~~~Part 8~~~
Lois had woken up early that morning, surprised that she'd been able to sleep at all. Things still didn't look as clear. It was all a confusing mess. But she felt a bit calmer. Or maybe she was just numb. Too many emotions to deal with, so she just wasn't dealing at all.
She still needed Clark's help, though, and she had said she'd be over. She had the funny feeling that if she didn't go over, he'd come looking for her.
So that was why she was currently walking - probably a bit too slow - over to his apartment. She turned the corner onto Clinton Street and halted.
Reporters. A whole slew of them. Vans, cameras, and hundreds of reporters - all gathered outside 344 Clinton Street. Oh, lord! What had happened? There hadn't been any reporters last night.
<Well... my vacation actually might be over now...>
Right. He was back. Of course the mass media would be all over that. Superman was big news.
But...
He'd said she could come over. Anytime. He'd been so sincere. Why would he have chosen to announce his return today? He should have known that she wouldn't want to walk through a throng of news hungry heathens, unless... he hadn't really meant it. No. He'd meant it, she was sure of it. So he'd obviously just not thought about her when he'd done it.
That was okay. Really. She shouldn't expect to be on his mind his every waking moment. He had a life, other things he needed to get done, including announcing his return. But why today? Why the day he'd said she could come over?
Lois eyed the vultures warily. They were hungry, anxious. Her brow furrowed. That didn't seem right. If Clark had announced his return, wouldn't he have held a press conference for that? And then afterwards, surely, the reporters would camp outside his apartment looking for follow-up stories, but...
She edged closer to the herd and her breath caught in her throat.
One of the reporters bellowed, startling her. "Open up, Kent! We know you're back!"
"Yeah, you owe us the story!"
She gasped. He *hadn't* announced it. Now, more than ever, she wanted to know what had happened. What had he done between the time she'd left and now to alert them to his presence? And... Why wasn't he answering them?
A sudden pang of concern for him shot through her. She knew as well as anyone that the media were relentless, callous, unforgiving. Something must have happened that he didn't want them to know about. Something he wasn't willing to talk to them about. But what? Surely he must be used to this kind of attention; he'd been Superman for... How long had the article said? Over a year now?
The real question now was - how was she going to get in there? She really didn't want to draw attention to herself, not like this. As much as she'd been dying to be alive again, this was not how she wanted to make her comeback. Besides, she couldn't afford to have her picture in the paper - not when it'd be associated with Superman. All around the world. Everyone would read it. Everyone including the people she was hiding from.
So barreling through was not an option.
Other options? She had none. Not a single one. His apartment was covered at every angle. She didn't have his phone number, and it was certainly no guarantee that he'd answer. He no doubt had his phone unplugged by this point.
Think, Lane!
She was good on her feet, thinking on her toes. She was good under pressure, thrived on it. Or... at least she had been.
But she was stuck now. Between the proverbial rock and a hard place.
Lois turned and headed back to the Apollo. Stupid. She was stupid to have even entertained that small notion of hope she'd had that Clark would be able to help her. He clearly wasn't an option anymore, not unless she could figure out a way to get to him without being spotted by the media hounds.
Maybe it'd been a mistake to come back to Metropolis. Maybe she just should have picked up and started a new life somewhere else. Somewhere that no one had ever heard of the late great Lois Lane. Just forget about the gunrunners. Let them do as they will and hope they never found her.
But no, Mad Dog Lane was still hiding somewhere within, and she was screaming at the injustice of it all. Demanding that the wrongs be put right and the criminals in jail where they belonged. She had to do it. *Would* do it.
She just needed to find Clark Kent first.
Lois dug her room key out of her pocket as she approached her room. She paused and stared at the splintered wood to the left of the lock.
Someone had broken in.
She un-shouldered her backpack and quickly dug out the old pocket knife that had served her well in the Congo, opening up the blade as soon as she had it in her hands. Lois slung the bag over back over her shoulder and pocketed the key, leaving her one hand free to wield the knife and the other to open the door. She tensed as she slowly turned the knob and pushed the door inward, expecting an attack, but nothing prepared her for what she actually found. Sitting in the corner against the far wall was... Clark Kent.
"Clark! You scared the hel-"
She stopped mid-rant when she saw the look on his face. Agonized. Helpless. The look pierced right through to her heart. She slammed the door shut behind her and rushed over to his side.
"What's wrong?"
He buried his head in his hands and rested his elbows on his knees. "I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't be here. I... just didn't..."
"Know where else to go. It's okay."
She shrugged out of her backpack and tossed it to the side. Sinking to the floor next to him, she put a hand on his arm, drawing his attention. "Tell me what happened, Clark."
***
He almost rejoiced in the tingle that coursed through him when she'd touched him. Almost. He shouldn't have come here. It was unfair to her. Just because she was the rightful Lois of this universe didn't mean that he could use her, take advantage of her compassion. He shouldn't need it anyway. He shouldn't have flinched awake this morning when the reporters had started pounding on his door.
He shouldn't have cowered in his bedroom, fearful of the people that were only doing their jobs. The same job he'd used to thrive on.
Before the other Lois Lane had come and everything had gone to hell.
