table of contents ~^~^~^~^~^~^~
Conner's arrival made a small scene when he entered the ballroom on the ground floor of Port Royal. He wasn't sure why Lois had chosen that name, but it seemed to fit the design perfectly. Though not overly elaborate, it was beautiful. He'd taken a moment when he arrived to look around the ground floor a bit. He was most impressed, and amused, by the Superman museum. Sometimes it was hard to believe he'd was ever actually been that man.
His conscience was about to remind him of his vow not to mention those facts again when he heard someone call his name. He turned to see a very handsome young man in a pint-sized tux approach.
"Mr. Devon!"
Conner smiled and reached out to take the boy's hand. Without thought, he knelt so they were at eye level. "I thought I told you to call me Conner."
"Sorry." The boy returned the grin shyly as his hand fell back to his side. "Thank you for the puppy. He'd the best."
"I'm glad you like him."
"I love him. I named him Jerry."
Conner furrowed his brow at the boy, curious to know how such a name had come about, yet he stifled his interest, feeling it wasn't his place to intrude. Instead of asking, he waved his hand around the room. "This is really some event."
"Gets bigger every year." The boy beamed even brighter, happy to show off his mother's organizational skills. He was about to say something else when a voice caught his attention.
Conner's head snapped up when he saw the woman coming their way. His heart began a race inside his chest, his mouth was instantly dry, and he could feel himself start to sweat. Slowly he rose to his feet as she neared.
"Conner, I want you to meet my mom… Lois Lane." The boy reached out to take his mother's hand. "Lois Lane meet Conner Devon."
Lois involuntarily squeezed the smaller hand she held as she got her first look at the man before her. For a moment, she was speechless. The dark eyes bore into hers like none other she'd ever seen. Not since Cl... but she wouldn't go there!. The stranger, too, seemed just as stunned. He was staring at her with his mouth slightly agape.
Conner couldn't speak, couldn't think. All he could do was stare. God, she was beautiful. All of his senses began to tune into her. He could hear the fast drum of her heart, smell the delicate scent of her perfume, and almost feel the warmth of her body, even from two feet away.
Lois was first to recover and swallowed several times to regain her voice. "I, ah, I am very glad to meet you, Mr. Devon." She slowly extended her hand.
Conner's eyes flashed to the hand, then back to her eyes. He couldn't touch her. If he did, he'd lose it. Not waiting for a command from his brain, his hands lifted to hers. He took the delicate hand in both of his.
<<Damn! She still feels wonderful!>
He could feel the electricity the moment he touched her. Did she feel it? Or was it just wishful thinking? He looked back up at her and was stunned by what he saw. Lois' eyes were huge as she watched him.
Forcing himself to speak, Conner opened his mouth. "I should have introduced myself before now," he said softly. "After all, I did buy your son a puppy, and he really shouldn't accept gifts from strange men...." His words died off as he lost himself in her questioning gaze.
Lois' hand twitched and grasped the larger one holding hers. His voice! He sounded exactly like…
<<That's impossible, Lois. You're just missing him a lot today.>>
Conner had felt her hand tighten and his heart flipped in his chest. It was still there. All the feelings, the emotions, and the overwhelming desire he'd always felt for this woman… it was all still there.
He was about to force himself to speak again when the emcee announced it was time to start.
Lois jumped and pulled her hand from his. "I have to go, but I would be honored if you'd share our table."
"Thank you. I'd like that," Conner told her before looking back down at her son. The boy was staring at him with almost the same expression of puzzled surprise that had been on Lois' face. "You okay, buddy?"
"Ah, sure. Come on." The lad reached out and took his hand, pausing only for a second to glance back at his new friend before turning to drag him to the front.
Conner settled in a chair next to the boy, forcing his racing emotions to calm. He
could do this. He could.
"Hey you."
Conner's head jerked to the side when he heard another familiar voice. Martha was leaning to kiss the boy's cheek.
"Hi, Grandma. Yo, Grandpa." He smiled and gave Jonathan a high five.
<<Grandma? Grandpa?>>
Before Conner could roll that over twice, Lois was speaking from the podium.
"Welcome to the annual benefit for the Superman Foundation. It is the generous support from friends and admirers like yourselves which have kept alive the dream of a true hero.
"He's been gone from us for nearly ten years now, but what he left behind will last forever." She dropped her head and moved some papers around before looking back up at the crowd.
"It was my dream that he would someday return to us, to the world and the city he loved so dearly… But he sacrificed his life here for the sake of a friend. By leaving to uphold the integrity of Clark Kent, Superman proved beyond reason, that a real friend is one to be cherished."
