Live Another Day
Part 4:
Clark's mind was a jumble of different emotion, varying from anger to blind panic and a sense of despair. Ray had stabbed him and broken the blade of his knife. It couldn't have been worse if he'd written the word alien on his forehead with bold letters. As they reached his room, Clark pushed the woman toward the mattress.
"Look, I'm sorry," Ms. Lane gasped. Her eyes were wide with fear.
She stumbled a few steps and caught herself just in time before she would have landed there in an unceremonious heap. Clark bit back a sigh of relief. He hadn't meant to hurt her, but his nerves were on edge. He’d been close to blowing his cover because of her. And he couldn't risk that, for the sake of both of them.
"Never do that again!" Clark said through clenched teeth. "Next time I won’t rush to your rescue."
His threat was empty, but the woman’s eyes widened in horror. Clark knew he would save her again, regardless of the consequences. But he didn't necessarily have to tell her that.
His mind was racing as he thought about a way out of his current predicament. It was crucial that he acted before anyone would notice that he wasn't bleeding. Clark grabbed Ms. Lane's arm and pulled her up again to drag her toward the bathroom. She screamed, whether in fear or pain was hard to tell. Reflexively, Clark loosened his grip. He desperately needed to regain control of his emotions - and he really didn't need Lois Lane right now.
"You stay in here." His heart was pounding when he saw the fear on her face. Once again his stomach lurched. He noticed that she wasn't rubbing her arm, so maybe he hadn't hurt her after all. He calmed down a bit.
"What are you going to do?" Ms. Lane retreated into a corner of the bathroom to get as far away from him as possible.
"Come up with something." Clark grabbed a shiny metallic box from the mirror cabinet before he quickly closed the bathroom door. “You have water and a toilet in there. I won't come in and you won't come out, understand?"
"Yes," she mumbled meekly, her voice muffled behind the door.
Clark sighed and leaned his back against the wall. He hadn't imagined it that way. Lois Lane shouldn't have been at the Daily Planet.
~~~~
It was late afternoon and the seedy bar on the outskirts of Washington D.C. was almost empty. Scardino was sitting at one of the tables in the back, far away from any possibly prying ears. He was nursing a drink, maybe whiskey by the looks of it.
As he saw Clark, he raised his glass in a toast and grinned. “Edgar, so good to see you again.”
Clark tried to shake the sense of unease as he was addressed in that way. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand slightly on edge as he walked toward the cocky agent.
Fighting his urge to run, he sat down next to him. “Why am I here, Scardino?”
Scardino pulled a face. “Hello, Dan, long time no see.”
Clark let out a sigh. He couldn't say that he particularly liked the man. He was over-confident and had a way of acting on impulse that Clark found more than a little unnerving. But he had promised General Newcomb to meet with Scardino. Besides, it wasn't the agent's fault that Clark felt so out of sorts.
He decided to give in. “Okay....Dan. What do you want? Burt said you needed my help. You don't appear to be in any kind of immediate danger, like you were back in Panama.”
It seemed like ages ago that they had met there. Scardino had been working for the DEA and had gotten himself into deep trouble with the local drug lords. Clark didn't know the specifics. But Scardino's father was a good friend of the general, so Clark had been asked to rush to his rescue. During that incident, Scardino had seen more of his special abilities than he felt comfortable with. And ever since Clark had learned about his alien origins and the way people tended to react to that knowledge, his discomfort had grown. Clark eyed the man next to him warily.
“I'm not,” Scardino conceded. “But it's important nonetheless. Besides, Uncle Burt said that you might be looking for a new job.”
Clark gave Scardino a non-committal shrug. In fact, he didn't know what he wanted to do with his slightly unexpected freedom. He wasn’t used to that. And he felt still a little dazed that he’d somehow managed to stay alive, which was a miracle in itself. He hadn’t yet dared to make any plans.
