Blueowl asked for a prequel showing the events leading up to my Ficathon contribution Don't Let Me See You HurtDon’t Wanna Say Goodbye “How about the movies?” Clark asked. “We could have dinner at a nice little restaurant. Or we could do something a bit more exotic? I know a place in Greece. They serve the best moussaka you've ever had. Plus, the restaurant is close to a little bay facing west. The sundowns are spectacular.”
Lois raised her brows. “It'll also be the first mousse – what was it again? – I’ll ever have. It doesn't by any chance involve chocolate, does it?”
Clark's chest rumbled with soft laughter. “No. It’s more akin to lasagna, just with potatoes and eggplants instead of pasta. But I’ll make sure you get your share of chocolate.”
He gave her a brilliant smile and cupped her cheek, trailing his thumb gently over her lips as if there already were some remnants of the promised chocolate dessert left on her lips. His eyes gleamed with a hint of desire. Then he leaned in and kissed her. Soft lips touched hers, without much pressure, undemanding but yet creating a longing deep within her. All too soon he pulled back, his cheeks flushed and his eyes clouded over.
Lois’ heart raced. While she found the idea of her and Clark having dinner and watching a sunset quite appealing, she couldn’t smile back and agree to the plan. Something was off, though she couldn’t even point a finger on what it was exactly. Who wouldn’t dream of flying to some remote beach, having dinner with Superman and listening to the waves? It was an incredibly romantic image.
“You don’t have to take me to fancy places,” she hedged anyway.
She withdrew from his light embrace and pulled back. Suddenly, it dawned on her why she felt so uncomfortable. The last fancy dinner abroad had been with Lex. Lois looked into Clark's eyes. His warm gaze promised he wouldn't pressure her into anything she didn't want.
Why was this such a stumbling block? This was Clark! He wouldn't book a whole restaurant to pamper her into submission. She'd feel comfortable there instead of out of her depth.
“Hey, it's okay if this is too much too soon.” He grasped her hand and ran his thumb across its back. “You told me that you didn't want me to impress you, and I swear I'm not trying to. There's just so much I never had the chance to share with anyone. And now that you know…” He waved his hand to indicate flying and gave her a sheepish smile. “We can always do it another time.”
A rush of warmth went through Lois as he smiled at her, unbothered. She knew guys who'd bristle at how ungrateful she was. But not Clark, never Clark. She still found it hard to wrap her mind around the fact that he was also Superman, that he
could fly them to Greece on a moment's notice.
“Thank you for understanding. I just want us to do something normal first, like watching a movie together and maybe sharing a pizza?”
“Sounds great, too.” He beamed. “Your place or mine?”
“Your couch is more comfortable. I'll come by at seven. So, now that we've settled a date, how about you go write up –”
Lois stopped talking as she realized something had caught Clark’s attention. His eyes had lost their focus as he was listening to something . It was a lot less frustrating now that she knew what his faraway look meant.
“I heard the fire brigade radio,” he muttered. “An apartment building on 47th street is on fire. It's in the Southside. I need to go. By the sound of it this may take a while.”
He gave her a pained smile as his hand moved up to his collar to loosen his tie. Before he darted off, he leaned in and brushed his lips against her cheek in a light kiss.
“See you there,” he whispered.
Then he ran past her and as she turned on her heels, she saw him duck into the next alley.
A moment later a blue and red blur soared right up into the sky. Lois stared at the spot where Clark had vanished and wondered what living with Superman was going to be like. She'd never really pondered the implications of having to share him with the world. He'd seemed too unattainable, the perfect man she could safely love from afar. Even now that she knew, Clark’s gentleness made easy to forget that there was also this other side of him.
With a soft sigh, Lois withdrew her gaze from the spot above the rooftops. If she didn’t want to miss all the excitement, she should get a cab. Turning toward the street, Lois raised her arm. The first cab she spotted didn’t stop, already occupied by someone else. A second one passed her by until, finally, a third pulled in next to her.
***
A huge crowd had gathered around the site of the fire. There were the usual curious onlookers, but also victims covered in soot. Paramedics took care of some of them. A woman with an apron that once might have been red had her arm wrapped around an elderly woman who tried to keep her scared cat from escaping. She saw people staring at the flames with wide eyes, their lips moving in silent prayers, probably waiting for news from their loved ones. Children were crying.
Lois felt her heart clench. She didn’t want to imagine what Clark was forced to see inside that building. She hoped it wasn’t too bad.
The firefighters were busy getting the flames under control. Now and then she spotted Clark, darting in and out of the building to rescue more people. Police officers tried to keep spectators from getting closer to the burning apartment building.
While she was sure that all of these people had stories to tell, heart wrenching ones, or stories of courage, she gave them all a wide berth. As long as the fire was burning, none of them would be willing to talk to her and only a heartless monster would attempt an interview. There was time for that later, when Clark had made sure everyone was safe.
Lois decided to start with the tenants of the shops on the other side of the street, who stood there watching, most likely the best witnesses under the circumstances. She withdrew her notebook from her handbag and got to work.
