TOCChapter 18:As Clark looked up, he saw the shock and confusion on Lois' face. For a moment he wasn't sure whether it was fair to continue. He didn't want to burden her conscience with all these details. He didn’t want to make her feel like he was asking her to decide whether he would do this or not.
But he also knew that she'd hate him if he kept something like this to himself. If he wanted her to trust him again, he needed to trust her as well.
Still, it was hard to spell it out for her. "That's what this was all about from the start. Kelly used the clone's blood to revive Luthor and now she has run out of it. She needs more to heal this body. That's why Luthor stole my body - to get close to Superman and to you. But when he realized that he'd accidentally stolen Superman's body as well, he figured he'd rather keep it."
Her eyes were full of concern as her gaze drifted over his battered body. Surely she remembered the burn marks that he wished she hadn't seen.
She chewed on her lower lip before clearing her throat. "Clark, the way you're looking right now, I don't believe we have a choice but to ask for her help."
Lois averted her gaze as if she was ashamed to even suggest he’d strike this deal. The words seemed to hang in the air like a thick cloud of smoke, impossible to ignore. Clark knew she was right, too, much as he hated to admit it.
He looked down into his lap and rubbed his eyes. "Neither do I, Lois. Neither do I."
A heavy weight settled in Clark's stomach. When he'd told Kelly that he wasn't going to make a deal with her, he'd meant it. Helping the doctor who'd revived a dead person, being at her mercy, if he went through with it and let her have his blood, wasn't just a scary thought. It was terrifying.
While he hadn't wanted Luthor to die, he was also loath to help save the man's life. How could he be so complicit in letting him commit yet more crimes? It wasn’t as though Luthor's resurrection wouldn't miraculously change his character.
But Clark could feel how his life was seeping out of him. Though he was able to rest now, he was getting worse instead of better. When his legs had buckled underneath him, he'd been convinced that he was going to have another attack like the one he knew he wouldn't have survived without the creepy doctor’s intervention.
He hated the idea of asking for her help. The last thing he wanted was to owe her anything, least of all his blood. A childhood's worth of warnings echoed within him. But he wouldn't be able to stop Luthor if he was dead. Refusing Kelly's help was about as heroic as stepping down and offering Luthor his victory on a silver platter. He had no choice but to accept the lesser of two evils.
That realization hit Clark like a ton of bricks. He closed his eyes. “Do you think she's going to help us?"
Lois pursed her lips, then nodded. "I believe in a crude kind of way she really loves Lex. She'd do anything for him. But she wants him the way he was. She doesn't want him in Superman's body. When I talked to her, she said that she wouldn't want-" She broke off, once again unable to meet his gaze.
Clark saw the change in her, the blush tinting her cheeks. "She wouldn't want what?"
"An alien," Lois choked out.
"I see," Clark replied.
He tried to tell himself that he didn't care. It didn't matter whether Kelly of all people approved of him. But the truth was that the word stung. It probably shouldn't. After all, it was merely stating a fact.
But the past few days had really driven home just how different he was, how dangerous he could be.
He'd managed to convince himself that he was in control of his powers and posed no threat to humans. Since he'd become Superman, so many people had readily accepted him. That, combined with the strong sense of belonging he felt in Lois' presence, had allowed him to forget he wasn't a human being. Well, maybe he'd needed the reminder.
Lois' voice was laced with concern. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah," Clark replied, his voice hoarse.
"It's not true," she whispered.
"Huh?" He stared at her, dumbfounded, not getting what she was talking about.
Her thumb drew a small circle on the back of his hand. "You're not an alien, no matter what your birth certificate says."
Clark couldn't help but smile. "I don't have a birth certificate, at least not one that's genuine."
His thoughts involuntarily drifted toward his parents and his blood ran cold. Luthor knew his secret now. While he might not use Lois against him as long as he saw a chance to win back her affection, the same didn't apply to Jonathan and Martha Kent. If Luthor threatened their lives, Clark wouldn't have a choice but to turn himself over to Luthor.
His parents didn't even know they couldn't trust him. While Clark was pretty sure his mother would quickly notice something was off, it might still be too late to prevent a catastrophe.