Ever since Clark had developed his powers, he had been under tight observation by General Newcomb and his special army division, ‘Bureau 39’. Clark had been trained to control his powers, and when his ability to fly kicked in he had been turned into a one man intelligence service. But the cold war was over and his services were no longer needed. At least that was the semi-official version. Clark knew that his being an alien had been another huge factor to settle that decision. General Newcomb, one of the few people who still supported him, had retired. Bureau 39 had been shut down.
And suddenly Clark was free to do almost anything that he wanted. And most importantly, he was Clark Kent again. He hadn’t been able to use that name for over ten years.
A waitress appeared at their table. “Can I get you something to drink?”
Clark gave her a small smile. “Coke, please.”
“How about a vodka martini? Shaken not stirred?” Scardino joked.
The waitress looked a little confused, her eyes darting back and forth between Scardino and Clark. “I guess I could get that, too.” It was hard to tell if she had even gotten the joke.
“That won’t be necessary,” Clark shot Scardino a warning glance. “Coke is fine.”
Scardino laughed and took another sip of his whiskey as the waitress left to get Clark’s drink. “Never drink on a job, huh? You’re such a bore. I think vodka martini would have been rather fitting.” He lowered his voice a few pitches. “My name is Springs. Edgar Springs.”
“Don’t say that name,” Clark warned him.
For more than ten years, he had lived under the name Edgar Springs. What sounded like a proper name for a person actually was a small town in eastern Missouri. It was the place where Major Robert Irig had found Clark’s space ship. The ship had suffered great damage as it had entered the earth’s atmosphere. When he had found a baby inside the capsule, he had assumed that the Russians had sent a baby on a space mission. Robert had taken Clark with him to the army base where he’d been stationed. Bureau 39, a secret army division that had specialized in anything concerning space travel, had learned about Robert’s discovery a couple of days later. But they had quickly lost interest in caring for a baby that apparently was completely ordinary.
An army base wasn’t exactly the right place for a baby either and none of the residing families had been willing to take up an orphan who might prove to be a Russian spy. So Robert had offered to ask his brother Wayne if he wanted to care for the baby. But on his way back to Smallville, Robert remembered that Wayne had told him how much their neighbors Jonathan and Martha Kent wanted to have a child. That was how Clark had come to his parents. But Robert had kept an eye on him and so had Bureau 39. His powers had started to develop in his childhood. Sometime during his early teens, it had become obvious that Clark was anything but an ordinary kid.
When he had turned twelve, shortly after his heat vision had kicked in, Clark had been taken away from his parents and brought to General Newcomb. The only concession in regard to the Kent family had been changing Clark’s name so that no one would ever learn about their connection to Clark – or Edgar Springs.
“Are you still with me?” Scardino asked.
Startled, Clark almost jumped from his chair. “Huh?”
Scardino grinned. “You zoned out on me there, Edgar. Something on your mind?”
Clark felt that he blushed. “I’m sorry. But don’t call me Edgar. My name is Clark. Clark Kent.”
A couple of months before Bureau 39 had been shut down Clark had learned the truth about his origins. He actually had been born on another planet called Krypton. A globe on his damaged ship had contained a recorded message for him. Clark couldn’t honestly say that he’d been surprised to learn that. And he guessed that several people around him had already suspected that he might not be human. He had thought that the people around him respected him for what he had done for the country and didn’t care whether he was an alien. But unfortunately, that wasn’t true for Jason Trask. The man had spent half his life trying to prove that Earth was threatened by an alien invasion. Learning that an alien had been living among people and secretly working for the government was more than he could stomach.
He’d found people in the Pentagon who had been willing to listen. As a result Clark’s division had been shut down. Jason Trask would probably have preferred to kill him. He’d tried to do it once and that one attempt still haunted Clark in his nightmares.
