[Chapter 5: Impact]Clark took a deep breath as he stood in full view of the public as Superman.
They were ready and he desperately hoped he was ready too. The radio was in his ear and the helmet was under his arm with the oxygen tank secured to his back. He knew what he had to do and when; he just wished he felt as able as he hoped he appeared.
He had submitted an article for Perry that morning: a brief interview with Superman. He did his best to come across confident, while also being conscious of the fact this might be his last message to the world. It had taken him several hours, with his parents' help, to write it. It had almost been as difficult to complete as the letter.
After giving the article to Perry, he informed the very pleased Chief that he would need to go to Smallville. Fortunately, he hadn't asked for any time off up to that point, and after getting the exclusive interview with Superman (no matter how short), Perry approved his time off.
He hoped this would provide him with enough cover to get back without anyone noticing his true absence---assuming he returned. If not, he had created a few options his parents could initiate if. . . .
He refocused. He couldn't allow himself to think about that. He had to be in the present.
The people around him were tense but hopeful, and many looked at him with gratitude and awe. He did his best to ignore their feelings toward him, as it only served to make him more anxious.
If he failed. . . .
He suddenly felt compelled to scan the crowd. He wasn't sure why, but then he saw her.
Lois was with the press, positioned in the back.
He wondered if she had read his letter.
Their eyes met and the world disappeared for a long second.
She didn't seem to have slept the night before. He could hear her heartbeat, fast and sharp, almost high on adrenaline, or maybe it was caffeine – likely both. Her eyes were wide, as if surprised he had noticed her, but then her surprise faded, as if remembering something. And then she just looked sad. Regretful.
The moment ended as someone asked him a question. He turned away, looking at the head scientist.
"It's time. Are you ready, Superman?" Professor Daitch asked.
"Yes," he said, squaring his shoulders before securing the helmet on his head. He felt the seals press against his skin.
He allowed the scientists to do the final checks before they stepped away from him, indicating all was ready.
"I'll do my best," he promised, his voice distorted through the helmet.
“Good luck, Superman. And thank you,” Daitch said.
With a parting nod, Superman shot up, creating the loudest sonic boom anyone had ever heard.
O o O o O
Everyone at the Daily Planet was gathered in front of the television, watching the live footage from EPRAD.
Lois could feel her nerves fraying more than they ever had before. Every second that passed might be one second closer to never. . . .
"I'm being told we have a transmission from Superman," the news anchor stated. "Let's take that live feed, direct from mission control."
On screen, a logo bearing the words: 'Superman for the Earth' was in the top corner. Underneath that was the chyron:
Voice of SUPERMAN.
"I can see it now. In fact, it's hard to see anything else. It's immense," Superman said, his voice unmistakable despite the slight distortion from the mic. "I feel like an ant next to this."
On the tracking monitor, Superman was a little speck, arching about toward a much bigger dot. Along with that, a dashed line marked the path he had traveled and a faint line indicated his expected trajectory. The total path was a curve instead of a line. It had been explained that, after many simulations and a suggestion from the Man of Steel himself, the plan was to deflect and destroy the asteroid instead of solely breaking it apart from a direct impact. It was hoped the double strategy would ensure success.
"Roger, Superman. We copy you on the ground," Ground Control stated. "Do you have stress point acquisition in visual?"
"Yes," he answered a few seconds later.
"Stand by for the final briefing procedure," Ground Control said.
"I know what I have to do," Superman calmly assured.
"Superman, you're cleared for initiation on your cue," Ground Control conceded. "And there's a lot of people here who want you to know you're the best friend Earth's ever had. Godspeed."
"Thank you. Well, here I go," he said.
They heard an odd warble in the background as the small dot on the screen abruptly picked up speed.
"Impact in five—" Ground Control counted down, even as Superman's voice quietly overlapped their words: a prayer clearly not intended to be picked up by the helmet's mic. But the whole world heard.
"Please,–"
The whispered plea was crisp, holding such emotion that was a stark contrast to Superman's normally confident, powerful voice.
The world stopped spinning. And waited.
"Four–"
"Let me–"
"Three–"
"Save my–"
"Two–"
"Home."
"Impact!"
Superman's transmission instantly cut to static.
It was as piercing as a gunshot.
"This is EPRAD control. We have lost communication with Superman."
Lois sensed a lot of people turn their eyes to her, but she felt completely inadequate to give them reassurance or any sort of verbal response.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, knowing if she attempted any speech she would cave to tears.
No one around her looked much better.
O o O o O
A thrum of pain pulsed through him, the pounding saturating his head ebbed to every inch of his frame.
He was floating, detached.
Where was he?
What happened?
Warmth in the form of light blanketed him from the right, but he barely noticed it.
He was more concerned with figuring out what to do, especially when he realized he was drifting above what could only be miles above Earth.
Why couldn't he remember? How was he here?
Was this real?
He closed his eyes, fatigue thick in every cell as he forced his mind to think and not panic. To try to remember. Remember anything. But he couldn't even remember his name. What the heck was wrong with him?!
The caress of sunlight seemed to brush against his cheek as his mind's eye recalled . . . something.
No. Someone.
.
.
Her hands were on his chest, her lips on his neck. Love filled him up and overflowed.
‘Kal-El,’ a voice murmured in his ear.
He turned his head as she pulled back, allowing him to see her face.
‘Lois,' he breathed.
She was so beautiful. So glorious. This . . . this was true contentment, he decided.
“I love you,’ he said, before more sensation followed and he gasped in wonder.
Lois smiled, beaming with an intensity that could only be compared to his level of joy..
.
He opened his eyes, another scene coming to mind.
He went to her, flying through the sky and coming to her window. Despite his exhaustion, he willed himself down from the edge of space. Down and away from the sun.
It was dark as he cut through heavy clouds, trusting his memory and his instincts to guide him, nevermind how he was moving across the sky.
He came to her window and pushed. It opened with no resistance, which was extremely fortunate as his flight utterly failed him a second after. He stumbled in and barely managed to catch himself on the window frame as his bare feet made contact with the floor.
He fumbled with the window, closing it behind him as his head swam wildly. Nausea clenched around his core and hot black dots peppered his vision as he turned away from the wall. A rushing sound whirled in his ears (or was it his mind?) as he stepped further into the room, and he hit something with his knee.
He fell. Fortunately or unfortunately, he wasn't aware when he landed.
O o O o O
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