suit and rocketed from his apartment. The night sky was a blur of stars and clouds as he shot past heading to the west coast, his heart in his throat. He was hovering above San Francisco only moments later, desperately trying to figure out where to go from there. He'd only ever been to San Francisco to see Lois, and only once had he been down the city's streets with her. He didn't exactly know where Route Three was, but he scanned the lighted roadways as he flew north, hoping with all his heart he would be able to find it.
Finally a sign announcing Route Three appeared below him, and he started scouring the landscape. She had said it was near the junction. In that case, the old factory had to be nearby.
Just then a deafening explosion rocked the world around him, momentarily sending him off course. He quickly regained his bearings and whirled around. He spotted a large, fiery cloud of smoke and flames rising from a building a couple miles down the road.
His blood ran cold.
Tears blurred his vision as he sped toward it, hoping with every fiber of his being that Lois hadn't been anywhere near that building. When he reached the site, he could see the old building was engulfed in flames. The explosion had sent debris raining down everywhere, and the thick smoke pouring out over everything made it impossible to see.
He landed and began to search frantically. "Lois!" he hollered, coughing on the smoke that seeped into his lungs. "Lois, are you here?"
The distant sound of sirens told him that the explosion hadn't gone unnoticed even in its remote location, and that help was on his way. But he feared it was already too late.
He continued to run through the smoke, scouring the area. The sight of a car lying on its top fifty yards way in a heap of twisted metal made his stomach turn.
It's was Lois's BMW.
A strangled cry escaped from his lips as he rushed toward it and tore off the door. "Lois!" he yelled frantically, searching the interior for signs of life. While the car was a crumpled mess, there was no sign of anyone inside. He turned and looked at the burning building in horror.
If she hadn't been in the car....
His throat tightened and the tears in his eyes began to fall. Even with the knowledge that nobody could have survived the blast inside, he couldn't stop himself from running towards the demolished structure. He jumped over bricks, burning lumber, and twisted hunks of metal as he ran, tears streaming down his face.
He was nearly there when his super hearing picked out a faint noise from the sounds of disaster filling the air. Hoping beyond hope, he followed the noise to his right to a large pile of debris.
He paused and strained to listen once again for the sound. A moment later, the noise came again. With a sense of urgency he'd never before felt, he franticly began throwing aside the debris and searching the area in front of him.
Then he saw it. A hand and arm protruding from beneath a large sheet of wood.
In a heartbeat he was there, flinging the debris off the pile and digging through to the still figure lying underneath. When the last piece of lumbar had been lifted away, a familiar face ripped at his heart.
Lois.
She lay still on her side, her body covered with black soot and smoke. He rushed to her side and dropped to his knees beside her. Her arm lay at a grotesque, unnatural angle, and a large gash ran along her cheekbone. But what concerned him the most was that she didn't appear to be breathing.
"Lois!" he yelled, giving her limp body a shake. There was no response. He tried again. "Lois, can you hear me?"
When there was still no answer, he rolled her onto her back and pressed his ear to her chest. He heaved a sigh of relief when he picked up a faint heartbeat. But when he put his cheek to her lips, he couldn't feel any air coming from them. Guessing that she was suffering from smoke inhalation and that her airway was being clogged by the thick, black smoke, he surged into action.
He gathered her quickly into his arms and flew to an unlittered area of the parking lot away from the burning flames and swirling smoke. He set her down quickly yet gently, then let instinct take over. He tipped her chin up and leaned down, pressing his mouth over hers. He blew into her mouth, breathing for her as he heard the sirens approaching.
"Please, Lois," he murmured between breaths. "Stay with me."
A fire truck arrived on the scene, its siren blaring, and stopped not far from where he was crouched beside Lois. In a flash, the fire crew was beside him. They seemed to accept Superman's presence, and without question, they turned their attentions to the victim on the ground. One of them dropped a hand onto Clark's shoulder and told him he as a medic. Feeling numb and helpless, Clark rocked back on his heels as the man leaned over Lois, assessing her condition.
After a quick look, the man agreed with Clark's assessment that she was suffering from smoke inhalation, with secondary concerns of broken bones and cuts that would likely need stitching. He hollered at another crew member to call for an ambulance, but Clark quickly shook his head.
"No time. I can fly her to a hospital faster than an ambulance could get here and take her back." He gathered Lois into his arms and then stood up, taking great care not to jostle her. "Could you call the emergency team and let them know I'm bringing her in?"