Maybe Trask would have succeeded if it hadn’t been for the Nightfall asteroid. It would have hit Earth if Clark hadn’t prevented that from happening. He’d almost been killed due to lack of oxygen and spending all his powers on destroying the asteroid. It had taken him days to recover enough to contact Newcomb and let him know that he wasn’t dead. As far as Jason Trask and other people in the Pentagon were concerned, Edgar Springs had never returned from that mission. General Newcomb had always treated Clark with the respect one being should have for another. He’d helped Clark survive. And now, for the first time in over ten years, Clark had no obligations. All he needed to do was stay under the radar of Jason Trask and he was free to live a normal life. If such a thing was possible for someone like him.
Scardino smiled and raised his glass. “To Clark Kent.”
Clark felt strangely content. It was good to finally have someone call him by his real name. Beside his parents, that was. They had been elated when he had turned up on their door step after all those years to tell them that he was free. At first, he hadn’t been sure how to approach them or if he should go see them at all. Though they had known about his extraordinary strength and the heat vision, they hadn’t seen him develop into the powerful being that he was now. Clark had been afraid that they’d hate him for what he had become. But in the end he’d just missed them too much to stay away. He had visited them several times before he’d worked up the courage to tell them everything about his powers. Fortunately, they had taken the news in stride. But they didn’t know about his alien origins yet. He dreaded that conversation and the havoc it might wreak in his life, if his parents shared Trask’s xenophobia.
The waitress returned and put a glass of coke down in front of Clark. He thanked her with a brief nod. Smiling to himself, he raised the glass to his lips and took a sip. Burt had promised Clark that after this one favor, he would forever be out of his hair. If only he knew what his next step was supposed to be.
He focused his attention back on the man next to him. “Okay, Dan. How can I help you this time, if saving you from certain death is not it?”
Scardino looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening in. “There’s a criminal mastermind who calls himself The Boss. I need your help finding out who this guy is.”
Clark raised his brows. “But that’s a job for the police. Aren’t you still with the DEA? And what do you need me for?”
Scardino swirled the contents of the glass in his hand. “Because he’s just a rumor on the streets. There are only a few police officers who even believe he actually exists. And those who do can’t find someone who’s willing to talk.”
Clark leaned back in his chair. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re so keen on proving that there is such a person as this Boss.”
Scardino put his glass on the table with a crash. His eyes narrowed and his otherwise open, friendly face became impenetrable. “My partner Jenna and I were busting a drug ring in Metropolis. We had found a dealer who was ready to reveal the people pulling the strings in the background. Suddenly all hell broke loose. Our witness and my partner were both killed.”
Scardino drew in a sharp breath. It was obvious that his partner’s death was still eating at him. “When I started to investigate her death, I realized that not only the dealers in Metropolis were unusually well organized. The Boss seems to control literally every crime in Metropolis. He needs to be brought to justice.”
Clark frowned. "That sounds an awful lot like you’re looking for revenge."
Scardino shook his head. “I won’t lie to you. I want to make this guy pay for what he did to my partner. But I’m not looking for vigilantism, if that’s what you think. If only half of the rumors about the Boss are true, then he needs to be stopped. I have reason to believe that he’s already started to spin his web here in Washington. He could become a danger to the whole nation. What I need is enough evidence to convince the right people that I’m not chasing a ghost.”
Clark thoughtfully finished his coke. “And you want me to give you that evidence?”
“Burt said that you had pretty unique abilities enabling you to uncover every secret. He said that if anyone could find out who this Boss is, it was you.” Scardino waved at the waitress and pointed at his now empty glass. “I’ve seen some of the things you can do first hand, Edgar.”
The waitress understood his silent order and brought a new glass of whiskey.
Clark waited for her to leave. “Shush! Would you please stop talking about me like that?” he hissed angrily. “No one can know about me! And the name is Clark!”
“But you’re fantastic. I owe you my life,” Scardino said.
“Yeah, well, I’m just starting to regret that,” Clark replied grumpily. “If you breathe another word about my so-called abilities, I’m going to have to kill you.”