Between interviews, she checked on Superman. Whenever their eyes met, he had a smile for her, a quiet reassurance that as far as fires went, this wasn't so bad. And each time that happened, she breathed a small sigh of relief.
Still, it took almost an hour until every last person was out of the building or had been accounted for. According to the policemen and firefighters there had been no casualties. The last flames had died down and the firefighters had started packing their equipment. Only one ambulance was still at the scene, the paramedics tending to a few minor injuries that wouldn't require a doctor.
Lois was looking forward to an interview with Superman, but even more to having Clark at her side again so they could continue where they'd left off.
She stuffed her notebook back into her bag and, in her mind, started phrasing her article when suddenly she heard panicked shouts from the crowd. Her head whipped around, expecting to see new flames licking from the windows. But they looked just as lifeless and empty as before, opaque with soot where there were still panes.
Lois shifted her attention back to the crowd. Then she saw the source of the commotion. Her heart skipped a beat as she stared into the barrel of a shotgun, barely more than ten yards from her, and firmly trained on her chest.
“Nooo!” Superman’s shout drowned out the others.
His blue blur slammed into her just as the gun flashed green. It happened all at once. The pain exploding in her forehead, stars blotching her vision. Clark’s face a grimace, eyes wide. The world seemed to stop turning for a moment. She felt Superman’s arms around her when, suddenly, he went limp. His dead weight pulled her with him, crashing into her as they both hit the ground with a heavy thud.
Air rushed out of her lungs, pain shot through her back and head. For a moment, she was stunned. Everything felt numb. Her limbs wouldn’t move though she tried. Her ears were ringing. Gray mist clouded her vision. More shouts echoed through her brain, muffled as if coming from far away. Clark’s body above hers pressed her down and made it hard to breathe.
Her head was spinning.
What had just happened?
She had no idea.
But Clark wasn’t moving.
Panic took hold.
“Clark!” Her breathless cry was barely more than a whisper.
She bit her tongue, remembering too late that she couldn’t call him that. But it
was Clark who lay unmoving above her… Her throat tightened. She couldn’t lose him, not now. She’d barely just found him; they’d barely made up.
Lois gulped for air, her chest struggling to lift his weight. She fought against the terrible sense of suffocation and fear swallowing her.
“Superman!” she managed, louder this time.
He didn't react.
She pushed against his shoulders, both desperate to wake him and fighting to roll him off her. Was
he alive? Did his chest move against hers? Was there even the slightest whiff of air in her face, a twitch of a muscle, any hint that he wasn't dead?
It was getting harder to breathe. She grabbed his shoulders tighter, willing him to stir. Tears streamed down her face.
“Superman,” she cried, her voice but a hushed whisper.
Then, suddenly, his body gave way, rolling off her. Greedily, she sucked in air, feeling dizzy for a moment. Relief washed over her, and she blinked against the tears slipping down her face. Her motions were uncoordinated as she turned, still reeling from the shock, still a bit groggy from their rugged landing. But it wasn’t Clark who looked back at her, grimacing in pain but alive.
She stared into the rather concerned eyes of a firefighter.
“Hey, easy there.” His large hand on her shoulder held her back. “Are you okay?”
She tried to brush his hand off and propped herself up on an elbow, searching for Clark. Her view was blocked by broad shoulders. All she spotted were hints of a red cape and blue spandex, mostly hidden between the back of a paramedic kneeling next to him.
“Superman!” she cried.
“They’re taking good care of him.” The firefighter reassured her.
He pushed her back down, the pressure of his hand gentle but firm. She had no chance but to comply, the fight she was putting up in her mind not translating into superior strength. Still dazed, Lois watched the man pull a gauze pad from somewhere. He pressed it to her forehead, making her wince. Lois fought off his hand, but stilled as she felt the sticky mess in her face.
“It’s just a gash,” the man said softly. “You’re safe now, Miss. Everything’s going to be all right.”
How could anything be all right if Clark was lying there? Lois struggled to sit up again, but the firefighter’s hand was still on her shoulder.
“I need to know how he is,” her voice cracked. “Please, how is Superman?”
The firefighter looked over his shoulder, checking on the paramedics who tended to Superman. As the man stared back at her, he looked deeply troubled.
“Is he breathing?” Her heart thundered in her ears.
She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer, so scared that he might say no or, which might be even more devastating, shake his head. Lois tried to sit up and this time, the firefighter didn’t stop her. His hand around her shoulder steadied her as she worked up the courage to look in Superman’s direction.
She was afraid of what she would find, but it was also impossible not to look. It was pure torture. Trapped in that seventh circle of hell, Lois watched with trepidation. His face was so deathly pale.
“Pulse is faint, but at least the oxygen saturation is getting better,” one of the EMTs said.
He shifted his position, just enough that Lois could see an oxygen mask one of the EMTs had placed over Superman’s mouth and nose, fogging with every breath he took.
“Any idea what this green beam was?” the firefighter asked.
“Dunno,” the EMT said thickly. “Never thought I'd see Superman go down.”