She took another breath and smiled out at her son. "This year I chose this date for a reason. Today is April 18. It marks the ten year anniversary of the death of Clark Kent."
At the table Conner gasped. He remembered reading that date on Clark's tombstone.
"Many have said that Superman remaining gone even after Clark's death was pointless. However, to me it only proves the incredible devotion of the superhero who none of us ever truly knew.
"It was with great thought and vision that he chose to start the Superman Foundation. Although small at first and focused mainly on local children, his legacy has spread to include the world."
Lois smiled brightly and glanced toward her table again. "Tonight I'm pleased to present a very special speaker. He came to me a few weeks ago and asked if he could say a few words tonight. I was unsure if he was ready for this, but he was quick to remind me that it was time for him to publicly thank his hero for making such a sacrifice for his father."
Conner froze, stunned by her words. What had she just said?
"Ladies and gentlemen, this year's speaker is Clark Kent, Jr."
Breathe! Breathe dammit! Conner was seeing spots dancing before his eyes and his ears were ringing. Lois' son had risen from the table and was stepping up onto the podium. A man moved to put a stool in front of the microphone so he could reach it.
"Thank you," the boy started. "Thank you all for coming out and supporting the man and the giant." He grinned at his mother as she stepped off to the side.
Lois' glance shifted to the guest at their table and she wasn't totally shocked to see Conner staring with haunted eyes at Clark. The poor man appeared to be gasping for air. Was he okay?
"I never met my father," the younger Clark continued with pride. "He died before I was born, but I do feel that I know him. My mom has kept him alive through pictures and stories and long discussions at night. My grandparents still buy him a birthday present and a place is always set for him at the table on holidays. My daddy will always be part of our lives. Even if his body is never with us, his spirit will live on."
Lois' gaze was glued to the man at the table. His reaction was so strong; he was mesmerized by Clark's words; his right hand was clutching his leg, the tick in his jaw…
The what?! Lois unconsciously moved a step closer to the edge of the stage. Her eyes traced every detail of the face of the man sitting next to her surrogate parents. Suddenly she gasped. Aware Clark was still speaking, she covered her mouth and tried to force herself to concentrate on his speech.
"Before I say my bit about Superman, I'd like to thank my mom and grandparents for being the best in the world, and for keeping my daddy alive for me. In fact, I have to say a big thank you to my Grandpa Jon for helping me with my speech. I knew what I wanted to say, but sometimes I get tongue-tied...."
Time halted for Conner at those words -- he'd been the exact same way....
"So Grandpa was there for me.... He knows about these things." From his perch on the podium Clark Jr winked in the direction of his grandpa, and at the same time robbed Conner of the power to move. "Today, everyone sees Superman as a model for everything that is good and true in our society. We owe it to him to live up to those ideals and make the world a better place to live. But, for me, I just want to say thank you to him for the wonderful person he was inside. It was that person that made him go out and do all those brave things for the world. And most of all, it was that person who had the love to protect my daddy when he was wrongly accused of ridiculous crimes that he'd never committed."
Clark stopped and looked directly at Conner. "I'm sure that if he was still here, he would keep on fighting and holding on tightly to all those wonderful emotions that make me feel so good every time I think about him." Clark continued to stare at Conner even as the applause rose in the hall.
Conner was visibly shaking now. Tears welled in his eyes. He was right. The boy… Clark, he corrected himself was right. Those emotions were wonderful and he was feeling them all at this moment.
And it was too much. Conner shot to his feet, turned and nearly ran from the room. His abrupt exit caused everyone to watch and start to whisper.
Clark glanced at his mother, silently asking her if what he thought could possibly be true. She nodded as tears filled her eyes, then she glanced out at the Kents. They were confused by all the commotion, but remained seated, after all, they hadn't really seen Cla... this person. Lois wanted nothing more than to rush to tell them what she'd discovered, to run after this man who was calling himself Conner Devon and find out what was going on. However, the night's events were moving on and she had a job to do. She forced herself to concentrate and continue the benefit. Besides, she could imagine the shock he was feeling... she felt it too, and she knew they both needed time to process all they had just discovered.
Conner ran down the sidewalk as fast as he could. He shot into an alley and threw himself into the air. It was only when he hovered somewhere amongst the stars that he realized what he'd done. It had been so many years since he'd flown! He floated in the darkness as he heaved to catch his breath.
<<Too much! This is too much!!>>
He threw his head back in frustration and yelled out his pain.