The man nodded, and Clark managed to thank him before taking to the sky. It was barely a minute before they touched down in front of the sliding glass doors of the ER, but it felt like an eternity. The medic at the scene of the explosion had been true to his word at calling in their approach, and an emergency crew was waiting for them.
They rushed toward him the second they spotted the red-and-blue clad hero coming in through the doors.
"What's her condition?" the doctor who seemed to be in charge asked, helping Superman lower Lois's still body onto a gurney. An oxygen mask was quickly slipped over her nose and mouth, and the doctor's experienced gaze roamed over her as Clark explained what had happened. The doctor nodded, then starting barking out orders at his medical team.
They started rushing her down the hall through a set of doors, but the doctor held up a hand to stop him. His eyes were sympathetic as he shook his head. "Thanks for all you've done, Superman, but we can't allow you past this point. Immediate family members only."
Clark's jaw dropped open, a protest forming on his lips. But then he snapped his jaw shut, remembering who he was supposed to be. He straightened into the best Superman posture he could manage at the moment and nodded. "That's fine. Her husband is on his way. I'll see that he knows where to go."
The doctor seemed relieved at his understanding. "When he arrives, tell him to check in with the ER desk and tell the nurse who he is. He'll be allowed back."
Clark nodded once more, then turned and sped from the building. Clark Kent jogged through the sliding ER doors a moment later, and he told the ER nurse at the desk he was the husband of the woman who had just been brought in. She nodded, then waved him back. He was directed down the hall and to the last room on his right. It was more a space than a room, partitioned off from the other spaces by drawn white curtains.
The doctor was still barking out orders at his team, and he glanced up at Clark when he stepped through the curtain. "You must be the husband?" he inquired with a raised eyebrow.
Clark hesitated only a moment before nodding. He hated to give the little white lie, but there was no way he was going to be kept away from Lois.
Moving to the free spot along her side, he grasped her fingers and looked into Lois's dirty, smudged face. "How is she?" he asked. A nurse jostled him and he moved aside without letting go of her hand.
"I think she's going to be okay," the doctor said, cleaning the long gash on her arm. "Her airway wasn't completely blocked, so once we were able to get the oxygen mask on her, her respiration improved. We need to take some X-Rays, though. Her arm is broken, and I suspect she might have a couple of broken ribs. The good news is there doesn't appear to be any internal bleeding. The fact that she's still unconscious also makes me suspect a possible concussion."
"She was in your ER several days ago for a concussion," Clark told him. "I didn't know if you needed to know that."
The doctor smiled slightly as he continued to assess her condition. "The adventurous type, huh?"
Clark grimaced. "You have no idea."
"Well, all in all, she's a lucky girl, considering."
Clark agreed, and the doctor went to work splinting her arm and stitching up the long gash along her cheek. As soon as that was done, they moved her off down the hall to the X-Ray room for broken bones.
They were halfway down the hall when the jostling caused Lois's eyelids to flicker, then open. Clark tightened his hand around hers and reached down to touch her cheek. "Lois, can you hear me?"
Lois blinked a couple of times, then turned drowsy eyes his direction. "Clark?" she whispered, her voice hoarse and scratchy.
He nodded. "Yeah, it's me. I'm here."
Tears formed in her eyes and trailed a path down through the soot on her cheeks. "I should have waited for you," she squeaked. "I suspected something was going on, but I went into the building anyway. I know I shouldn't have--" She broke off as a coughing fit ensued. She slid her splinted arm across her ribs, obviously hurting. When the coughing fit subsided, she let her head fall back onto her pillow.
"Try not to talk," the doctor beside her instructed. "Your husband's not going anywhere. You can talk to him when your lungs clear."
Lois coughed a couple more times, then looked questioningly from the doctor to Clark. "My husband?"
The doctor nodded, then frowned. "Yes," he said, looking in confusion up at Clark. "Don't you remember?"
Fear rose up in Clark's throat. "Yes, honey," he said, trying to keep his voice steady as he leaned down closer to her. "It's me, Clark. Your husband. Don't you remember?"
Lois looked at him through heavy lidded eyes for a moment, but she still managed to grasp what he was saying. She swallowed painfully then took a quick glance at the doctor. Then she turned back to Clark. "Sorry, my mind's a little fuzzy."