The threat had left his mouth before Clark had a chance to stop himself. He wasn’t even sure if he meant it. He’d never been trained to be a killer. Some people in the military had seen him as the perfect assassin. But the majority of the people of Bureau 39 had been afraid that a being as powerful as he was could become a terrible threat to humankind if used as a super-soldier. Clark was glad that they had never forced him to kill people. That went against his every instinct.
Scardino laughed. “I bet you never killed a person in your whole life.”
“No, I didn’t,” Clark conceded. “But if you go on talking about my name and the things I can do, you might be the first. There are people I need to protect that are much closer to me than you are.”
The threat made Scardino almost choke on his whiskey. He coughed and sat down his glass. “Okay, okay. Calm down. I won’t mention any of this to anyone.”
“You better.” Clark got up from his chair to leave the bar.
“Please wait.” Scardino begged. “Look, I don’t know what happened to you, but I get that you probably had a rough time. You used to be the most compassionate person I know. I could really use your help! Can you do it?”
Clark heaved a sigh and sat back down on his chair. He nodded slowly. “I might be able to get you the name of this man. But whatever I find won’t hold up in court.”
Scardino relaxed in his chair and took another sip of his whiskey. “Then I’ll find the evidence I need the old fashioned way. I believe it will be a whole lot easier, if I know what I’m looking for.”
~~~
It had taken Clark a few weeks to have fair idea who this Boss was. He’d used his special abilities to keep an eye on the local thugs of Metropolis. He’d listened in on conversations and had x-rayed buildings. In the end, he was sure that Lex Luthor wasn’t the philanthropist he wanted the world to see. Scardino had been excited about the news, but they had soon realized that Luthor had hidden his tracks very well.
At first, Clark hadn’t wanted to spend more time in Metropolis than he strictly needed to do his job. But when he’d seen just how evil Lex Luthor was, he’d no longer been able to turn his back on Dan and let him do all the work on his own. Clark had felt committed to the cause, hook, line and sinker.
After weeks of futile research, they had decided that Clark would go undercover. Scardino didn’t trust the local police to do the job. There were too many cops on Luthor’s payroll. At least, they had enough evidence to find the support of one police officer Dan was certain they could trust. While Inspector Bill Henderson wasn’t happy to send someone undercover who wasn’t even a police officer, he also didn’t have any better ideas.
Clark had used his knowledge of Metropolis’ underworld to find himself a job as one of Luthor’s goons. Thanks to his abilities, he had quickly been able to work his way up. Now he was the leader of this group, the one who could contact the Boss. But Clark didn’t know how he was going to proceed from there. He kept hitting dead ends and now he’d gotten himself into an impossible situation.
Dan had told Clark that Lois Lane was acquainted with Luthor. It was tempting to use her. But Clark didn’t want to endanger her life. He'd treated her badly enough already.
He had no idea how to get Lois out of this situation after Dan had refused to help him feign her death. According to him, it’d be too much trouble as long as they had nothing to gain from it. Of course, Clark could just sweep her up into his arms and fly her out. He could take her to his hide-out in Hobb’s Bay until the coast was clear. But then the work of months would have been for nothing. If she stayed here, she would sooner or later endanger his cover, in more ways than one. But he doubted that Dan would truly understand how dangerous that could be for Clark and his parents.
Clark held out the broken tip of the blade that should have been embedded in his leg. He was cursing himself for being so thoughtless. When he’d gone flying, the sun’s energy had fully restored his powers. He’d been just plain stupid! In his fight with Ray, he had almost given himself away. It had taken all his self-control to keep Ray from hurting himself. Clark had realized too late that Ray had managed to strike him with the knife and break the blade in the process. In order not to attract too much attention, Clark had faked a limp. But he knew that he couldn’t easily maintain this masquerade for days.
Clark stared at the lead case in his hands that contained a green crystal. It had been both his nemesis and his companion for years. General Newcomb had given him the crystal as a farewell gift. It was a weird present, since the crystal was the one substance that could kill him. But Clark knew that Burt had meant well. Maybe it was time to name the crystal, Clark mused idly. However, he wasn’t sure if a proper name would make it more scary or less. He closed his eyes as he felt his heart pounding heavily in his chest, spurred on by dread and anticipation.