A son. He had a son. No. Clark Kent had a son.
<<You *are* Clark Kent!!>>
"Not anymore," he yelled out at the stars. "I can't be him again."
<<You will always be him.>>
Conner dropped his head and sobbed miserably. What was he supposed to do? How could he handle this? He couldn't bring a man back from the dead. He couldn't inflict more pain on those who thought him so perfect. They were better off without him. They didn't need him. They'd be just fine.
<<But you need them!>>
"God, help me. I do," he said through fresh tears. He slowly dropped back into a dark section of the park and started toward his hotel. He was much too tired to pretend anymore. He did need those people. He needed Lois, his parents, and…
His son. His heart swelled with pride at the same time it lurched with guilty humiliation. He'd thought Lois had betrayed him, that she hadn't truly ever loved him. But she had. What they'd shared on those nights together so long ago had been real and wonderful. It also seemed it had been overflowing with their love. That love had created a perfect little person that he'd never known.
His thoughts drifted to the boy he never knew existed. Clark Kent, Jr. Lois had given their baby his name. She had never forgotten him. A piece of him remained here, constantly reminding her of the love they had shared. And it looked as if she couldn't be more proud of that little fellow.
Hell, he was proud of him and he didn't even know him. This sure explained why he felt such a connection to the child.
A smile touched Conner's lips as he pictured the youngster and warmth spread through his body. That boy was his son. *His* son. He'd made him with the woman he loved. How could he possibly deny that? He didn't even want to.
Conner walked past his hotel, needing to think more about the sudden, unexpected turn of events. For three long hours he aimlessly walked through the city streets. The air helped him to make some very tough decisions. When he felt he had a handle on his emotions and with a new resolve, he made his way back to his suite.
~^~^~^~^~^~^~
He slipped the security card into the metal box and waited for the beep to allow him entry. He pushed open the door and stopped dead in his tracks. Standing in the middle of the living area was Lois.
"I, ah, talked your assistant into letting me in. I'm sorry if I made the wrong choice," she told him.
"Uh, no, no. That's fine." Conner dropped the card on the table inside the entry and shut the door before stepping further into the room. He was confused as to why she was here. Had she figured out who he was? Her next sentence answered that question.
"I never thought I'd see you again," she said through helpless tears.
"Wh… what?"
"Don't try to deny it, Clark. I know who you are."
Clark could only stare at her. How did he ever think he could stay away from this woman? He should have known she'd recognise him. The passion they'd shared the short time they were together solidified the connection Clark had always felt for Lois. She'd even told him she felt that same connection to him. If she ever felt half as much for him as he did her, it was no surprise she'd figured out who he was. He lowered his head as tears of contrition threatened to spill over.
"Why?" she asked quietly. "Why all this deception?"
"To spare you from the man I've become," he said just as softly.
"Oh, Clark." She wanted so desperately to go to him, hold him, tell him it was all right. But it wasn't. So much had happened and so much time had passed. How could she understand all that he'd been through? And he'd lived through hell... that much was evident by the abject weariness that colored every fiber of his being. She wasn't sure if things would ever be all right again.
He lifted his eyes back to hers. "I tried to get out. I really did. After a while… it was just so much easier to pray to die."
"Do you think I don't know that? I knew if there had been anything you could do, you would have. I realised something went horribly wrong."
"It was all horribly wrong from the start," he reminded her.
"It was," she agreed. "I've spent a decade trying to bring whoever did that to you to justice."
"I know. I've read your articles…" He stopped to drink in the sight of her as he tried to find words to express what he was feeling.
"My beautiful, Clark," she whispered and took a step toward him.
He backed away. "Don't. I'm not that man anymore."
"I know you've changed. I see it in your eyes, but inside… deep inside, you're still that man." She had reached him and lifted her hand to lay it on his chest. "It feels so good to touch you," she gasped through tears.
"Lois," he breathed as he fought to keep his hands from moving to touch her. "So much has happened. I'm not him," he finished on a whisper.
"Sure you are," she told him. "I can see past the pain and anger. I see… warmth…" She lifted her other hand to rest on his chest, too. "And love…" Her eyes drifted to where her hands rested on his chest. "I see how sad you are, too." She lifted her eyes to meet his once again, willing him to let her in. "Won't you let me help you to be happy again?"
A sob escaped Clark's mouth and he lifted his hand to cover his mouth. He'd convinced himself that staying away from this woman was best. Yet, standing before her as she made an offer to help him heal was more than his emotionally spent heart could take. Still, he had to try one last time to convince himself… and Lois that he'd changed far too much to deserve to ever be happy again.