“Green beam?” Faint memories of the attack fought their way back to Lois’ consciousness. “Kryptonite! Someone fired on him with kryptonite.”
The world came crashing down on her. If Clark's state was the result of kryptonite exposure, it must have really hit him hard. She'd seen him with a bullet in his shoulder, after the long-term exposure on Spencer's island, and poisoned with ingested kryptonite. He'd still been awake then.
But now, he wasn’t moving at all, the fogging oxygen mask the only indication that he was still alive. His color was still a sickly gray. And each passing second with no improvement increased her fear. Helplessly, she watched the paramedics as they loaded Superman onto a stretcher.
She wanted to go with them. She wanted to hold Clark’s hand and tell him that he was going to be better. Perhaps, if she talked to him, he’d find the strength to come back to her. Perhaps, she could help! Lois scrambled to her feet, desperate to follow the paramedics as they brought him to their ambulance, but the firefighter held her back.
“You stay here, young lady,” he said. “There's another ambulance on its way for you.”
“But I'm fine,” Lois protested. She made another attempt at getting up. But the world spun around her, and she sagged back, the strong arm of the firefighter keeping her from toppling over.
“Easy there,” he said gently. “That gash on your forehead needs stitches. And I wouldn't be surprised if you have a concussion. You hit your head quite hard.”
“But Superman is my friend,” she cried. “He saved my life. I have to help him, somehow.” She tried to get up again, but the firm hand of the firefighter pressed her back into a sitting position.
“The paramedics are taking good care of him,” he repeated.
***
“Is… Superman… still here?” Lois managed between gasps for air, still breathless from her sprint here.
Her head was pouding in tune with her racing heart. She looked toward the clock on the wall behind S.T.A.R. Labs’ reception. Hours had passed since the attack, many hours she’d spent waiting for stitches, and for Henderson who’d insisted on interviewing her. The inspector had asked for every little detail she remembered. In return she’d nagged him about Superman, but it had taken a lot of convincing until the cagy inspector had revealed anything beyond telling her that Superman was still alive and under care at S.T.AR. Labs.
The guard took his sweet time to acknowledge her presence. “Who wants to know that?”
She felt the strong urge to grab him by his lapels and shake an answer out of him. But she clenched her hands into fists and took a steadying breath.
“My name is Lois Lane and Superman-”
“Lois Lane, from the Daily Planet?” the man asked.
“Yeah, but-”
“I’m sorry, Miss,” he said in a no-nonsense voice that told Lois this wasn’t his first rodeo. “I’m not allowed to comment on anything concerning Superman. As far as I know, there will be a press release later. Would you please leave this facility now?”
The man’s eyes bore into her, and his hand drifted toward the phone on his desk, hovering above the receiver in a silent warning that he’d call for help if she didn’t comply.
Lois opened her mouth to say something else, but she didn’t know what. Her head was still throbbing. The man’s brows furrowed, and his hand came to rest on the receiver, leaving little doubt he would make good on his threat. The last thing she wanted was to spend more time at the police station than she already had. Letting out a huff of frustration, she turned on her heels and stormed out of the building.
Her retreat would only be a temporary she vowed to herself, to sort her thoughts and collect her arguments. She’d come back and convince the guard to let her inside, all she needed to do was figure out how.
The sinking sun blinded her as she stepped out of the building. She shielded her eyes with her hand and looked around. The square in front of S.T.A.R. Labs was nearly empty; only an old man left the other end of the building, dragging his feet and adjusting his cap. He wore baggy pants and a shirt. He rested for a moment, with his back against the wall, seeming relieved to call it a day. The poor guy was probably working well beyond retirement age. Her heart went out to him. Part of her brain filed the image away as something to further investigate, once this was over.
A stray thought that had nothing to do with her current problem. Lois grimaced, aware that she still had trouble concentrating on anything.
A story like that was just the kind of fluff piece Clark would excel at.
Her throat tightened as she thought about Clark, who was lying inside that building and probably fighting for his life.
How was she going to explain to the guard that Superman had asked her to marry him, that she’d be his next of kin if only she’d said yes? If Clark were here as himself, she might stand a chance. But inside that building was Superman, carefully guarded after the attack on his life. And all she knew was that S.T.A.R. Labs resident expert on the superhero was trying to save him.
A tear slipped down her cheek. She’d told herself that she was only going to adjust her strategy, but she lacked the strength to fight her way through yet more defensive lines. The doc at Metropolis General had said she probably had a mild concussion. Lois felt wiped out after all the verbal sparring it had taken just to find out where Superman was and if he was even still alive.
After the emotional roller coaster ride she’d been through, all she wanted to do was cry and hide away in bed.
One moment, they’d been planning a date, the next Clark was at the brink of death. And instead of being at his side and holding his hand, she’d been sidelined. An annoying journalist of many, condemned to wait for the press release. Lois squeezed her eyes shut and let out a shuddering breath. Then she clenched her hands into tight fists. She wouldn’t have it. She refused to stay clueless, a victim to circumstances beyond her control. She was going to fight her way to Clark if she had to.
Once more turning on her heels, Lois stomped back inside, her stomach churning.
