From Part 1:
Clark stood and pulled his hands away. "Don't you see? I thought I could be like other people. I thought that I could have a separate, private life. But I can't. While we were *enjoying* ourselves on your couch Monica was being beaten to death, and I never heard her. I never heard her at all." Clark reached out and stroked Lois' cheek in that so familiar way. "I'm sorry, Lois. I do love you, but I can't afford the price. It's just too high."
Clark dropped his hand and swiftly moved to the room's door. He turned back and gave Lois one last look, then left.
Lois was stunned. She unconsciously sat in one of the chairs as she stared at the door Clark had just exited from. Her mind was churning furiously as it tried to sort out everything that had just happened in front of her. Suddenly, the dice stopped tumbling, and the wheels stopped spinning. It was like the puzzle which had eluded you for so long because there was that one piece missing. Once you had that piece, once you had that clue, it all fell into place. The running off under lame excuses just before Superman was needed somewhere. The mysterious exclusives that he always managed to get by just happening to bump into Superman. It was so simple, so obvious.
"Omigod," Lois whispered as she stood, tears coming to her eyes. Clark was... Superman.
*********
Now read on:
Dead.
Monica was dead because of him. Because he’d been selfish.
The refrain beat over and over inside his head as he ran up to the roof, spun into his costume and flew down to the dumpster. The crime scene.
He’d been selfish. He wanted a life. Wanted romance. Wanted Lois. And because of that Monica was dead.
The dumpster was cordoned off with police tape. A van bearing the marking of the forensic department was parked nearby, along with two black-and-whites. A couple of uniformed officers stood guard as a man and a woman, dressed in overalls, masks and gloves, as well as protective shoe-coverings, examined the blood-spattered dumpster in minute detail.
“Superman!” One of the officers had seen him as he landed. “Pity you weren’t here last night. Girl that died in there could’ve used your help.”
“I know.” His voice was tight. “And I’m sorry. I never heard her screaming.”
The officer shrugged. “Guess you can’t hear everyone.”
That was true. He didn’t hear everyone. There were always cries for help he didn’t hear. Though that didn’t exonerate him. He’d still vowed that he was going nowhere last night. Had sworn that Lois would get his undivided attention. That he wouldn’t leave her for *anything*.
He was still guilty. He’d still left her to die.
He floated up and drifted over to the dumpster. The two forensic officers had paused their work to look at him. “Anything I can do to help?” he asked, hoping that maybe there was something, some little way, in which he could atone for his neglect.
“Nothing, thanks, Superman. No offence, but we can’t risk getting evidence contaminated.”
He sighed inwardly. Of course. “Okay. Good luck.”
There was blood everywhere. In the dumpster, in the collection of bags of evidence lying to the side, on the forensic officers’ overalls.
He saw that blood all the way home. The Metropolis skyline was tinged with crimson. His suit had more red than usual. He closed his eyes and saw red.
And, as he pushed open the door leading into his apartment, he saw it on his skin. Blood on his hands.
********
Clark was Superman.
That explained such a lot. It explained everything, in fact.
So many times when he’d run out on her. All those lame excuses. All those times when he’d known something he shouldn’t have. Everything.
He should have told her. Instead, he’d lied to her. Left her wondering what was the matter with her. What she was missing, what was wrong with her that she couldn’t hold his attention. Why he kept running off on her.
He’d been lying to her for almost two years.
She should be angry. The anger was there, just out of reach, tempting her to grab at it, to seize the fury and the rage and throw it all at him. He deserved it. He deserved to have her yell at him, scream at him, tear him limb from limb, and then kill him for good measure.
At the very least, he deserved to have her never speak to him again.
Except...
Except for the way he’d looked when he’d run out on her this time.
He blamed himself for Monica’s death. Because he’d been with her at the time. Because he’d wanted to spend time with her, just like a normal guy would with his girlfriend.
Because she’d insisted that if he ran out on her again she’d...
Yeah. She’d made last night the final test. Either he stayed with her the entire evening, convinced her that he really wanted to be with her, or that would be it. Finito. End of any chance of a relationship between them.
She buried her face in her hands. If Clark thought Monica’s death was his fault because he’d resolved to focus all his attention on her, then it was her fault, too. Because she’d insisted. She’d given him the ultimatum. What choice had he had?