Clark had spent years learning how to control his powers. Some of the lessons had been rather painful. Once Bureau 39 had discovered the green glowing crystal and the effect it had on Clark, they had exposed him multiple times. At first, they had mostly used it to control and interrogate him. But eventually, the crystal had become a part of his training. Over time, Clark hadn’t only learned how to use his powers safely, but also how to channel them.
If Clark used the crystal to take the edge off his powers, he could control which powers he lost and which stayed with him. That way, he could weaken his invulnerability enough to suffer a bruise or a split lip if he engaged in a fight. It helped him stay under the radar.
But taking the edge off his powers wouldn’t be enough to inflict an injury the blade of a knife would cause. Clark knew that after the past couple of hours, he wasn’t in the right set of mind to pull something like this off with only a limited exposure. If it was at all possible, which he doubted.
If he exposed himself for a longer time, he wouldn't be able to prevent Ms. Lane from escaping again. He wouldn’t be able to do much of anything. To be able to protect her, he needed his strength. But he also needed to do his job, if he wanted to expose Luthor as the criminal he was. It was too important a task to just give up on it. He couldn’t risk blowing his cover now. Besides, he couldn’t have anyone gossiping about injuries that should have been there but weren’t. And Lois Lane was a reporter, for heaven’s sake. Who was to say that she wouldn’t include any of this in an article?
If anything remotely strange happened around him and word would get to Trask, he’d know that Edgar Springs wasn’t dead. And if Lois Lane decided that compared to Luthor, Clark was even the bigger story – it would only be a matter of time until Trask found him. Or worse even – his parents. Clark couldn’t let that happen.
Given the choice between the two options, he knew what he dreaded more than the crystal - being exposed.
There was no other way. And it wasn't like he could ask anyone's advice. His parents didn't even know the crystal existed and he wasn't going too tell them.
He could only hope that Ms. Lane would be prudent enough to stay out of trouble until he felt better. Knocking himself out of commission now could endanger the mission just as much as risking exposure. Clark was sure that sooner or later he would regret his decision in one way or another. So what was the lesser of two evils?
He took a deep breath. He couldn't give up now. Lex Luthor needed to be stopped. And Lois Lane wasn’t defenseless. Hank had experienced that first hand. Besides, as soon as the sun came up, his strength would be restored to a human level. He wasn’t going to be completely helpless. At least not for long.
Clark shrugged out of his jacket to get more comfortable for what he was about to do. He sat down and put the box next to him on the floor. He looked at his pants. There was a hole a few inches above his right knee where Ray had struck him with the knife. He tore the hole a little wider. Then he ripped two small lumps of cloth from his already tattered shirt and wrapped them around his hands to keep them from getting burnt right away.
He swallowed hard and tried to brace himself for what was to come. Then he opened the box. The crystal glowed in a sickly green. Intense pain rolled over him in waves. Clark involuntarily gasped for air and squeezed his eyes shut. Although it wasn’t the first time he was exposed to this piece of his home planet, he’d never gotten used to the effects. Sure, he didn't pass out immediately like he had the first time. But that didn't make the matter any less uncomfortable. Quite the opposite, in fact.
With clenched teeth, Clark grabbed the stone. White hot agony raced through his body like an electrical storm, leaving only weakness in its wake. He almost dropped the crystal again. Even despite the fabric, his palm burned like fire, and his stomach tightened. He felt sick and dizzy. It took all his resolve to go on and take the next step. His vision swam and beads of sweat pooled on his forehead. The pain in his hand was almost unbearable. His fingers felt numb and his arm too heavy to lift. The green glowing crystal seemed to suck all energy out of him.
