Once again, she stood at the door to Clark’s apartment, her arms loaded with bags of food, and this time, one small bottle of aloe vera gel. She hesitated before knocking. Was he home? Would he welcome her showing up again unannounced? She took a deep breath, and knocked quietly, the motion tipping one of the paper grocery bags in her arms sideways, several items falling to the ground. Muttering to herself, she set the bags down, and began to pick up the snacks that had escaped. Curious, she peeled back the mat, and grinned as she spotted the key in its customary spot. Despite their curt words two nights ago, the key was back, but did that mean he had left it there for her to use, or someone else?
Hearing footsteps approach the door, she let the mat fold back to the ground, and started to pick up the second bag as the door opened.
“Lois?”
“Hi,” she said softly as she stood. She couldn’t help but stare at Clark, his unshaven shadow from yesterday now the most facial hair she had ever seen on him, his hair flat and sticking up slightly one one side as though he’d just woken up. “I, uh…” Her mouth had suddenly gone dry, and she stumbled over her words. She watched as Clark nervously fiddled with his glasses, and she tore her eyes from gazing at him, down to the bags she was carrying. “I brought some food over, thought we could have lunch?”
One of the bags tipped precariously as she spoke, and Clark reached for it, taking it out of her arms before it fell, and wordlessly walked into his apartment. She followed, closing the door with her free hand, then setting the other bag on the kitchen counter. Thankfully, it seemed Clark was ok with her visit.
“I was just about to have a shower, can lunch wait a few minutes?”
“Sure.” Lois watched as Clark retreated into his room, hearing the shower turn on within moments. This wasn’t unusual, they frequently stopped at each other’s apartment to clean up or freshen up, so why did she feel flustered? Forcing that thought aside, she earnestly emptied the various tins and packages of food out of the bags, and began to put them in cupboards haphazardly. When she was done, Clark still wasn’t out of the shower, so she wandered over to the bookcases and scowled as she noticed several empty shelves, the missing books in boxes on the floor. Was he organizing or packing, she wondered.
The rain last night and this morning, had cooled the city off after the beautiful warm weather they’d had over the last few weeks. Despite the cooler temperatures, it felt unusually warm inside Clark’s apartment. Lois stepped around the boxes and peered out of the large window that Clark almost always left open, unless it was the dead of winter, but the window was closed and locked. She rested her head on the window frame and watched the grey clouds float by, almost hypnotized by their soothing, steady, motion.
It was hard to believe that her life had changed, and hadn’t, so quickly. Several weeks ago, waiting for Clark to get ready, browsing his bookcase, perusing his trinkets collected from his world travels, hadn’t been out of the ordinary. Several days ago, she never thought she’d be back here, waiting for her best friend.
The best friend who told her he loved her.
Clark’s declaration of love had caught her off guard, and at that moment in the park, she’d been preoccupied with contacting Superman. After her disastrous encounter with the hero, followed by her agreement to marry Lex, she’d forced Clark’s words from her mind, only to have them resurface the morning of her wedding. Walking down the aisle, she’d made a split second decision that she couldn’t marry Lex, and all the anxiety that had plagued her all morning, had lifted. The only thing left to do was tell Lex, deal with his reaction first, and then she’d analyze her decision, try to find out if she’d missed something in her friendship with Clark.
Except everything had gone sideways. There had been no time for analyzing, instead she’d been thrust into an investigation, and into a media spotlight. Her life had suddenly turned upside down, though had Lex lived, she knew it would still have been a media circus after leaving the third wealthiest man at the altar, and she doubted her job at LNN would have continued. Had Lex lived, would he have tried to woo her, or destroy her?
She shuddered at those thoughts, dropping her gaze from the mesmerizing movement of the clouds, and moved towards the kitchen. What was taking Clark so long? As she heard the shower turn off, she opened the can of vegetable soup she’d left out on the counter for their lunch. Clark had eaten soup yesterday, maybe he wouldn’t mind it two days in a row. Splitting the tinned soup between two bowls, she put one bowl in the microwave and started it heating, then taking a loaf of bread to the table, and glasses of water. By the time Clark emerged from his room, two steaming bowls of soup sat waiting at the table, and Lois was starting the kettle.
“I thought you’d like some tea,” she began while turning to smile at him. She stared at his still unshaven face, any more words dying on her lips.
“Thanks. Lunch smells good.”
Flustered, she began to babble. “Well, it’s just soup, from a tin. It doesn’t require me to do more than heat it up, and in a microwave, so less chance of me burning the soup to the pot, and one less dish to clean after. It’s vegetable soup too so there’s no chance of me undercooking it and making someone sick…”
“Lois, it looks great, thank you,” Clark said softly as he sat at the table.