Clark straightened, fighting against the surge of panic that took hold of him.
"You should go, Lois," he urged.
She shook her head. "I'm not leaving you alone, Clark. You're injured, you need help! Just look at your hand."
As Clark checked the appendage in question, he discovered streaks of blood covering his left hand.
"That bullet wound is bleeding again." Her voice cracked, telling him she was on the verge of panic. "And who knows what else you're hiding."
She started fussing with his jacket, trying to get him to take it off. He reached for her hand and stilled it.
Clark let out a breath. "There's not much more I could possibly be hiding after this. I won't lie to you, I feel awful. But there are more important things to do. I can take care of this arm on my own." With his good hand he reached out and brushed a strand of hair back behind her ear.
"What I can't do is go out there and warn my parents," Clark said quietly. "They need to leave the farm and find some place safe. I'm afraid Luthor might try to use them as leverage."
Lois clapped her hand to her mouth. "Oh, Clark."
She looked scared enough for the both of them. It tore at his heart that he had to put her through this. She was suffering because of who he was. It just wasn't fair. Clark wanted nothing more than to comfort her. But there was no time for that. A few hours was so precious little time, thinking of which--
Clark tensed. "You need to find out how much time we have exactly before Luthor will be back. I have no idea when the sun rises in Rhelasia. It’s close to Singapore."
Lois nodded, her eyes wide. As her gaze drifted over his chest and down to his bloodied left hand, she bit her lip. It was obvious she was still reluctant to leave him alone, if only for the short time it would take to make a couple of phone calls and to contact Gretchen Kelly.
His chest tightened as he thought about her. He simply hated the idea of giving the doctor an inch. But the health of both Luthor's and Superman's bodies were declining. If he remained stubborn about this, they might both be beyond saving. But he guessed that Luthor's body would give up much sooner than Superman's.
"Please, Lois, you need to go. I’ll be okay.”
Something clattered to the floor. Both Lois and Clark whipped their heads around. Clark's heart started to race. Meeting Lois, he'd almost forgotten that there might be other threats looming. Had the police officer followed him here after all? Or Nigel St. John? He tried to scramble back to his feet and found that his limbs just wouldn't cooperate.
"Was that a rat?" Lois squinted into the semi-darkness of the old hospital corridor. "I don't see-"
She broke off as someone stepped out of the shadows. A dark figure, lean and tall, was holding a pistol trained on Lois. Each motion was carefully measured with calm effectiveness. As the man stepped into the light of one of the broken windows, Clark recognized Luthor’s old butler.
Mustering up what little strength he'd left, Clark leaned forward, shielding Lois with his body.
A smile crept across St. John's lips.
"Oh, Mr. Kent. How gentlemanly of you." His voice conveyed a certain level of respect, though he couldn't quite hide his amusement. "Or should I say superman-ly?"
Clark narrowed his eyes on St. John. "It's me you want. Leave Lois alone."
The smile on St. John's lips widened. "You are no coward, I give you that. Mr. Luthor believes that you are only brave when you have your powers. An understandable misconception, I dare say. However, you are mistaken in thinking that Ms. Lane holds no interest for me."
A shiver ran down Clark's spine. "You're here to kill me. Lois has nothing to do with any of this."
“Clark!” Lois gasped behind him.
He felt that she was trying to move past him, but he reached behind and held her, gritting his teeth as his shoulder and chest protested against the motion. Nigel St. John watched his struggle, his lips curling in a sly smile. Overwhelming rage bubbled up in Clark’s chest, coursing through him and letting his muscles tense in preparation to launch an attack at Luthor’s assassin.
“On the contrary,” the Englishman replied, unfazed. “You see, I was fortunate enough to listen to some of your conversation. When Mr. Luthor called to tell me where I was going to find you, I was not far from this part of the city. You did not make it easy for me to follow you, I admit.” He chuckled softly. “Well, from what I gathered, Superman is stuck in Rhelasia. Which leaves me enough time to implement some changes to Mr. Luthor’s plan. And that is where Ms. Lane comes into the picture.”
He lowered his weapon, not enough for Lois and Clark to be out of harm’s way, but enough to indicate that he wasn’t about to kill either of them.