After a moment he was able to speak again. "You couldn't possibly want to do that," he told her, his gaze fixed on a spot on the floor. "I've become a bitter, vengeful man. Thoughts of hurting people overwhelm my mind. I've been angry with the monsters responsible for putting me in that prison. I've been angry with myself. I've even been angry with you…" His eyes slowly rose to meet hers. "… and my parents. I let myself believe that you all had abandoned me. Somehow it was easier to give into rage. It gave me the courage to survive... plotting my revenge gave me the strength to go on." He took a breath, shoved his hand through his hair, then turned to walk a few feet away from her. "I don't know how to be a decent man anymore. How could I possibly be anything to you?"
Lois' heart wrenched for him as she watched him struggle with his demons. It was plain to see that everything that had happened to Clark had taken its toll on him. At the same time, she could still see the man she'd known so long ago. "Clark…"
He interrupted her before she could say more. "I'm glad you were able to move on with your life," he told her softly. He had to say something to shift the direction of this conversation. His emotions were simply too raw to have this discussion with Lois and he needed time to sort out everything rolling around in his head.
"What?" But, before Clark could respond, she realized what he meant. "Clark, no. My life has revolved around my son and trying to bring his father's murderers to justice. The Superman Foundation and charities, Martha, Jonathan, Perry, and Jimmy… that's my life."
"But… I thought..." He caught only part of what she'd said, completely overlooking the fact that she'd mentioned their son. He sighed before moving on. "I had Edward do some checking. He told me you were… involved."
Lois smiled gently. "You mean Dan?"
Clark didn't answer, but he held his breath as he waited for her to tell him about her... friend.
"His name is Dan Scardino. He's a federal agent who was put in charge of your case about six years ago when the DEA got tired of me raising hell about not investigating your imprisonment. He wanted more, I didn't. So we became friends. He worked on your case off and on, although he had other cases. Then, about three years ago, he called me and told me he'd been approached by someone that wanted him to join the other team."
"The other team?"
"As in the people responsible for your death." Clark's brows rose. "He and I formed a plan to play both sides. The need arose for him to… 'keep a closer eye' on me, so we decided to let everyone believe Dan and I were living together off and on. He was able to convince the opposition that he was reporting my activities while being able to learn everything that was going on."
Lois had made her way over to him and lifted her hand to his arm. "Clark, our plan worked. We know who did all that to you."
"Lex Luthor," he told her sharply.
"You knew?"
"It wasn't hard to figure out," he said, pain evident in his voice. "And it wasn't like I was too busy to make that deduction." He knew he sounded a little harsh, but he just couldn't help himself. Lex Luthor had taken away his life and at times, it was really hard not to lash out.
"Yeah. I always suspected it." Lois withdrew her hand and started to pace the room. "When I got back from Port Stanley, I was desperate, so I asked Lex to use his connections to help me find out what had happened. But there was something about the way he acted that made me suspicious. Maybe it was just one of my silly hunches, but by the time of your memorial service I was convinced he knew more than he was telling me. And can you believe that bastard? He all but admitted it to me that day! He was there, at the cemetery. Said he came to offer me comfort. As if I would just fall into his arms because you were gone. We argued and he basically told me he'd set you up. Then the slime dared me to prove it!"
Lois turned away and stared out the window into the darkness, her hands twisting anxiously in her hair. "When I failed to be able to do that after a year or so, I resigned from the Planet and started writing novels. I had to find an outlet for my pain and writing about it helped. Later, the Superman Foundation became a way for me insure that your ideals lived on, and my quest went a long way toward tormenting Luthor." Lois dropped her hands and continued her trip around the room. "But I never stopped investigating. The director of every investigation agency in the world knows me on a first name basis, but I ran into wall after wall until Dan and I started working together. We almost have enough evidence to nail Luthor."
"For my arrest?"
Lois stopped and looked at Clark sadly. "No, but for about a dozen other murders and fraudulent deals... not to mention extortion. You name it, Lex has done it. That should be enough to ensure he'd never get out of prison to harm anyone ever again."
The part of Clark that had died inside that dungeon wanted to scream that wasn't good enough. He wanted to shout that prison was too good for the monster. But the part of him, deep inside, the real Clark that was starting to come alive again, won out. He gazed at Lois with compassionate eyes, allowing his mind to admit his feelings for this woman, even after everything that had happened.
"As long as he never harms you, I could die a happy man."
