Title: Terms of Endearment (2/?)
Author: angelic_editor
Rating: PG for mild language
Summary: This is a sequel to "Terms of Estrangement," which can be found
here . It's probably best if you read "Terms of Estrangement" first, as this takes place directly after the events depicted. Now, Clark and Lois deal with the repercussions of his revelation.
Feedback: Better than chocolate, especially since I'm so new at this. Be brutal; I welcome comments and criticism of all kinds.
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine; the words are. Please don't take legal action, as poor college students aren't worth suing, anyway.
Miscellaneous: What started out as a short vignette has turned into a multi-part story, thanks to the amazing feedback from readers! At first I was worried I couldn't do justice to the story I wanted to tell, but you've all been so wonderful and supportive that I find I can't stop writing! It's not always as fast as I'd like, but it's still evolving nonetheless. Seriously, guys, I can't thank you enough for your kind words of encouragement; I hope you enjoy.
Prequel - Part One Prequel - Part Two Part One ---------------------------------------
I fear I have nothing to give
And I have so much to lose here in this lonely place
Tangled up in our embrace, there’s nothing I’d like better than to fall
But I fear I have nothing to give
— “Fear,” Sarah McLachlanHe knew.
Tugging at his tie, spinning into the Suit, desperate to respond to the cries for help — running from Lois,
again — he knew.
You’re going to mess this up.
It didn’t matter that she knew his secret. That she’d actually understood the true reason he’d rushed off this time, or that she’d even offered a plausible excuse so he didn’t have to voice another barely feasible lie.
None of it mattered, because Clark was convinced he was going to destroy any chance he might have with Lois. He was perpetually playing a blitzkrieg game of catch-up among his personal, professional and alter ego’s responsibilities.
He vaulted into the sky, flying hard toward the panicked screams reverberating in his ears, self-doubt ricocheting around his every thought.
With Lois, he could never seem to find the right words at the right time. He felt like a constant disappointment; such a sharp, hollow contrast to the perfect man she believed him — or Superman, anyway — to be.
He loved her. Of that, there was no question. But he had no idea how to save either of them from heartbreak.
Some Superman I am, he thought darkly, speeding toward a hysterical woman kneeling on the sidewalk.
I can protect Lois from everything but myself.
He landed hard and fast, assuming his role as the hero as soon as his red boots hit the pavement.
“Ma’am?”
The woman looked up, the anguish in her tear-filled green eyes pinning him in place, and Clark’s next words lodged in his throat.
Please, no.
She was cradling an unconscious boy in her arms — no more than five or six years old, from the look of his small frame. Blood gushed freely from his nose, pouring down his chin and soaking into his white T-shirt. Two shopping bags were strewn next to them, forgotten.
“I — Superman — oh, thank God!” She brought a trembling, bloodstained hand to her mouth, struggling to control her emotions. “I didn’t know what else to do — we were just shopping, and Adam was walking along, holding my h-hand, and he fell, he
fell — but now — ” She broke off, sobbing too hard to continue.
Don’t react. Just act.
Clark crouched beside her and gently placed a hand over hers.
“Let me help,” he said, his dark eyes searching her terrified gaze, communicating trust. “I’ll get him to the hospital as fast as I can, and come right back for you.”
She could only nod.
Clark carefully gathered the child into his arms and within seconds, he was hurtling toward Metropolis General.
Hold on, little guy — we’re almost there.
* * * * *
“Superman!”
Clark started as the unexpected voice rang down the sterile corridor outside the hospital’s emergency room.
He turned.
“Lois?”
What’re you doing here?She was walking toward him, Jimmy only a few steps behind.
“What happened?”
She had her notepad ready, pen poised to take down his answer. Her dark eyes darted from his face to the dark splotches of dried blood near his shoulder, just above the edge of the red and yellow “S” emblem on his chest.
Clark crossed his arms and concentrated on keeping his expression blank.
It was more of a struggle than ever, keeping his features studiously neutral, knowing that the flashy Suit and lack of glasses were no longer a buffer.
He’d never felt so exposed in the presence of anyone before, even Jason Trask, on both a physical and mental level. For the first time in almost a year, he was hyperaware of just how tight the Suit was, how it outlined every line and curve of his body. How Lois would never look at him in khakis and a button-down shirt in quite the same way again.
The irrational part of his brain half-expected her to laugh at him at any moment, to ask what on earth he, Clark, mild-mannered reporter extraordinaire, thought he was doing here, playing hero in skintight blue spandex and a cape.
At that moment, he almost felt like a caricature of himself. A wholly inadequate imposter.
But Lois wasn’t laughing — she was waiting for an answer.
Focus. Like it or not, you are
the hero right now, not the man.
“I — ” He swallowed, his mouth suddenly as dry as the blood caked onto his Suit.
You’ve got to do better than that.
His eyes cut to Jimmy, and he gave the younger man a short nod of acknowledgement.
He cleared his throat and met Lois’ unreadable gaze. There was so much in her brown eyes — questions, concern, sympathy …
Love?Clark exhaled sharply.
Focus.
“A boy had a seizure,” he managed, forcing an even tone.
Don’t think about it. Don’t think about the blood, or how helpless the kid looked. Or the mother’s panic. Don’t. Remember.
Lois opened her mouth, but Clark interjected.
“He’s stable now, and should make a full recovery.” He saw Lois’ shoulders relax almost imperceptibly. “The doctor said it appears to be an anomaly — there’s no history of epilepsy in the family, so they’re not sure what caused it,” Clark continued. “We can just hope it’s an isolated incident.”