*God*.
A shuddering sigh escaped her, and she jumped to her feet, beginning to pace.
That was stupid. It *wasn’t* his fault. It wasn’t hers, either. They weren’t the ones who mugged Monica. They weren’t the ones who beat her to death. Yes, Clark could have helped if he’d heard her screaming for help. Why hadn’t he heard her? Did he have some sort of ‘off’ switch for his super-hearing?
It *wasn’t* his fault. She had to convince him of that. That was one thing of which she was very sure.
And, as she turned on her heel to do a return pace of the room, she even knew what argument to use - not only to convince him that it wasn’t his fault, but that he didn’t have to give up any hope of having a normal life. Of having a relationship with her.
But, first, she wanted some more information. And she knew exactly where she was going to get it.
********
Half an hour later, Lois walked into a downtown precinct and demanded to see Inspector Henderson.
“Got an appointment?” the duty sergeant asked, sounding bored.
“Just tell him it’s Lois Lane.” Her gaze, and her crisp tone, told him not to waste any time about it, either.
With a double-take, the sergeant disappeared. Seconds later, a familiar drawl came from a point behind her. “You gotta quit bullying my officers, Lane.”
“I will as soon as you hire some who’ve got more intelligence than a goldfish,” she retorted.
He stifled a smirk. “What have you come to pester me about?”
“I want some information.
“About...?”
“Monica Pearson.”
Henderson rolled his eyes. “We’ve put out all the information that’s available to the press. As soon as there’s something new to say, you’ll hear about it the same time as everyone else.”
“This isn’t for publication, Bill.” She stepped closer and lowered her voice. “I’m asking for personal reasons, okay?”
His eyes narrowed. “You better come through.” He escorted her through to his office, offered her a seat and then perched on the edge of his desk. “What’s this about? What personal reasons?”
“This is confidential, right?” She fixed him with a hard, determined stare.
He shrugged. “Are you even here?” And he actually winked.
“Okay. This is what I need to know...” And she reeled off several questions.
He just listened, his face expressionless. Then, when she’d finished, he said, “If I’m going to answer those, you need to give me a reason.”
“I told you. Personal.”
“Not good enough, Lane.”
“Okay.” She hesitated. This was breaking a confidence, but it was important. If she was going to help Clark, she needed the information Henderson had. “I spoke to Superman earlier. He says he never heard Monica calling for help. And he’s pretty upset about it - he blames himself that she’s dead.”
“I see.” Bill nodded slowly. “Y’know, this is one of the reasons I keep warning the Mayor against cutting back policing budgets. Because, even though Superman does his best, he’s not one hundred per cent effective. He just won’t be there to save everyone every time. Just like last night.”
She nodded, and her heart began to sink a little. Was Bill not going to be able to give her anything that would help?
But then he straightened, met her gaze and said, “Okay. Just listen, Lane. No notebook. No tape recorder. And I’ll deny this conversation ever happened.”
She nodded. “Deal.”
*********
Clark used the remote-control to flick from channel to channel. There was nothing on television to hold his attention. Sports game. Reality show. Gardening show. Soap opera. Game show. Game show. Travel show. Old movie. Soap opera. Another game show. Another old movie. Another soap opera. News programme...
“...and there’s still no break-through in the Monica Pearson murder case. Police are tight-lipped about progress into the investigation of the young woman found beaten to death...”
He changed the channel. A quiz show filled the screen. He ignored it.
Monica. Dead. Blood everywhere. His fault.
He should have heard her. He should have been there. He should have saved her.
His fault.
What made him ever think he could have a normal life? A girlfriend?
He didn’t have a right to that kind of a life. He was Superman. He had a responsibility to Metropolis. To the world, in fact. He should have been there. He should have saved -
A loud knock sounded at the door. Several loud knocks.
He was tempted to ignore it. But he knew he couldn’t. Because he knew who would be there.
Lois. He’d been expecting her for a couple of hours, actually. Because he’d run out on her, and because he’d left her with a bombshell before doing it.
She’d have worked out by now that he was Superman. And she’d be ready to yell at him. Probably try to tear strips off his invulnerable hide. Actually, if she still had that Kryptonite bullet she’d dug out of him all those months ago...