"I think you've been dead long enough," she told him feelingly. Again, she approached Clark, wanting nothing more than to reach out to him, hold him, and shout that she still loved him after all this time. "And there's someone else to consider now."
"I know," Clark croaked out. He'd wondered how long it would be before conversation shifted to their son.
<<When did he become *your* son?>> His conscience couldn't help but ask. From the moment he'd met that child, he'd been unable to control his feelings for him. When he'd only known he belonged to Lois, he hadn't been able to understand how he felt. But now… now he felt…
<<Like you're coming to life again.>>
"You have a son, Clark. We created a wonderful life during one of those three nights we spent together. He's been my saving grace." This time she did lift a hand to his chest. "He's wonderful and beautiful and so much like you," she told him as tears filled her eyes.
"Like I used to be, Lois," he reminded her, grasping her wrist with the intention of removing her hand from his chest. Instead, he could feel himself begin to tremble, and he continued to hold her against his body. "You have no idea what being locked away can do to a man. I've changed; become cold and resentful. How could I possibly be a father?"
"Because for all that's happened to you, I think you need him more than he needs you." Lois refused to let him slip away from her. She lifted her other hand to cup his cheek. He flinched momentarily before she persisted and made contact with his face for the first time. A soft smile danced across her lips as she watched his protective barriers begin to crumble behind his dark eyes.
Clark couldn't breathe. The feel of her hand on his skin was incredible. He involuntarily leaned into her touch, wanting to feel more comfort, more warmth. It had been so long since he'd felt like a man. One touch from her reminded him of just how wonderful that sensation had been. He was a fool to ever believe he could stay away from her. The mere thought of this woman had kept him alive all those years. It would be incredibly more painful to walk away from her now that he'd come this far.
And this wasn't far at all. They'd done nothing more than talk.
<<And already she's thrown you a lifeline in the form of her touch.>>
Clark closed his eyes to squeeze out the tears pooling behind his lids.
<<And she's given you *your* saving grace in the body of your son.>>
Another sob escaped his lips and that was all Lois could take. She pulled him forward in an embrace, offering the comfort he'd needed for so long.
Clark didn't even try to pull away. Hell, he didn't want to. His face was buried against her neck as more tears came unheeded. He didn't respond beyond crying at first, but slowly his hands lifted to grip her sides. After denying himself the benefit of a good cry for a very long time, Clark began to sob with abandon.
Lois held him, content to stay that way for as long as he needed. Her own tears made paths down her cheeks, but she remained silent. Her pain was nothing compared to what he must feel. Her hand smoothed over his back and through his hair. After a long while, he began to calm.
Finally Clark was able to whisper against her neck, "Lois Lane kept me alive."
Lois chocked back her own sob and held the back of his head firmly. "And Clark Kent kept me alive," she told him as she eased back to look at him. "Both of you."
Clark could only stare at her. She was truly amazing. In the span of just a few minutes, she'd destroyed all of his emotional barriers that he'd so carefully erected to protect not only himself, but her as well. As if it had a mind of its own, Clark's hand lifted to her face. "How could I have possibly believed I could live without you?" For the first time in so very long, Clark's tortured mind began to settle. He needed this woman. To him, she was the air he needed to breathe. It wouldn't do any good to deny that or argue otherwise. But his son was a different story. He wasn't at all sure how he was supposed to feel about him.
His hand slowly lowered back to his side and he stepped away from Lois. "How do I just…" He stopped and waved his hand in the air. "… come back again? How do I become someone's father when I'm not even sure I can be a someone again?"
"Do you want to come back?" Lois asked bluntly.
Clark met her gaze, drinking in the deep emotions he saw there. Lois always did cut straight to the chase. Did he want to come back? Did he want to be Clark Kent again? Better yet, could he?
Lois closed the distance between them once again. Only this time she stopped a foot or so away and folded her arms over her chest. "Clark, it seems to me you made a tremendous leap on the road to healing tonight."
He sighed and dropped his head to study his hands. "So much has happened," he whispered.
"So much *will* happen," she reminded him. "You can't expect me to just walk away now that I know you're alive. And I refuse to keep quiet about you to your son. He knows you're alive."
Clark's head snapped up so he could look at Lois again.
"Clark, I've never lied to Clark Jr. about what happened to you. He was introduced to you on day one and has continued to be acquainted with you… as if you'd been there all along. I've told him everything I know about you and so have your parents, including the fact that you were Superman. And tonight, when you jumped up the way you did... I think he had already started to feel a connection to you, but you gave it away when you ran from the room. He's a really smart kid. He knows who you are and that you're alive, and he wants to meet you. Whether you choose to be in his life, you will always be *part* of his life."