Lois nodded, scribbling furiously in her own version of shorthand. She looked back up at Clark.
“And the mother … ?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
“She’s with her son now,” Clark replied. “They’re moving him to a private room and keeping him overnight for observation.”
Lois processed this information and voiced her next question without missing a beat.
“Do you think there’s any way — ” she began, stepping closer.
No, he longed to cut in, already knowing what would come next.
You need to leave this poor woman alone. Respect her privacy and give her some time with her son.
But he didn’t. This unrelenting drive was what made Lois Lane the best investigative journalist in Metropolis. Yet right now, it made his stomach clench in something scarily akin to revulsion.
“ … we could talk with her?” Lois finished. “Just for two minutes?”
Jimmy nodded at Lois’ words, his hopeful eyes trained on Clark.
“Yeah, Superman — you think that’d be okay? We won’t take long.”
No.
Clark didn’t know why he was suddenly so hostile. He was a reporter himself — he knew the lengths it sometimes took to get the truly great stories that hit readers like a kick in the ribs.
But seeing Adam sprawled on the sidewalk, his terrified mother cradling the boy in her arms and covered in his blood had sliced through Clark’s defenses. He tried to switch his brain to autopilot during rescues, dutifully removing his emotions from the situation to take whatever action was necessary as fast as possible.
That almost made most situations easier, somehow.
Today, though, the horror, the fear and the undeniable love he’d witnessed in a scant few seconds had shaken him with its naked intensity. Now, he felt almost protective of this woman and her son; these questions felt so obtrusive. So wrong.
Lois watched him carefully.
“Superman?” she asked tentatively, placing a hand on his forearm.
Clark set his jaw against the dull ache in his chest and met Lois’ gaze.
Don’t emotionally invest in this. Just don’t.
“It’s not really my decision to make,” he said quietly after a moment, gently removing Lois’ hand.
He saw the hurt flash across her features — only for a nanosecond, to Lois’ credit — and immediately knew he’d made a mistake.
Again, he thought sadly.
I’m messing this up again.
“You’ll — you’ll have to speak with her yourselves,” he said, his eyes fixed on Jimmy’s earnest expression. He couldn’t look at Lois now. He’d see too many questions he couldn’t answer, and certainly not in front of Jimmy. If he looked at her, what was left of his resolve would disintegrate, and Clark’s carefully crafted façade would crumble around his caped shoulders.
Just go, before you do even more damage.
“And now, if you’ll excuse me … ”
He walked away, inwardly cursing himself as he strode down the corridor.
* * * * *
Wait. Please, wait.
Lois swallowed back the plea and watched Clark’s retreating figure, struggling to reconcile Superman’s unexpectedly curt, distant demeanor with her partner’s intrinsically kind, considerate nature.
I’m not going to blow this for you, she ached to reassure him.
I know how big this is — I’m not going to call you “Clark” in the middle of a Superman interview.
Still, it had been decidedly strange to see Clark — not Superman — in the Suit for the first time. Now that she knew, he was so obviously … Clark.
How could I have ever been so blind, so stu —“Lois?”
Jimmy’s voice broke through her thoughts.
“Sorry, Jimmy. I was just — thinking.” She turned to face the photographer. “What were you saying?”
“Let’s go find this lady, see if she’ll talk to us.”
Lois nodded. “Come on.”
And don’t worry about Clark, she told herself tersely, ignoring the knot of anxiety coiled in the pit of her stomach.
Think about him later, when the story’s done.
* * * * *
Hours later, Clark wearily let himself into his apartment, closing the door quietly behind him.
He stood in the semi-darkness for a long minute, then loosened his tie and rubbed at the back of his neck.
Just call her.
His eyes darted to the cordless phone lying on the coffee table. It should be a relatively simple task; he just had to pick up the handset and punch in Lois’ number. After two more rescues and changing back into his regular clothes, he’d walked aimlessly for a half-hour, subconsciously avoiding this very decision.
And you’re still standing here. Why?Clark sighed.
He didn’t know.
He was angry with himself, at his inexplicable trepidation.
You’re afraid, his brain mocked.
Paralyzed. And you’re supposed to have dinner together, you idiot.
Clark tensed his jaw and checked his watch.
Just past six — maybe ...Before he could change his mind, he rushed to the coffee table at super-speed and picked up the phone. He dialed the familiar sequence of numbers and willed his heart rate to slow down.
Don’t blow it.
The first ring buzzed in his ear.
Clark froze, gripping the receiver so hard he heard it creak in protest. All coherent thought had left him — he couldn’t remember what he was supposed to say, what he was supposed to do.
Two rings.
He gritted his teeth.
Just find the right words, for once.
Three rings.
He licked his lips nervously.
Four rings.
“Hi — ”
His heart leapt.
“Lois — ”
“… you’ve reached the desk of Lois Lane at The Daily Planet. I’m currently unavailable to take your call, but please leave your name and number with a short message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
Damn.
He pressed “end” and tossed the phone onto the couch, watching it bounce against the cushion, doing his best to ignore the crushing, invisible wave of disappointment that washed over him.
He raked an agitated hand through his hair, seemingly at a loss.
You have to fix this. Tonight.
He set his jaw and abruptly spun into the Suit. He was out his window and airborne in seconds, rocketing toward Lois’ apartment.
Be there, please. I need you, Lois — and it’s time I told you that.