She smiled weakly at him, and abandoned the kettle, joining him at the table. This time, the silence that fell as they ate was not the uncomfortable silence of yesterday, but peaceful, and Lois felt no urge to talk through it. Instead, the soothing sound of rain hitting the windows as it began to pour again, was all they needed. Clark finished first, and after clearing his dishes, began to make them both a cup of tea, while Lois attempted to finish her soup.
It tasted awful, nothing like the soup she’d picked up yesterday from the bistro, which had been seasoned perfectly. This tasted like over salted tomato broth with chunks of fake vegetables in it. Why would people eat this stuff? Trying not to grimace, she swallowed the last spoonful, took her bowl into the kitchen, aware that Clark was watching her for some reason, and appeared to be trying not to laugh. Something had amused him, and for now she was more focused on accepting the offered cup of tea to help take the awful taste of soup out of her mouth than finding out what he found funny.
Returning to the table, she spotted the bottle of aloe gel that she’d set aside earlier. She grabbed it as she sat down, waiting for Clark. When he sat, and placed his mug on the table, she slowly reached out for his hand. He immediately pulled his hands out of her reach and stared at her, eyes wide.
“Clark, it’s ok,” Lois reassured him. He placed his hands back onto the table and she gently touched his fingers, guiding him to turn his hands palm up. He flinched slightly, but left his hands within her grasp. His hands turned, she retrieved the bottle of aloe gel and opened it. She watched as his eyes narrowed suspiciously, and she turned the bottle so he could see the label before squeezing a few drops onto his right hand, on top of the burn. Carefully, not wanting to startle him, she tenderly began to soothe the gel into his skin, before moving to his left hand to repeat her ministrations.
Releasing his hands, she put the cap onto the bottle, and set it down next to his tea. “It’ll help with the healing process,” she stated as she stood, heading to the kitchen to wash the remaining gel from her hands. “You should try it on the rest of your injuries,” she said as she gestured at his chest. She watched as Clark picked up the bottle and read the directions and ingredients, before heading to his bedroom.
Lois let out a heavy breath, leaning against the kitchen counter. Lunch had been comfortable, despite the silence, but the last few minutes had felt charged, she half expected a lightning bolt to slice through the kitchen. What had that been about?
She was startled by the sound of Clark’s voice, his answer machine message indicating someone had called. He had to have turned the ringers off as she hadn’t heard either phone ring.
“Clark? I missed your call yesterday, and was hoping to catch you. Can you please call us when you get in, and let us know how you are? We’re worried…”
Lois, after a very brief moment of hesitation, picked up the phone.
“Hi, uh, Mrs. Kent. It’s Lois.”
“Lois, honey, you know you can call me Martha. Mrs. Kent was my mother in law! How are you doing, dear?”
“Yes, Mrs… Martha. Sorry, yes. I’m ok…” Lois fumbled awkwardly.
“Are you sure? I’ve seen those journalists swarming you every time you leave your apartment. Make sure you call the police if they’re being too much of a nuisance.”
“Oh, they’re not too much of a nuisance,” Lois tried to assure her, adopting a cheery tone, while trying to stop the giant lump in her throat from growing. Martha was showing more concern for her wellbeing than her own mother had. “They’ll give up soon.”
“Oh, dear, I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through all of this. What a horrible thing to happen…”
Lois didn’t want to discuss the death of her ex-fiance with Clark’s mother. “Well, it was horrible…” she trailed off, needing to end Martha’s path of concern. “I just stopped by to check on Clark, and drop off some aloe. He should be out of the bathroom soon.”
“Lois,” Clark called sharply from across the living room making her jump at his curt tone.
****
He stood in the bathroom waiting for the gel to soak into his skin, feeling some relief as the dry, sore, skin became less itchy. He didn’t want to head back to Lois and have the gel soaking into his shirt, give away just how many injuries he had. He picked up the bottle and read the information closely, wishing he would have known about it earlier. He’d spent most of the day trying not to scratch the healing burns, and every time he moved it felt like he was pulling the new skin forming. This healing thing was a pain in many ways.
When Lois had reached for his hand, he’d pulled away, a brief flash of green Kryptonite bars searing into his skin jumping to his mind. He’d heard her reassurances, pulled himself out of the memory, and placed his hands back on the table. Trying not to let on that he’d just had a moment of panic, he hadn’t been prepared for her to touch his fingers, then his palms. He’d forced himself to relax as much as he could, focus on who had his hand, before realizing that the skin on his palms felt better, and at that point he couldn’t have said whether it was the goop Lois had put on his skin, or her gentle caress.