He dragged himself to his feet and went to the door. It was Lois. He stood back to let her come in.
To his surprise, she walked straight up to him and wrapped her arms around him. “Oh, Clark. I’m so sorry.”
Reflexively, he held her. “Sorry? For what?”
She shrugged. “For whatever it is I did to stop you telling me the truth about yourself.”
He frowned, pulling back from her. “What?”
“Well, it had to be something. Otherwise you’d have told me long ago. Wouldn’t you? I mean, we’re best friends. And you love me. I know you do. Just like I love you. So why wouldn’t you have told me? I spent quite a while trying to work that out. And the only thing I can come up with is that I did something to stop you.”
She paused for breath, then continued before he could even think of what to say in return. “I think I can guess, actually. I mean, you even asked me about it last night. My Superman crush, right?”
He pulled a face. “Yeah. I guess.” Why was she talking about this? It wasn’t important. He wasn’t important. The only thing that mattered was that he’d let an innocent woman die.
“I wish you’d felt you could tell me sooner,” she said, her face creased in concern. “Because I feel like Monica’s death was all my fault.”
“What?” He stared at her.
“Well, it is. I’m the one who insisted that you had to spend all evening with me. I told you it was your last chance. I swore that if you ran out on me again I’d never agree to go out with you again. What choice did you have?”
He frowned. “There’s always a choice, Lois. I made it. It was my decision.”
“Yeah, but you shouldn’t have had to make it.” She reached for his hands, holding them in hers. “If you’d felt able to tell me that you were Superman, you’d never have had to make that decision last night. Because you’d have been able to tell me you had to leave, and I’d have known why. I’d never have given you that ultimatum about running off, either, because I’d have known why you had to run off. So it’s my fault, Clark, not yours. Because I made it impossible for you to tell me about Superman. It’s my fault she died.”
He stared at her in disbelief. How could she possibly think that?
Her fault? Of course it wasn’t.
He was the one who hadn’t told her about Superman. He was the one who’d chosen to keep her in the dark, to keep making excuses.
And yet...
If she hadn’t had such an obvious crush on Superman. If she hadn’t rejected him in favour of his alter ego - and, yes, in favour of Lex Luthor - he might have told her a long time ago.
But that still didn’t make it her fault.
“Lois.” He pulled his hands free and cupped her face in his palms. “Of course it’s not your fault. That’s just... it’s silly. You didn’t have anything to do with Monica dying.”
“No?” Her gaze met his. “So, whose fault is it, then? If it’s not mine?”
He frowned. “The bastard who attacked her, of course!”
********
Bingo.
And it hadn’t even taken anything like as long as she’d thought it might.
“Exactly, Clark!” She smiled at him. “You didn’t kill her. I didn’t kill her. You have to see that!”
He sighed and pulled away from her.
Well, darn it anyway. Why couldn’t he just *listen* to her for once?
“I still should have heard her. I should have gone to help her.”
She smiled then. That, she could deal with. “Listen, Clark. There’s some stuff you need to hear.”
“What’s that?”
“Come and sit down.” She caught at his hand again and towed him to the couch. “I went to see Bill Henderson earlier. And he told me a few things about Monica’s death that you need to know.”
“Such as what?”
“Such as, she probably didn’t call for help at all. He says the mugger grabbed her around the throat and crushed her voicebox. He thinks it was deliberate, to stop her screaming.”
*********
What?
She hadn’t been screaming? He hadn’t missed a cry for help?
Almost in a whisper, he said, “Really?”
“Really. He said the autopsy will say for sure, but it was pretty obvious when he saw the body.”
“Oh.” He hadn’t ignored her screaming. Hadn’t been so oblivious to everything that he’d missed someone calling for help. Calling for *him*.
“Clark.” He turned his attention back to her. “How does your super-hearing work? Is it something you can turn on and off?”
He shrugged. “Not really. I mean, it just tends to cut in. But I do have to choose to focus or not focus, otherwise I’d have a million sounds in my head at once. It’d drive me crazy - plus make me deaf, cause some of the noise out there is *loud*!”
“So what happens? How do you decide what to focus on?