She stuck out her chin in defiance, crossing her arms in front of her chest and doing her best to look intimidating even though she was about half the guard’s size.
“Look, Mister,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster. “I’m Superman’s friend. I’m not here for an interview or to write an article. All I want to know is how he is doing, how-”
The guard got up from his chair straightening to an impressive height. “I told you: no comment. Leave this facility now before I call the police.”
Lois shook her head, her chest heaving with every breath she took. “I’m not going to leave, until I’ve spoken to Dr. Klein.”
“He’s not available for interviews, Ms. Lane.” The guard replied. “This is my last warning. I’ll call security and let them escort you out of the building and then I’ll call the police.”
Lois made a few steps further into the building, acting bolder than she felt. “Be my guest. I’ll find the way on my own.”
Before she even had a chance to leap toward the next corridor, she felt a hand on her shoulder. Her heart sank. The security of S.T.A.R. Labs was quicker than anticipated. She turned, tensing to launch an attack on the second guard.
But the man behind her wasn’t a guard. He was wearing a cap, horn-rimmed glasses, and baggy pants – the old man she’d seen outside. But he wasn’t old.
She stifled a gasp.
It was Clark.
“I’m sure they’re taking good care of Superman,” he said softly.
A strained smile played around his lips. His face was pale and drawn, a far cry from his usual olive tanned skin and thousand watts beam. The tired lines around his eyes spoke volumes.
“I told you, they wouldn’t let us through. Come on, partner, let’s get back to the Planet and find out who did this.”
He ran his hand down her shoulder and reached for hers. With a start she noticed how hot and clammy his skin was. Clark turned toward the guard.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically brittle. “We’re just worried about our friend and didn't mean to cause you trouble. We’ll be leaving now.”
“You better,” the guard grumbled.
Any other day she might have given the man a piece of her mind. But Lois was still reeling from Clark’s unexpected return. Blood was rushing in her ears, and she grabbed his hand tighter, too numb to say anything. She followed him out of the building, dying to pull him into an embrace, but not quite able to believe he was here with her. He wasn’t dead. Exhaustion marred his features, but he was breathing and talking to her.
“Clark!” She almost choked on the word as she finally found her voice again.
Her arms unfroze and she closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and burying her face in the crook of his neck. He almost lost his balance.
“Careful,” he mumbled.
But he eased into the hug, sagged into it more likely, until it was hard to tell who steadied whom. So close to her ear, his breathing sounded labored. He winced with ever move.
She pulled back a little and studied him more carefully. “How are you?”
“Been better,” he admitted. He opened his lips to say something else, but then his gaze drifted toward the band-aid above her brow. “What about you? How did this-”
His eyes widened. He ran his index finger along the intact skin next to the stitches before he pulled the hand toward his own chin. Understanding dawned in his expression and he averted his gaze.
“This is my fault,” he said soberly.
“No, Clark!” She framed his face and made him look at her again. “You saved my life! You were nearly killed. It’s not your fault! And it doesn’t really hurt anyway. It’s nothing!”
He pursed his lips. “It’s not nothing if someone tried to kill you. I want to know who did this.”
He backed away, turning to walk further away from S.T.A.R. Labs, toward one of the bigger streets where they might be able to find a cab.
“I do, too.” Lois said quietly.
With a few quick steps she caught up to him and eyed him from the side, taking in his slumped shoulders and heavy steps. Her headache intensified, just to remind her that she wasn’t on top of her game either. But Clark was infinitely worse off. He walked stiffly, fighting just to set one foot in front of the other. Sweat was dripping from his face and soaking his shirt. Once or twice he swayed and regained his equilibrium just in time before taking a nose-dive. She didn’t know how she was supposed to pick him up, should he fall. She feared Clark might not even make it to the cab, let alone home. Why had Dr. Klein even let him go in this condition?
She grabbed his hand to hold him back. “You look like hell. Shouldn’t you have stayed and rested a bit more? Dr. Klein could-”
“There’s not much Dr. Klein can do,” Clark replied. “He tried to hook me up on sunlamps, but other than giving me the first sunburn of my life, they didn’t do much. I was unconscious for a few hours. When I woke up, Dr. Klein told me that for the time being the kryptonite laser completely disrupted my ability to absorb sunlight and transform it into energy. According to him, it might take a while until I will be back to normal. If he can’t speed up the process, I don’t see why I should stay. Besides, you don’t look too good, either.”
She wanted to tell him that there was a huge difference between having a mild concussion and almost being killed. Couldn’t he see that he had trouble even staying on his feet? Was this some guy thing, his pride getting in the way of sensible behavior? Or was he - and her throat constricted at the thought - was he angry with her because saving her had almost cost his life this time?
She clenched her hands into tight fists and fought the tears threatening to spill. How could he not be angry? If she started to argue with him now instead of thanking him, she might deliver the last straw that would break the camel’s back.
“We both probably need some rest,” Lois amended. “Let’s get you home.”
“You first.” His warm brown eyes drifted over her features, so full of love and concern. “Your place is closer.”