Gritting his teeth, he adjusted his grip on the stone and started to cut the skin of his upper leg with one of its sharp edges. The fire in his hands spread across his whole leg. Being burned with red-hot iron couldn’t possibly feel any worse than this. Clark couldn't bite back the cry that escaped his lips. His body was shaking uncontrollably and the world started to spin around him. As if through thick fog he felt himself tilt to the side until he hit the floor. The stone rolled from his limp fingers.
Weakness and pain paralyzed him and pressed him to the ground until it became harder and harder to breathe. Panic washed over him as he fought to remain conscious. Dark spots danced before his eyes. He needed to put the stone back into its case while he still could or he was a goner. Clark struggled to roll over and prop himself up on his elbows. It was a Herculean task. The stone blurred before his eyes. Crawling, he inched closer until he could reach out to take the crystal one last time. More searing pain set his body aflame as he touched it. Every fiber of his body screamed in agony.
The lead case. Even thinking became hard as he used his other hand to feel for the one item that could save him now. Clark cursed himself for his own arrogance. He had seriously underestimated the effect that touching this crystal would have on him. If he wasn’t damn lucky…
More black spots danced before his eyes and he knew that he was very close to passing out. Suddenly, his fingers closed around the lead case and he pulled it toward him. Clark grunted with the effort of putting the crystal back in its case. With one last defiant struggle he willed his feeble hands to close the lid.
Then everything around him went black.
***
Lois unconsciously rubbed the arm where Chuck had grabbed her. It hadn't really hurt. In fact, his grip had been surprisingly gentle. She had expected that he would vent his anger on her after what she had done.
Chuck confused her. On the one hand he scared the hell out of her. On the other hand he hadn't laid a finger on her.
She was worried about the strange noises that were coming from the other side of the bathroom door. For a while it had been quiet. But a couple of minutes ago, Chuck had started to moan as if he was in pain. Lois remembered that he had been limping after the fight. Was he hurt more badly than she'd thought?
Suddenly, there was a cry that cut her to the quick. Lois heard a thud as something landed on the floor. Chuck groaned. What was he doing out there, Lois wondered. There was a metallic sound and then everything went eerily quiet.
Strangely, the silence had Lois more worried than the noise she had heard before. Her heart was pounding wildly in her chest. What if he needed help? Did she dare defy him once again and risk enraging him even more than she already had? It wasn’t like she owed him anything, least of all help. After all, he had abducted and threatened her.
But he had also saved her from the others, a tiny voice in the back of her mind whispered. Without him, she would have been… she didn’t even dare to think the word.
After a few moments of inner battle, her instinct to help won the upper hand. Lois decided to ignore Chuck’s order to stay inside the bathroom. The door wasn’t locked. She opened it. But after a couple of inches, she suddenly found herself pushing against a resistance. Had Chuck blocked the door? Lois managed to peek around it and spotted Chuck lying sprawled on the floor. His limp body prevented her from getting into the main room. He didn’t move. The pounding of her heart even increased. Was this some trick to lull her into a false sense of security? Or was he dead?
Before Lois had the time to contemplate the implications, Chuck started to groan again. It sounded so heart-wrenching that she could virtually sense his pain. There was no way he could fake that. Lois pushed against the door, but it wouldn’t budge. She had to slam her full weight against the wood until she was finally successful. Inch by inch, she managed to shove Chuck a little further into the room. Lois was panting by the time she was able to slip through the opening.
Another moan filled the room as Chuck seemed to stir. With shaking arms he propped himself up and ungracefully turned on his back. His face was ashen. Lines of pain were marring his features. Clumsily, he tried to sit upright and lean his back against the wall. Lois automatically knelt down. He seemed startled by her touch as she assisted him.
The right leg of his pants was soaked with blood. So he had been hurt. Because of her. Lois bit her lip. But just a moment ago, he hadn’t been so out of it.
She voiced the question that came to her mind. “What happened to you?” Her gaze wandered over his very pale face and down to his leg that was still bleeding profusely. “Did you pull the fragment of the knife out?”
His voice was weak. “Need to… dress the… wound. Box. Over there.” Chuck pointed towards the shelf, but quickly dropped his arm again as if it was too heavy to lift. Even this small motion and the few words seemed to have exhausted him completely. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall, catching his breath.