What was happening between them? When he’d opened the door after hearing the quiet knocking, she’d stared at him, fumbling over her words, and he’d instinctively reached for his glasses to be sure he was wearing them as the gaze she held was eerily similar to the way she stared at Superman.
Lunch had been peaceful, though it tasted awful. Lois had clearly not read the instructions to add water to the tin of condensed soup, and it resulted in a salty and strong tomato flavoured soup. He’d eaten it, not wanting to point out her mistake, but hadn’t been able to hold back a grin as he watched her grimace over the last few spoonful’s of the awful concoction. It would have been so easy to try to slip back into their old friendship, make a joke about it, share a laugh, and ignore everything that had happened in the last few weeks, but he couldn’t do that, not yet.
He stared at his reflection in the mirror, rubbing his fingers lightly over the stubble that was rapidly becoming a beard. He needed time and space to work through everything, from what he was going to do for employment, to his relationship with Lois, if there was a friendship left to salvage. They had to talk, and he would need to answer her questions.
He grasped the bathroom counter, hearing the sound of the wedding march playing in his memory, while he reached past the Kryptonite bars, screaming…
No! He was not going to panic, not now. Taking deep breaths, he left the bathroom and went to find a clean shirt.
“Hi, uh, Mrs. Kent. It’s Lois.”
He hadn’t heard the phone ring, but he heard Lois talking and wanted to laugh. Lois had met his parents several times, and every time his mom reminded her not to call her Mrs. Kent. He didn’t need his super hearing to know she was saying the same thing down the phone to Lois.
“Yes, Mrs… Martha. Sorry, yes. I’m ok…”
He slid a long sleeved t shirt over his head, sliding the sleeves down to his wrists, ensuring his wounds were covered, as Lois’s voice continued.
“Oh, they’re not too much of a nuisance,” Lois said. “They’ll give up soon.”
He had no idea what she was talking about, focusing on the fake cheery tone she had adopted, knowing she was lying to his mom.
“Well, it was horrible…” she said softly, as Clark saw her expression change, and her shoulders slump. She hesitated before speaking again, the fake cheery tone returning. “I just stopped by to check on Clark, and drop off some aloe. He should be out of the bathroom soon.”
“Lois,” Clark called across the living room, immediately concerned that she’d say too much to his mother. He winced as she jumped, he hadn’t intended to be so sharp with her, and took the receiver from her.
“Mom,” he softened his tone, turning away from Lois who was now glaring at him.
“Clark, honey, are you ok?”
“Mom, it’s ok.” He glared right back at Lois. “I’m fine.”
“Then why is Lois bringing you aloe?”
“It’s nothing, Lois is just over reacting.”
“Clark!” Lois exclaimed loudly. “I was not over reacting. You’re injured, I’m just being a friend…”
He tried to cradle the receiver against his shoulder, hoping it would muffle his words to Lois. “I’m fine, ok, I’m fine. I don’t need your help.”
“If you’re fine, then why are you jumping every time someone gets too close? Why do you have injuries all over your arms, and…”
“I have this under control,” he shouted back at her, his hand holding the phone dropping to his waist, fighting the swell of panic beginning to grow as her words brought forth memories of his burns and how he had acquired them.
“Clark!” His mother yelled down the phone startling both of them. “Clark, I have no idea what is going on right now, but either you’re coming down here, or your father and I are flying up there. I expect a call back within the hour with your decision, and if I don’t hear from you, your father and I will be on the next flight. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ok,” he said sullenly.
“We’ll talk soon,” was all she said before she abruptly hung up on him. Clark stared at the receiver trying to remember the last time his mother had spoken to him like that, before putting the receiver in its cradle. He turned to face Lois, angry.
“Why did you have to butt in? Now they’re worried.” He knew he was speaking louder than necessary, but didn’t care.
“You should have told your mom the truth. Why did you lie?”
“It’s none of your business.” Clark stepped backwards. Lois was within arms reach and he felt crowded, stuck between the couch and the coffee table where the phone sat. “You should leave.” He could feel his heart rate increasing, the trapped sensation remaining despite the openness of his home.
“Fine.” Lois retreated to where she had left her purse when she had arrived. “Don’t you know how fortunate you are to have people in your life who are worried about your well being?”
“Yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have married Luthor, maybe you’d still have friends and family to support you.” As the words left his lips he tried to stop them, and watched in horror as Lois’s face turned white. Before he could say anything, the door opened.
“What in the Sam Hill is going on here?”
****
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