He shrugged. “Certain words. Phrases. Help, of course. And Superman, if it’s said by someone who sounds frightened. Fire.” He shrugged a second time. “That sort of thing.”
“Right. So if Monica had called for help chances are you would have heard her.”
He nodded slowly. He would, more than likely. Lois was right. He might have chosen to ‘switch off’ from Superman last night, but there was no way that a call for help, from a frightened woman at that, would’ve missed getting through to him.
“And if you had heard her, what would you have done?”
He met her gaze, his expression serious. “I don’t know, Lois. I’d given you my word.”
“But a frightened woman, bleeding to death?”
He hesitated. What would he have done?
There was only one answer: the truth. “I’d have gone.”
********
Yes. Of course he would.
She knew that. Of course he would. He was Superman. More important, he was Clark. And that was exactly what Clark would do.
She leaned closer and hugged him. “Of course you would.”
“But you’d have given up on me,” he said, his gaze troubled.
“I bet you wouldn’t even have thought about that. You’d have gone. You’d have worried about what I’d do later.”
“I guess.” He paused for a moment, then nodded. “Yes. That’s exactly what I’d have done.”
“Right.” She gave him a wide smile. “See, Clark? I know you better than you know yourself.”
“Show-off,” he retorted, but he was smiling too, for the first time since last night. And for that she had to kiss him.
He hesitated for a moment before returning the kiss. Then he broke off after a few seconds. “Lois, this doesn’t change anything. I still can’t have a normal life. We still can’t have a relationship.”
She rolled her eyes. He was such a *lunkhead*! “Have you been listening to a word I’ve been saying, Clark? Of course you can have a normal life. The only reason I was yelling at you for running out on me is that I had no idea *why* you were doing it. Now I know and I understand. Do you honestly think I’m going to insist that you can’t run out on me any more?”
He stared at her. It was as if that thought had never even occurred to him. “Didn’t think of it that way...”
“Well, do. Because now I know that you’re Superman everything’s going to be a lot easier, Clark. Not only can you run out on me without having me yell at you, I can actually *cover* for you. And I bet my excuses will be a lot better than the lame ones you keep using!”
That actually got a laugh from him. “You might be right there.”
“I know I’m right.”
And this time when she kissed him he didn’t stop her.
*********
Later, Lois shared some more information with him. Apparently, the MPD and the Mayor’s office were also feeling a share of the guilt over Monica’s death. Because of cutbacks, there were fewer officers on the street than previously. And one of the casualties of that decision was a patrol in the vicinity of the Planet building.
Had there still been a beat officer covering that area, Monica might have made it out of the building and to her subway station safely.
And there was one piece of very good news. The forensic department had found samples of blood and skin under Monica’s fingernails. Good samples, too. DNA analysis was still being completed, but the blood type had already been analysed. A rare blood group. And there was a match in the police files: to a man who’d already done time for violent mugging.
It seemed as if Monica’s attacker - her killer - would be caught and proven guilty.
Of course, that wasn’t going to bring Monica back. But it was something.
And Lois was right. As she told him over and over, he had as much right to a life as anyone else. He couldn’t do this alone, anyway. He needed someone to care about him, someone he could unburden to, someone to cover for him. And, as she put it, it might as well be her. Because she loved him.
And he loved her, too. He couldn’t deny it, and he didn’t want to.
She was right. He could have her as his girlfriend. Maybe even more. Because, now that she knew the truth, living this double life wasn’t a problem. Okay, it meant that they could probably never guarantee an uninterrupted date, or that they’d actually get to go home together if they were out somewhere. But that was the price they paid for him being Superman.
And, as she put it, it was a price she was more than willing to pay. Because Metropolis needed Superman. And because she loved Clark.
“Put it this way,” she told him when he asked her once more if she was sure that she was willing to share him with the world. “You know how routine bores me. And one thing’s for sure: having a relationship with you will never be boring.”
No. It wouldn’t. It would have its ups and downs, especially at times like this when he had to accept that he couldn’t save everyone, when he started blaming himself and feeling guilty. But then, too, he needed Lois - to ground him, to remind him that not even Superman was omnipresent and omnipotent. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t save everyone.
All that mattered was that he do the best he could.
THE END