The doctor smiled kindly and patted her shoulder. "That's normal after this kind of accident. It probably has a lot to do with that head injury you have, too. Don't worry, though, we'll get you through this."
Clark breathed a sigh of relief as his cover story remained intact. He tightened his hand on Lois's as she shook her head and once again met Clark's gaze.
"I'm so sorry for everything," she continued, a lone tear trickling down her dirty cheek. "I shouldn't have run off like that the last time I saw you. I was such a coward..."
"Shhh," Clark soothed, pressing a hand to her cheek as he walked along beside her. "You are not a coward. You were scared. I know that. But let's talk about that later, okay? Don't try to talk. You have smoke inhalation, which has irritated the tissue in your throat and lungs."
She nodded and closed her eyes groggily. "Where are we going?" The question was spoken in the softest of whispers in order to avoid another coughing fit, but she knew he'd be able to hear her.
"They're taking you for X-Rays."
"My ribs hurt," she managed.
The doctor broke in reassuringly. "Just hang in there, okay?" he told her, giving her shoulder a squeeze. "And don't try to breathe too deeply. If you do have broken ribs, it will only make it hurt worse."
Lois did her best to squeeze Clark's hand, and he looked down to see the fear in her eyes. "Will you stay with me?" she whispered.
Clark nodded, offering up a tremulous smile. "You bet I will, Lois. I'm not going anywhere."
**********
Clark stayed in the chair at Lois's bedside that night, content to lay his head on the bed next to her and doze. The steady beeping of the hospital monitor had lulled him into a light sleep, but as had become the pattern that night, his peaceful slumber hadn't lasted.
Straightening in his chair, he stretched the stiffness out of his back before returning his hand to Lois's.
She'd been lucky, considering. She managed to come away from the explosion with a broken wrist, a cracked rib, and some stitches. And considering that she could have been killed....
Not for the first time that night, Clark felt an overwhelming sense of guilt rush through him. 'If only I'd gotten here a minute sooner,' he thought despondently. 'If only we lived closer and it was easier for me to be here for her...'
A myriad of "if only's" had run through his head all night, each one more guilt inducing than the last. When it came right down to it, though, he knew it was his fault. He hadn't been there for her when she'd called, or when she'd ultimately needed him.
What made him feel even worse was the fact that she'd told him last night she was sorry for running out on him that last weekend, and that she considered herself a coward for doing so. He didn't think of her that way. She'd been scared. They'd both been scared. But it had clearly been too much for her to handle, with having gone through something similar years before when she'd had to watch the ones she loved die before her very eyes.
He shook his head grimly. He should have tried harder--to comfort her and ease her fears, to stop her from running away. But he hadn't. He'd let her go. And in essence, he'd sent her fleeing for home, and directly into the path of a madman.
Tears pooled in his eyes as he stared dismally at the cuts on bruises on Lois's face, and at the arm lying across her stomach encased in a white fiberglass cast. He gaze shifted back to her face, and he reached out to brush back a long strand of hair from her face tenderly.
He loved her so much. When he thought of how close he'd come to losing her....
A single tear escaped and trailed down his cheek. Lois had told him once that nobody expected him to be everywhere or save everyone. He knew she was right. But if he couldn't keep the people he loved most from getting hurt, what good were his powers?
Lois started coughing, and Clark watched her with concern. She'd been doing that off and on all night, sometimes coughing herself awake, and other times managing to sleep through the episode. When he expressed his concern about it to the doctor, he'd reassured him that it was normal after inhaling so much smoke.
Clark sighed with relief when her coughing fit subsided and she settled back into a deeper sleep. His heart ached as he continued to watch her, rubbing her good arm lightly as she slept.
A nurse came in a short time later to take her vitals, and Clark moved out of her way. When the nurse assured him she'd be there for a few minutes to make some notes on Lois's chart, Clark decided to slip out of the room and phone his parents to tell them where he was and what had happened.
They were just finishing breakfast when he called, and they were both horrified to hear what happened, but relieved to know she was going to be okay.
"That girl certainly has a nose for trouble," his dad said solemnly. "It sounds like she's pretty lucky to be alive."
Clark couldn't agree more.
Agreeing to keep his parents informed, he hung up and returned to Lois's room, settling back into the chair at her bedside. She stirred when he took her hand, and he leaned forward eagerly. Her eyes flickered open a moment later.