“What do you want?” Lois asked.
Clark threw her a warning glance. It was bad enough that he was about to make a deal with Luthor’s physician. There was no way he was going to let Lois do the same with Nigel St. John. That could only end in tragedy. What he needed to do was get them out of this awful situation. Maybe, if he could find some remnants of those superpowers Luthor had had for a time. But the way things were, it was already taking up all his strength just to kneel in front of Lois without collapsing.
St. John cleared his throat. “Mr. Luthor deposited quite a fortune into the bank account for the future Mrs. Luthor.” He pursed his lips as he flashed Lois a meaningful glance. “As we both know, he died before he could withdraw the money, which means it is still there. But I will need Ms. Lane to get it.”
Lois got up. “And then you’ll leave Clark alone?”
“Lois, don’t,” Clark begged. “This is too dangerous.”
“It’s the only way to save your life, don’t you see that?” she disagreed. “I couldn’t care less where the blood money in the bank account ends up.” Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Lois fixed St. John with a steely stare. “You must swear that you won’t kill Clark. Then I’ll come with you.”
St. John smirked. “The way I see it, I am the one with the gun. You are hardly in a position to negotiate.”
Lois raised her chin defiantly. Clark watched her with a mixture of awe and terror. She was so courageous, more than he could ever be. Here she was standing at gunpoint and just refused to be intimidated by a man who’d probably killed more people than he could count.
“The way
I see it, you can either take me by force and hold me captive while I scream bloody murder on the whole way to the bank...” She smiled a sardonic smile as she paused as if to give St. John time to imagine their way to the bank and the likelihood of that endeavor going unnoticed.
As far as Clark could tell by the expression on St. John’s face, he was indeed considering the implications of taking Lois with him against her will. The smugness of his smile faltered.
She narrowed her eyes on him as she aimed for the kill. “Or I will come with you without making a scene - if you promise to leave me and Clark unharmed.”
St. John’s jaw worked, indicating that he didn’t like the way his position floundered even though he was the one carrying the gun. But since he needed her to withdraw the money, he could hardly threaten her life.
“We have a deal,” he said tightly. “You get me the money, and I will let both of you live.” His gaze drifted across Clark, taking in his sorry state. “Not that it would matter very much whether I kill
him or not. It is only a matter of time until Mother Nature will do that work for me. Now come with me.”
He motioned with his gun to follow him. Lois stepped around Clark and joined St. John.
“Lois, please, no,” Clark whispered. “There has to be another way.”
She turned to look at him. “There isn’t, Clark, and you know that. I’ll be back in a bit.”
She touched her fingers to her lips, sending him a kiss. The tenderness in her gaze, the tears in her eyes, reminded him of the time she’d said goodbye to him when he’d been about to depart to stop the asteroid from destroying Earth. So many times, he’d relived that moment in his dreams, desperately wishing that she’d - just once - look at Clark that way, with such love.
It almost killed him to see that expression now, when he wasn’t himself, when she went with another man who might very well betray her. There was a good chance he would lose her forever. And the worst thing about this? He was helpless to prevent any of it from happening. The body he was currently occupying was too weak to do much of anything, and his own body probably was lying on an island close to Rhelasia, sleeping off his exhaustion.
Either way, he was trapped and completely at the mercy of a man he knew they couldn’t trust.
His throat was tight with tears he couldn’t shed, because giving into them now seemed like he was already admitting defeat. Helplessly, he watched as Lois left with Nigel St. John. There was a scream of frustration stuck in Clark’s throat that threatened to suffocate him.
Shortly, before she turned a corner and would be out of his sight, she looked back at him one last time.
“I love you,” she mouthed.
“Love you, too,” he replied quietly.
He sank back into a sitting position and leaned his back against the wall, the world around him spinning from the effort it had taken to keep kneeling. The realization that he’d completely failed to protect her came crashing down on Clark. Now all he could do was wait and hope that she’d return.
He lost the battle against a single tear that rolled down his cheek. With a low growl of pain, he rammed his right fist against the wall behind him and then, finally, the scream of frustration escaped his throat.
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