She shook her head. Now wasn’t the time for chivalry. It was obvious he needed to lie down much more than she did. Besides, she couldn’t stand the thought of leaving him out of her sight. In fact, she wanted much more.
“I don't want to sleep alone tonight,” Lois whispered hoarsely. A chill ran down her spine and she wrapped her coat a little tighter around herself. She longed for his warmth, she needed to feel his chest rising against hers. She swallowed. “I want you to hold me.”
He stared back at her, his gaze flitting toward the dressing on her forehead. Once again, she saw pain in his eyes, a flash of guilt. She could practically see the wheels in his mind turn, an inner struggle as he fought his own demons. But then something shifted. He brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and nodded.
“Your place or mine?” he asked roughly.
“Yours.” Lois released a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. “But could we please stop by at my apartment so I can get some fresh clothes?”
“Of course.” A real smile spread across his lips.
***
“Do you need anything else?” Clark’s head appeared the opening between living room and bedroom.
His eyes were firmly closed, though she'd already pulled down her shirt. Such a boy-scout, Lois thought and her heart swelled with love for him. It almost irked her that he didn’t at least sneak a peek. After all, he’d asked to marry her.
She bit back a laugh. “Relax, Clark, I'm dressed.”
He made another step into the room, now looking at her full of concern as he waited for her answer. Once more she felt his gaze on her, coming to rest above her brow. Then he averted his eyes, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his pants and shuffling his feet. He bit his lower lip and his jaw worked as if he could barely keep himself from apologizing – again – though she must have told him three times already that there was no need. He’d saved her life. If anyone should apologize…
She pushed back the thought and smiled at him, desperate to regain a sense of normalcy between them.
“Thanks, I have everything I need.”
Except for you, she thought. The words were on her lips. As she watched him struggle for a position to keep his arms in, she pondered actually saying them. She longed to kiss him and pull him into a tight embrace. She wanted, no, she needed to feel his chest rising against hers and taste the sweetness of his mouth. When she’d seen him again at S.T.A.R. Labs she’d been too stunned to kiss him.
Now he was so distant that it seemed she couldn't get through the walls he was building up around himself.
Perhaps she should say it, but she was afraid to dissolve into tears if she did. Her falling apart wasn’t going to help Clark, she feared. It was only going to increase his anxiety. She’d rarely seen him quite so restless.
There had to be some way to distract him from his completely illogical sense of guilt.
“Are you coming to bed now?” she asked.
His eyes widened, but he didn’t reply. He ran a shaky hand through his hair and opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. Lois winced as she realized the invitation sounded less than innocent. And Clark certainly wasn’t in the mood for taking their relationship toward the next level even if, at the moment, she could think of no better way to prove to him how much he meant to her. She ached to hold him and feel his warmth against her body, physical proof that he was still alive, that she hadn’t lost him.
Feeling flustered by her own boldness, she added. “You look exhausted.”
Clark shuffled his feet. “I’d really love to take a shower first. Maybe it’s going to help with the sore muscles.”
She bit her lip. “Of course.”
Her heart went out to him. He hadn’t said anything, but he was probably still in pain. She didn’t know much about the aftereffects of kryptonite exposure since Clark tended to just shrug it off. As she watched him leave, his motions slow and stiff, she couldn’t quite shake the unease. A nagging voice in the back of her mind wondered if he wasn’t angry with her rather than ridden by guilt.
She listened to his heavy steps as he dragged his feet toward the bathroom and felt terribly alone in his bedroom. Her throat tightened and she wrapped her arms around herself. Clark was alive, she told herself. He hadn’t died from the blast. However, something was missing. A shiver ran down her spine.
As she heard the door behind him, she couldn't take it any longer and followed Clark. Lois pressed her ear to the door, a lump building in her throat as she listened to his grunts. A sudden, dull thud made her flinch.
She opened the door, finding Clark on his knees. Lois rushed to his aid, steadying him as he scrambled back to his feet. Only as her hands closed around his arm and her face was mere inches from his bare chest did she realize that Clark was half naked. With trembling legs, he sank down on the toilet seat and rested his head in his hands.
“Thanks,” he muttered, cheeks flushed. “I hate being so weak.”
Lois swallowed hard. “I'm so sorry.”
“I'm not,” he said thickly. “The alternative doesn't bear thinking about. If I hadn't been there in time…” He reached out and cupped her cheek. “I'm just glad you're okay, or mostly okay anyway.”
His gaze flitted to the spot above her brow that seemed to draw his eyes like a magnet. He bit his lip.
“Snap out of it, Clark. It's just a scratch.”
He looked back at her with a rueful expression. “It just reminds me that I can't keep you safe, even less so with my powers gone.”
She dipped her head, resting her forehead against his. “They will return.”
“Yeah, but when?” His jaw worked in frustration.
“This must be hard for you, but give it some time. Come to bed, you look like you could use a decent night's sleep.”
He nodded, reluctantly. “Go ahead. I might take a while to get changed.”
She wanted to ask him if he needed help. But he looked so tense that Lois figured he might have suffered enough humiliation for one day. So she just kissed his forehead, before she turned to leave.