"Hey," he said softly, smiling at her when she met his gaze.
"Hey," she whispered back, her voice still sounding scratchy.
"How are you feeling?"
She closed her eyes for a moment, then cringed as she swallowed. "I feel like I've been hit by a truck."
The dagger of guilt dug further into Clark's heart, and he struggled to keep his breathing even. He nodded sympathetically and tightened his hand around hers. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, Lois. Is there anything I can do to help you feel better?"
"Thanks, but all I feel like doing is sleeping," she admitted. "The doctor told me last night there isn't much they can do about the smoke inhalation other than giving me the 100% oxygen," she reached up to finger the tiny tubes running her nostrils, "and they've already set and cast my arm. There's nothing they can do about my cracked rib, though, except tell me to tape my ribs if it helps, and be careful while they heal. I should be getting out of here tomorrow."
Clark nodded and blinked rapidly, fighting back the tears her explanation drew. To hear how much she'd been hurt because of he hadn't been there in time made him wish it could have been him instead of her.
He cleared his throat and tried to sound upbeat. "That's great. And just so you know, I plan on staying with you for a couple of days. I'll help you in any way that I can."
She shook her head. "Clark, I don't want missing work for me. I'll be okay. I'm sure Agnes..." She let the word die on her lips, and then she groaned. "Oh, Agnes is never going to let go of this. I have to tell her where I am, but she's going to be furious at me for doing something so pigheaded. She'll be lobbying for me to find a desk job harder than ever."
Clark chuckled in spite of himself. She was right. That was exactly what Agnes would do. "I called my parents this morning to tell them what was going on," he told her, "and I'll make sure to call Agnes this morning to let her know you're okay. Maybe I'll even try to convince her to go easy on you." He smiled, but he could tell that it hadn't reached all the way into his eyes because Lois frowned at him slightly.
She lifted her hand to touch his cheek, noting the dark shadow of stubble across his chin. "You look tired," she observed quietly.
He sighed, then inclined his head. "I guess I am. I haven't slept much. I've been worried about you."
She smiled wearily. "There you go, worrying about me again when we should be worried about you. I haven't had a chance to talk to you since last weekend. Are you sure you're better? No unexpected side effects?"
"No." Clark shook his head. "All my powers have returned. It's as if it never happened."
He reached up to cover Lois's hand on his cheek with his own. Then his fingers tightened around hers and he drew her hand to his lips, pressing a light kiss against her knuckles. Tears welled up once again in his eyes and he lowered their joined hands to the mattress.
"I just wish we could say the same thing for you, that the whole thing had never happened. I am so sorry, Lois. This is all my fault. I should have been there for you."
Lois noted the tears in his eyes, and a look of concern darted across her face. "Clark, don't say that. Please. I know you have a guilt complex a mile wide, but please believe me when I saw this wasn't your fault. It was mine. I should have waited, used better judgment. But as usual, I rushed right in without thinking. One of these days I'll learn my lesson."
Clark studied her face for any signs that she was only humoring him, but he could tell she was being sincere. She really didn't blame him. But it didn't matter. He still blamed himself.
The rest of the day went by in a blur. Lois improved steadily over the next several hours, and by the next morning, the doctor told her she was ready to go home. Clark was skeptical, but the doctor assured him there was nothing more they could do for her there. All she needed to make a full recovery was lots of rest.
So Clark took her home around lunchtime, and Agnes rushed out of her apartment as soon as she heard the elevator chime to help him settle Lois into her apartment. With Clark and Agnes around to make sure she stayed in bed, she recovered rapidly.
Even so, Clark still couldn't let go of his guilt.
In spite of his best efforts to get ride of it, it grew steadily over the next couple of days as he watched Lois struggle through daily tasks with her cast, and ease herself around her apartment because her body was too sore to do otherwise.
Clark found himself taking to the dark night skies while Lois was sleeping, in an effort to escape the constant reminders of his gross negligence. But even the once soothing task of flying over the peaceful, slumbering cities below him did little to ease his nagging guilt.
'I have all these powers,' he thought to himself as he soared higher, hoping the thinner air might help take the sting off his ragged emotions, 'but I was still helpless to stop Lois from getting hurt.'
What made things even worse than the realization that he was clearly useless at protecting the people he loved, though, was the fact that he couldn't even protect himself now that there wa