“You need a doctor,” Lois stated the obvious.
Chuck’s eyes fluttered open and he shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”
Lois snorted, but went to get the box. “You seemed fine when you dragged me into the bathroom. Now you look like hell. What happened out here?”
“It’s not… as bad… as it… looks,” he said quietly. “Just give me… a couple… of minutes.”
Lois pulled a face. “You’re not answering my question.”
Chuck nodded feebly. “On purpose. Thanks for… your help. And now… get back… into… the bathroom…. I need… to get… out of… my pants.”
Lois crossed her arms in front of her chest. “And what if I don’t want to go back?”
Chuck raised his brows. “If you’re thinking about going out there again – you… should know that I can’t… hold out another round… against the three guys out there…. I’m lucky that they… haven’t seen through me, yet, Ms. Lane.”
“You know my name?” Lois was startled.
“And all of your articles. You're good,” he said calmly. “Believe it or not, I’m not your enemy. I didn't mean to drag you here. But after you saw Hank's face, I couldn't possibly let you go. That would have blown my cover.”
Blown his cover? What could he mean by that? Did he belong to the police? But he was the leader of this gang. That didn't fit into the picture. Lois wanted to ask him what was going on, but the expression on his face left little doubt that he was not willing to play the twenty-questions game.
Chuck’s look was so stern that he actually managed to scare her. “And now leave me alone.”
As much as this man terrified her, she couldn’t bring herself to leave him on his own. “Look at you! You need help.”
“You can’t stay here!” Chuck grunted. “Get back.”
His arms and legs were shaking as he pushed himself off the floor. He leaned against the wall, looking like he was ready to keel over any minute. The color drained from his face completely. He looked even paler than before if that was at all possible. Lois felt her heart pounding in her chest. Chuck’s eyes widened as he swayed on his feet. He clutched at the wall for support and drew in a shaky breath. His legs trembled underneath him, obviously unwilling to carry his weight. It seemed quite impossible, but somehow he managed two steps.
“Please, just get back into the bathroom.” The way he pleaded, Lois couldn’t help the impression that Chuck was afraid of something.
Right in that moment, his legs buckled underneath him and he sank back onto the floor.
Lois rushed to his side. “You’re insane. You know that, don’t you?”
He tried to fend her off, but his attempts were rather weak. Why was he putting up such a struggle? Though a myriad of questions were burning on the tip of her tongue, Lois decided to swallow them down for the moment. With shaky fingers she undid the buttons of Chuck’s pants and helped him to slip out of them. The wound in his upper leg was still bleeding heavily. No wonder he was so out of it.
Chuck opened a box full of dressing material and unpacked a stack of compresses. He pressed them onto his leg, hissing in pain. Then he handed Lois a gauze bandage.
“Wrap this around my leg,” he said softly. “Make sure to apply enough pressure.”
Lois nodded and began to work. While her hands were busy, she realized that she was becoming calmer. She looked around, her gaze drifting across Chuck’s ashen face that was covered with beads of sweat. He carefully watched her every move. His expression remained hard to read. Though he had obviously decided to accept her help now, she could tell that he wasn’t comfortable with that decision. Chuck’s lips were drawn into a thin line.
A small smile appeared on his lips when she was done. “Thank you.”
Lois felt a little self-conscious. “I should thank you,” she said quietly. “You saved me out there. And you got hurt because of me.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Chuck’s eyes didn’t quite meet hers. “You should go and clean yourself now. You’ve got blood on your hands.”
Though his words sounded friendly enough, Lois still couldn’t quite shake the feeling that his prime intention was to get rid of her. But perhaps she was just imagining things, and there was no denying that he was right. Her hands were sticky with his blood. Lois decided not to overanalyze his motives and returned into the bathroom where she began to wash her hands.
To be continued
Last edited by bakasi; 07/26/21 09:52 AM.