“Call if you need anything.”
“I'll be fine.”
She didn't want to leave him alone, but she sensed that he'd prefer a bit of privacy, so she went anyway.
Back in the bedroom, Lois slipped under his covers. She inhaled the soft scent of his aftershave that clung to his linens and listened to the quiet grunts coming from the bathroom.
When she closed her eyes, the horrible images returned with a vengeance, his pale face, the oxygen mask over his nose. She felt the chill of fear as she’d waited for him to move, the long hours of not knowing how he was. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she squeezed them tight, forcing herself to breathe slowly. His moans reached her ear, reminding her that he was still alive but also that he was hurt because he'd saved her life.
Lois wrapped the blanket tighter around herself and tried not to listen as her own guilty conscience told her that of all the men in her life, Clark would have the most solid reason to run away screaming. It was a miracle he’d not already left.
But even though he was acting aloof, he was still here - probably just hurting and too tired to muster the strength for a longer conversation. He’d come to bed with her and wrap his arms around her, she’d fall asleep snuggled against his chest. Once they were both rested, they’d really talk.
In the warmth of his bed, with his soft scent soothing her, exhaustion won over and sleep sneaked up on her before Clark slipped under the covers.
The night was filled with terrible dreams of Clark dying in her arms, old nightmares that returned to her and new ones that painted the day’s events in horrible pictures. As Lois woke up with a gasp, her body strangely numb and tingling, as if it didn’t really belong to her, daylight filtered through the windows.
She lay still for a while, trying to get her breathing back under control. It took her a moment to realize where she was. The awfully long wait for news on Superman, Clark’s apartment, a dinner spent in awkward silence. Images of her nightmares snuck up on her and once again her heart was beating hard and fast. She turned her head, suddenly in desperate need to see Clark.
But the bed beside her was empty.
With a jolt, she sat straight. Where was he? She didn’t remember if he’d slipped under the covers beside her. But she’d eaten dinner with him, listened to him taking a shower. That had happened, hadn’t it? Or were the nightmares reality and his return the dream that couldn’t possibly repeat itself because what were the odds of beating death twice? Even for Superman?
“Clark!” she cried.
Lois nearly tumbled out of bed as she disentangled herself from the covers and began a hasty search through his apartment. But he wasn’t there, neither in the living room, nor the bathroom, nor on his balcony trying to catch the first rays of sunlight. She looked in every last corner, at odd places, so desperate to find him that logic took a backseat to her manner of searching. But the result stayed the same, even as she turned on both the tv and the radio in a last-ditch effort though she’d little hope his powers had returned to him and Superman was out saving the world.
At wit’s end and lacking the strength to continue her search, she finally sank down at his kitchen table. His keys were still there, sitting in the middle. She didn’t remember putting them there. But it was getting harder to keep the irrational fears at bay. Walking up in Clark's bed should suffice to convince her that she hadn't dreamed him up last night.
But the arguments became less convincing with the nightmarish memories creeping back up on her. Lois buried her face in her hands and stilled. From the corner of her eyes, she had spotted a sheet of paper under his keys, the place too obvious for her to immediately notice it in her current state of mind.
She sat back straight and took the letter.
Lois,
I couldn't sleep. I'm so sorry for leaving you though I promised I'd hold you in my arms. Believe me, I wanted to. But knowing that there's someone out there who wants to kill you… Superman can no longer keep you safe, but perhaps I can.
I need to try.
Love you.
Clark She stared at his words, the handwriting not quite as neat as usual - a dead giveaway that he'd written the note in a hurry. Lois wasn't sure if she was relieved or worried. More than anything this letter proved that Clark was still alive, that he cared about her more than anyone she'd ever known.
He'd been dead on his feet, stiff and achy after his ordeal. Yet he put her safety first. But how did he not realize that the attack had been meant for him? Surely, if anyone intended to kill her, they wouldn't go to the trouble of building a kryptonite laser? Or had they just made sure Superman wouldn't step in to save her?
Anyway, she needed to find Clark and see to it that he rested.
Infused with renewed energy, Lois got to her feet and got dressed after a quick stop-over in the bathroom.
She was almost at the door when someone knocked. Clark had left his keys here. Was he coming back?
“Clark!” Her heart did a flip-flop.
She hastened up the stairs, but soon realized that the salt and pepper hair and tinted sunglasses didn't belong to the man she loved. What was Henderson doing here at this ungodly hour?
Her stomach dropped as she opened the door. “Clark is not here, Bill.”
“I know.” Henderson pursed his lips.
He stuffed his hands deep into the pockets of his coat and for a terrible moment, Lois feared he had bad news. Her heart clenched. But before she could ask what was going on, Henderson continued.
“He sent me here to pick you up. Asked me to have your apartment searched since there was an attack on your life, yesterday. Promised me a flaming article in the Planet about the incompetence of Metropolis' finest. Seems like he learned a thing or two from you.” A wry smile played around his lips.
Lois blinked. Clark had done what? That didn't sound like her partner at all. On the other hand, why would Henderson lie to her?