His eyes stayed glued to hers for another few seconds before he turned to walk to the large window. He stared out into the night sky, his raging emotions coursing through his entire body. He wasn't sure what Lois expected of him now. Did she want him to just step back into a relationship with her as if nothing had ever happened? As if he hadn't been gone at all? Did she expect him to care for Clark like he'd been there from day one? And how would the boy view all this? He sighed and spoke tiredly.
"What do expect from me, Lois?"
She came to his side, choosing to gaze out the window with him. "Well, I expect you to meet Clark, as yourself, not Conner Devon."
"Then what?" He faced her slowly. "Am I supposed to take him every other Friday for the weekend? Or are you expecting me to just waltz back into your home like I've always been there? Should I coach Little League? Help with homework? Should I…"
Lois placed gentle fingers over his lips to stop his questions. "Clark, I don't know! This is new territory for me too. Why don't you just meet him? We can take everything else from there."
Clark let out a long breath before turning back to look out the window again. When he didn't answer right away, Lois became a little worried for her son. He'd dreamed of nothing more than being able to know his father in life as he knew him in spirit. It would devastate the boy to have to walk away without even meeting the man.
"Clark, do you want to meet him?"
He turned his head to face Lois, tears starting to gather in his eyes again. "Yes," he whispered.
This time Lois shared his agony as tears pooled behind her lids. She lifted her hand to his arm and was about to speak, but whatever she was going to say was interrupted by another voice.
"Mom?"
Clark's head jerked in the direction of his bedroom. The young Clark was standing there looking at them, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
Lois glanced back at the boy before turning a smile up to Clark. "He wanted to come with me. I guess I should have told you he was asleep in your room."
Clark hadn't taken his eyes off the boy. The young Clark was watching him with wide, hopeful eyes. When Lois finished speaking, the boy started toward the couple.
"You're my dream come true," Clark told his father. "You're like Christmas and every birthday I'll ever have all wrapped into one." His large brown eyes were filled with so much hope.
Clark started to tremble again. Somewhere during his walk earlier he had decided that he wanted to know this child, his child. That wasn't too much to ask. After ten years of constant suffering he had every right to ask for that.
The large man turned fully toward the small boy he felt so many mixed emotions about. He kneeled before him, barely able to control himself.
"I think you're a wonderful gift, too," Clark told him.
Clark Jr. took another step. "Mom's always told me everything about you."
Clark's eyes filled with tears. "I'm not that man…"
Young Clark had to strain to hear his father's words of defeat. His mother had told him about this man being wrongly accused of drug charges and murder and being taken away so suddenly. She had told him that they were informed Clark had been executed for his crimes. Now it appeared that was wrong. His dad had been locked away somewhere, unable to escape and come home. He might only be a little kid, but even he knew whatever had happened to his father was horrible, but he wanted desperately to just be able to get to know him. He'd listened to the stories of how being Superman had made his father take so much guilt onto himself when he was unable to save someone. If he'd been trapped, it had to be without his powers. That would mean lots of guilt. And he was smart enough to know that the guilt was stacked on top of a lot of hurt.
Clark Jr. slowly allowed his lips to spread into a smile, hoping to ease some of his father's pain. "How about me being your friend? Everybody needs a friend." He smiled even brighter, showing the pearly white teeth that matched his father's perfectly.
Clark could only look at the boy. He had large brown eyes, filled with so much of the same compassion he'd once possessed himself. The words the boy had spoken were something he would have said at the same age. Slowly, tentatively, Clark's hand lifted to the small cheek before him. "I think I'd like that."
Young Clark almost beamed now. His daddy was here with him, had told him he would like to be his friend.
Clark finally allowed himself to smile, the first one to touch his eyes in over ten years. Slowly he lowered his hand back to his side before glancing up at Lois. "What do you say we order room service? I'm a little hungry." He pressed a finger to Clark Jr.'s nose briefly. "And we could talk a while." Unsure if he'd taken liberties he shouldn't have, he met Lois' gaze again. "If you'll allow me, that is."
"Oh, Clark. You don't have to worry about me minding that you spend time with your son."
"It's getting late…"
"Clark, you just met your son… your nine year old son. It's not too late."
Clark smiled at her before looking back at Clark. "You agree?"
"I learned a long time ago that it's wise to *always* agree with Lois Lane."