Now, his... the Lois of his universe was here, sitting next to him on the floor of a cheap motel room, looking at him with such concern. Like she actually cared. About him.
He met her eyes, patient and caring. He wanted to tell her. *Longed* to tell her. Everything. But he didn't even know what to say. There was so much... too much.
He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out but a strangled whimper. And the next thing he knew, he was in her arms. He wasn't even sure when he'd started crying, but she was there, comforting him.
Hours later... or maybe it'd been minutes - he wasn't sure - he straightened, and swiped at his eyes. "Some Superman, huh?"
"Hey." Her voice was soft. Soothing. "Don't, Clark. Your feelings are just as valid as anyone's - Superman or no - maybe even more so. It's okay to cry. Now, do you want to talk about what happened after I left last night?"
That did it; that broke the dam, and it all poured out. The call for help. The way he'd been so inept. Forgotten to change. The police. The reporters. The long year he'd spent floundering in his misery and trying to be the superhero he was sure he'd never be.
Though... he didn't tell her why. He couldn't bring himself to tell her *she* was the reason he'd been so depressed. He couldn't tell her about the endless and hopeless year he'd spent searching for her. He didn't tell her about the Kryptonite either. He wouldn't. No one else would ever know about that - his failure at life. His failure at death. His failure at everything.
She didn't press for more, though, and he was grateful for that. He couldn't give her more. Especially when it might drive her away from him.
"So why were you so... depressed for so long?"
Fate just didn't like him.
Clark swiped at his eyes and sniffled, hating that he'd cried, been so weak in front of her. He cleared his throat. "I... it's... none of your business," he stammered with no real conviction behind his words. It *was* her business... in a way.
She straightened and her hand dropped from where it'd been resting on his arm this whole time, the distance she'd created between them cut harshly at him. "Oh. Okay. I understand."
She clearly didn't. And why would she? He'd been the one to come to her, seeking... comfort? He'd been the one to cry on her shoulder. He'd just told her some of his most private thoughts and emotions. Why shouldn't he tell her more?
"I'm sorry, Lois. It's... not that I don't trust you... it's that... well, I don't think I'm ready to share. Someday. Just... not now. I hope you can understand."
He was relieved when she relaxed visibly and nodded. "It's okay, Clark. I understand."
She smiled reassuringly at him. He attempted one in return... at least half of his mouth had made the upward journey.
"Lois?"
"Yeah, Clark?"
"Do you think... would it be okay if I stayed here? I'll sleep on the floor, obviously. I just don't want to go back to my apartment. I'm not ready to talk to the media."
Her warm smile faltered and she looked away from him, focusing on her ratty old backpack. Mistake. "I'm sorry, Lois. I shouldn't have asked. Never mind. Don't worry about it."
Her head snapped back quickly. "No, Clark. That's not it. It's just..." She ducked her head. Her voice was low and he had to strain a bit to hear it. "I don't have any money left. I actually need to check out soon..."
"Oh, God, Lois! Of course, why didn't I think of that? I'm sorry. I didn't even think about when you'd gotten back, why you were staying here. I'm such an idiot!"
"No, Clark. It's okay, really. I just... well, all my money, everything is gone. I've been dead. It'll take a while, but I'll get everything sorted out."
He could tell by the slight tremor in her voice... she was putting on a false bravado for him. "Lois, I have money. I'll give you some. And..." And what? She could stay at his place? No. Not with all the news-hungry reporters there. Not to mention *he* didn't even want to be there.
"Oh, Clark, I couldn't. I..." She ducked her head shamefully. "I'll pay you back. Every cent. I just... need to figure out how to get myself considered alive again. I was hoping, thinking that Perry would be able to help me, tell me what I need to do. But he's out of town. And I had to pawn my favorite necklace - the one my grandmother gave me - to even have the money to stay here. And -"
"Hey." Clark stroked her cheek with the back of his hand and waited until she looked at him. "Don't worry, Lois, I'll help you. Everything will be okay, I promise."
He wasn't sure what possessed him to do it, but somehow... of its own volition, his body swayed closer to hers and before he knew it, his lips were against hers. Soft and pliant. Welcoming. He threaded his fingers through her hair and moaned softly when her lips parted, allowing him to explore her further. It seemed like hours... touching, tasting, gasping for breath.
He finally pulled away, keeping his hand on her cheek.
He watched Lois flush breathlessly under his gaze, and he *knew* at that moment... she was *his* Lois Lane. No doubts. At least... no doubt about the fact that she was the rightful Lois of this universe.
And something about that kiss... something that he couldn't quite grasp a hold of. Something that was just out of his reach.
Clark let his hand fall to his lap and just stared at Lois. He couldn't do anything else. The heat in her cheeks. The slightly dazed and dreamy look in her eyes. The cadence of her breathing.
It scared him.
That feeling that maybe, just maybe, there could be a happily ever after here. Scared. Him. To. Death.
And then there was the feeling somewhere deep in his gut that something was wrong.
He shouldn't have kissed her.
Not that it hadn't been breathtaking, maybe even a tiny bit magical... but he shouldn't have done it.
"I'm sorry, Lois, I... that was a mistake."
TBC...