“Clark is overreacting,” Lois replied, dazed.
“Oh, I don't know.” Henderson shrugged. “It seems like he found a connection to someone who got convicted because of your articles.”
Lois raised a brow. “Who?”
“One Floyd Huffman,” he said. “You can ask Kent about the details later. However, the description fits with witness accounts. And considering what he did to Superman I'm willing to give Clark the benefit of the doubt.”
Despite his earlier gruffness, Lois realized Henderson was worried. She unfolded her arms, feeling a bit at a loss. She wanted to get to the Planet as soon as possible, but she also didn't want Henderson to snoop through her apartment all on his own.
“So, what now?”
Henderson’s jaw twitched. “I suggest we get this over with. You have a key to this place?”
“Clark left it on the kitchen table.”
She frowned. Plain for her to see. So obvious that she'd completely overlooked his letter. He'd already had this planned when he'd left. Which according to his note had been shortly after she'd fallen asleep. Had he been impatient to call Henderson or had he pestered the inspector right in the middle of the night?
Lois gathered her things and followed Henderson to his car. They drove in silence since the inspector had never been the talkative type and Lois was too preoccupied with Clark's strange behavior to waste a thought on asking all the right questions. And with the investigation still pending, there was little chance of getting answers anyway.
Henderson had ordered a team to Lois' apartment. As soon as she handed over her keys, they started searching the place, turning everything upside down.
Lois watched them with trepidation, feeling torn. She wanted to do something, but Henderson had made it clear that he expected her to let his people do the job. And on some level, she understood his reasoning - and Clark’s. But what did they expect to find here that she wouldn’t? She hated being sidelined, and most of all it drove her nuts to stand by and watch others investigate while she sat idly. She needed to know how Clark was doing. She wanted to help him get the bad guy arrested, so he could catch a break. But she couldn’t bring herself to leave while Henderson’s people messed with her apartment.
So, Lois was forced to wait, filled with nervous energy she couldn’t spend and sick with worry that Clark might exhaust himself.
A voice pulled Lois from her musings. “Found something.”
She looked up to see who had spoken. One of Henderson’s men stood in the doorway, holding a plastic bag with letter in it.
“This was in Ms. Lane’s mailbox, no envelope,” the officer continued. “It reads like whoever attacked Superman wrote it.”
Henderson’s frowned and dropped whatever he was doing. With a few large strides he crossed the room and took the letter. Lois stood up as well, both anxious and intrigued. Her stomach clenched with a sense of unease.
She barely managed to keep her voice steady. “What does it say?”
Henderson didn’t reply. For a moment, he didn’t seem to move but for his eyes that skimmed the text and his lips that became tighter with every line. Seconds stretched and Lois’ anticipation grew to the point where she was ready to snatch the letter from Henderson’s hands and find out for herself. Just when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, the inspector looked back at her, a deep frown creasing his features.
“When you make enemies, you really go the whole nine yards.”
Lois took the letter he held out for her. It looked like a classic ransom note, words cut from papers and glued to the page. But they held no demand, just a threat.
<You will suffer, Lane. I’ll take everything you love from you. Killing Superman is just the first step.> The letters swam before her eyes. Blood was rushing in her ears. Someone had tried to kill Clark to get back at her. Her legs felt like rubber and her whole body turned numb.
Henderson’s voice seemed to come from far away. “Any idea what this guy wants from you?”
Lois shook her head. The name Henderson had mentioned earlier meant nothing to her. But the angry words of the letter glared back at her, sending a shudder down her spine. She’d faced death threats before. In fact, she’d narrowly escaped several attempts on her life. But never before had someone threatened to kill people she loved. And the man she loved most was currently powerless and vulnerable like any other person. Her breath caught as it dawned on her that Clark might be next on that list.
“I need to get back to the Daily Planet and find out who is behind this,” she whispered.
Her hands trembled as she gave Henderson the sheet. Suddenly, she couldn’t get out of her apartment fast enough. But Henderson wouldn’t have it, so she was forced to watch until everything had been put back in place and every officer had filed out. And with every passing second, she was dying a little inside.
If only Clark was still all right.
***
The newsroom was buzzing with activity as Lois finally made it to the Daily Planet. Henderson would have liked to escort her back to Clark's place, because he figured she would be safer there. But she hadn't let him win the argument. Lois wasn’t looking forward to the fight she knew she was going to have with Clark. But she needed to know how he was doing.
As she walked down the ramp, she found him asleep at his desk, head lying on piles and piles of folders. Some had already clattered to the floor; others were dangerously close to the edge. A half empty mug of coffee sat forgotten in a corner of the uncharacteristic mess her usually so neat partner had created.
Jimmy approached Clark, carrying another huge stack of papers and set it down on one edge. As he noticed Lois, he nodded toward the sleeping man and gave a slight roll of his eyes.
“You need to put a stop to this,” he whispered. “Whatever he’s doing, C.K. must have been here all night. When I came in, he sent me on errand after errand. I asked him what was going on, but he wouldn’t say. He insisted he was fine, but clearly he is not. What’s going on? I’ve never seen him like this.”