Clark's hearty bellow bounced around the room. Lois and Clark Jr. could only watch. To hear him laugh was an added bonus to getting him back. Slowly they started to laugh with him. When they'd all calmed, Clark stood and went to dial the number for room service.
"Do you want something special to eat or drink?" he asked the boy before him. Lois had moved over to stand next to the lad and Clark couldn't help but inwardly smile at the picture they created. The woman he'd loved with his very being and *his* son were standing, together, in his living area. It was truly a beautiful picture.
"Could I have chocolate milk?"
"You can have anything you want." He finished dialing the number for room service and quickly put in an order for a buffet supper with lots of junk food and plenty of chocolate milk. Remembering Lois was once a chocolate fanatic, he ordered chocolate cake and coffee.
"There," he said when he replaced the receiver. "It'll be here in ten minutes."
"Room service in ten minutes? You must be a huge deal," Lois commented off handedly.
"It helps to have a billion or so dollars," Clark told her with a grin.
"How did you get all this money?" she asked.
"Long story. Do you mind if we postpone that conversation until tomorrow maybe?"
"I did it again. I'm sorry."
"No. It's okay. I know you have a lot of questions and…" He looked back down at Clark standing patiently by her side. "I think I need to answer them. Not just for you, but for me as well. And I will. Just not right now." He flashed another brief smile before he moved toward the table. "Please, come sit," he told his guests.
Clark Jr. was first to move toward the man he hoped to get to know better. Clark may be his father, but he was just as much a stranger as the next guy on the street. He seated himself in a chair that would allow him to see both his parents, needing the reassurance of keeping his mom in sight as well. The adults settled across from one another and there was a stiff silence before Clark cleared his throat and spoke.
"So… tell me when you were born," Clark asked his son.
"December 16 at 4 a.m. I weighed only six pounds and was eighteen inches long."
"You were small."
"Grandpa said I was scrappy."
Clark laughed at him. "Don't worry about it, he said the same thing about me when I was a baby! But I bet your grandma was real proud." He glanced over at Lois, who was smiling at the unfolding scene before her. "I'm glad you had help."
"Your parents made arrangements to move to Metropolis within weeks of finding out I would give birth. They didn't want to miss anything." Lois gave him a sympathetic smile; he'd missed so much.
Young Clark saw the shadow pass over his father's face when his mother said that. He guessed he was reminded of how much he'd missed, too. "Hey, guess what?"
"What?"
"Grandpa takes me fishin'."
"Does he?"
"Yep. He taught me how to fish and I caught my first one on a trip to Smallville when I was four. It was great. It was a huge bass. I caught it in the pond on the back side of the farm."
"I caught my first fish in that same pond."
"I know. Grandpa told me. He said you also fell in."
Clark chuckled softly. "I did and got an awful cold. That was the last time I was sick."
"I've never been sick."
"Really? Are you… special?" Clark had briefly wondered if Clark Jr. had inherited any of his powers. He's started to develop the first of his at about this same age.
"Some. I can see really well and hear things I shouldn't." He grinned over at his mother. "I have a photographic memory. I was three years ahead of my class at school… every school for that matter. So Mom took me out and teaches me at home to keep me from getting bored."
"I would think you'd be more bored at home."
"There's tons of things to do at Port Royal. I've helped in nearly every office there. I'm a big brother," he announced proudly.
"Excuse me?"
"Big brother. You know, Big Brothers and Big Sisters of America."
"Oh. I didn't know they let such young men do that."
"Usually they don't, but I got pull," he said with a wink. Clark smiled at him. "His name is Tony. He lives in one of the low-income apartments on the twentieth floor. He turns four next week." Clark Jr. sat up straighter and smiled brightly. "Hey, you'll be able to meet him. Will you come to the party?"
"Is that what you want?"
"Sure, I do. 'Sides, friends do things together," he pointed out. He was sure if he didn't keep doing that, his dad would slip back into the sad mood he'd been in earlier and the few times he'd seen him before. Tonight he'd managed to make this larger than life man smile -- a real smile, which had brought a twinkle to his eyes. He'd much rather see that sparkle than the dull expression that had been there previously.
Clark had to drop his gaze to the table for a moment. It appeared his son was as much like Lois as he could get. Reminding him of them becoming friends was something she'd definitely do. Finally he looked back up at the boy. "You're right. Friends do things together all the time."
Clark Jr. smiled up at his father, receiving a smile in return.
Lois had watched the entire exchange in silence. This was a moment she never imagined she'd see. Through all the long years, she'd prayed things could have been different. And she'd always ached for Clark, dying without ever knowing his son existed. She'd kept the man alive for her son. Not a day had ever gone by that he was not mentioned in their home. The younger Clark had prayed every night, from the time he was old enough to speak, that his father was taken care of. Clark had been part of his son's life in every way he could have been but the most important one.
Now it seemed that could change. Though she wanted nothing more in her whole being, she was also scared to death. Clark himself had warned her that he had a long way to go to come back home. Could she and Clark Jr. and his folks be the support he needed to heal? It certainly appeared the process had begun. Father and son were smiling at each other. And she could feel the admiration pass between them. She was almost certain that one small touch from the boy would tumble the rest of Clark's defenses.
Clark let his gaze roam over his child's body. "I guess you take after your mother. You're a tiny thing."
"Mom says dynamite comes in small packages," Clark Jr. told him proudly.
Clark grinned as he looked back into his son's eyes. Slowly the grin spread into soft laughter. He glanced around at Lois before looking back at Clark. "At one time, your mother came with a warning label."
Clark Jr. stared at his father a moment before he fell into a hearty roar of laughter. It was catching because Clark, too, started to laugh in full. As he laughed he could feel the pain, the hate, the years of misery start to ease from his body. He didn't begin to fool himself into believing that one good laugh could heal so many wounds, but it felt good to have a start. He had to wipe his eyes, as tears from laughing so hard, were slipping from the corners. He was finally able to gain control of himself and looked down at Clark Jr.
"There was a time that if you laughed at your mother like that, she'd give you an ear full."
"I know. Uncle Jimmy says she was named 'Mad Dog' because she took no prisoners."
"I haven't been 'Mad Dog' in a long time," she was quick to point out to her son.
Young Clark looked around at his mom. "I know, Mom." He offered her a smile before turning back to Clark. He was about to speak, when the bell rang.
"Must be room service," Clark told them as he rose to answer the door. A few moments later, they were sharing their bounty along with more small talk, allowing father and son to get to know one another.
~^~^~^~^~^~^~
With great reluctance, Clark walked Lois and Clark Jr. to the elevator. They'd talked for nearly three hours and it would soon be dawn. Though he wanted nothing more than to have them stay and continue to talk with him, he'd seen little Clark yawn several times as he fought desperately to stay awake with his dad. The boy had protested mildly when his father suggested they go home to get some sleep. But Lois quickly reminded him that maybe his dad was tired as well. That seemed to do the trick and Clark Jr. rose to gather his jacket to go home.
The trio paused as they waited for the elevator. "Will I see you tomorrow?" Clark Jr. asked his dad.
"Absolutely," he assured the boy. "I just want you to remember that there's a lot to this whole situation…"
"I know." He glanced at the large hand just a short distance from him. He wanted so badly to reach out and take that hand, offer his father his comfort. At the same time, he was still incredibly nervous. For as much as he felt he knew this man, the fact was that he was still a virtual stranger. And his dad was unsure of himself and how he felt. He'd give his dad the time he needed. Clark Jr swallowed hard. Even saying that word inside his head was kinda scary. Maybe he also needed time to come to terms with this new developement. It wasn't every day your dad came back from the dead!
Clark smiled at his son. He was a smart boy; Lois had done well with him, especially with all she had to deal with. He finally looked back at Lois. "I'd, ah, I'd appreciate your confidence."
"I don't intend to lie to your parents."
"I know." He looked down, worrying with his hands for a moment. "I'll, um, I'll…" Clark sighed heavily. "I'll try to pull myself together enough to see them soon."
"Clark, it was never my intention to come here and demand you do anything you're not prepared to do." She hoped he'd understand that statement. Lois knew he had a lot to deal with and couldn't be expected to do it all at once. "I just can't pretend you're not alive or that you're someone else."
"I know," he admitted softly. "I just need time to organize my thoughts."
"I think we all do," she answered just as softly. The elevator dinged, announcing the arrival of the car.
Clark watched as the doors opened, then looked back at Lois. "I'll call you."
"Good." She offered him a smile and stepped into the waiting elevator her son held open.
"See ya', pal," Clark told his son.
"See ya'," the boy offered without much enthusiasm. He reluctantly stepped back to let the doors close. Just before they came between him and his father, he yelled, "Don't wait long to call!"
Clark grinned at him "I won't," he shouted, hoping the boy had heard him. He shoved his hands into his pockets as he stared at the closed doors. "Son," he whispered as an afterthought a few seconds later.
tbc...