Truth be told, she hadn’t either. The night before, she’d sensed his guilt when he’d walked through his apartment like a caged animal. She’d been worried when Henderson had told her about Clark’s strange behavior. But she’d never expected to see him work until he succumbed to exhaustion. He’d always helped her find a balance when she’d been too deeply involved in a story.
Lois heaved a sigh. “Clark took the attack on Superman and me pretty hard.”
She hadn't realized how hard until now.
Understanding dawned on Jimmy’s face, before his brows creased in a worried frown. “Do you know how Superman is?”
“Alive,” she whispered. “But I’m afraid it will be a while before we’ll see him again.”
Lois looked past Jimmy’s shoulder. Clark was snoring softly, oblivious to their presence. His position didn’t look comfortable. Could he get taught muscles or did his invulnerability protect him of such mundane problems? Well, in any case he’d soon find out what that felt like.
“If you see him, will you tell him to get better soon?” Jimmy asked.
Lois nodded. “I’ll make sure he knows. Thanks, Jimmy. I’ll see to it that Clark takes a break.”
With one last look at his sleeping friend, Jimmy dropped the pile of folders on Clark’s desk and left them alone. Lois put a hand on Clark’s shoulder and gave him a gentle squeeze.
“Wake up,” she said softly. “Time to get you home.”
It took a little shaking until he stirred. His motions were sluggish. He looked at her, blinking his eyes in confusion. Then, suddenly, he sat straight and adjusted his glasses.
“What are
you doing here, Lois?” Every single muscle in his body went rigid with alarm. He jumped up from his chair and grabbed her arm as if he wanted to drag her back to his apartment. “I told Henderson to keep an eye on you, I-”
“Relax, Clark.” Lois pulled her arm from his grasp. “Every single police officer is looking for that guy. Henderson has two men down in the lobby. I doubt the guy’d risk an attack here.”
Deflated, Clark sank back on his chair, his wariness catching up with him again. He ran a hand through his hair, then rubbed his eyes.
Lois sat down on the edge of his desk and laid a hand on his shoulder. “It’s
you who should go home and get some rest.”
He shook his head. “I’m fine.”
“You fell asleep at your desk,” Lois pointed out. She lowered her voice so only he would hear her. “You almost got killed yesterday. Cut yourself some slack.”
His jaw worked. “And risk losing you? Again?”
The raw pain in his eyes cut her to the quick and let her breath catch in her throat. This wasn't just about yesterday. Lois opened her mouth to tell him that whoever this guy was, he wasn’t after her per se, but intended to hurt the people around her. But then she bit her lip, suddenly not sure it would really help Clark to know there were even more people at risk.
She heaved a sigh as she realized that even if she could force Clark to take a break, he probably wouldn’t be resting until he’d made sure she was safe. Her best chance to help him was to be by his side and find out who was responsible for the attack.
“Okay, partner, tell me what you've got,” she relented. “The sooner we find this guy, the sooner you'll get some sleep.”
Clark relaxed, if only a bit, and a faint smile worked its way between the tired lines around his eyes. Then he brought her up to speed.
***
Several days passed with little change.
They worked hard on finding possible suspects beside the main one, a weapon engineer Lois had brought down before she'd even met Clark. He'd invested his whole fortune into a small enterprise that had developed weapons for the special demands of criminal organizations, terrorist groups and all other sorts of scum. They’d loved him for his inventions, designed to get past security or to make the lives of ballistics experts more difficult. But Lois had gotten one of his customers to talk and Floyd Huffman had lost both his fortune and his freedom.
But no matter how close they were getting, Clark remained tense and aloof.
Lois had never seen Clark this dedicated to an investigation. He forgot to eat, he barely slept and each afternoon she had to drag him out of the Daily Planet or he would have stayed there day and night. From time to time he'd just nod off at his desk, but as soon as she woke him up, he insisted on being rested and went on. When they made it home, Clark just continued to work his way through files, folders, and every tiny hint about his past that could give them an idea on where to find Huffman until he practically dropped unconscious. But even then he never managed more than a few, short hours of fitful sleep on his couch. Lois’ attempts to get him into bed had failed more or less and when she woke up, he’d already left for work.
Tonight wasn’t any different. Clark had spent the better part of the day meandering through the city in a desperate attempt to find Huffman. His hearing had finally returned and so he’d tried to use that to his advantage while Henderson and his men had promised to check a list of possible hideouts Clark had found. Using what little of his powers he’d regained, had taken a toll on him, though he refused to admit it.
As she was working by his side, she saw his eyelids droop. Once or twice, his head had sunken on his chest and he’d flinched, sitting back straight and taking the next paper to peruse. Lois watched him with mixed feelings. She had tried to be understanding, figuring that he just needed time to get things into perspective. But the situation was wearing on her patience, though she understood that Clark was just hurt and frustrated by his own weakness. But why did he have to be so stubborn?
Once more, Clark’s head dropped on his chest. She felt a flash of hope that, for tonight, he was done. But his eyes snapped open once more, he pulled the next paper on his lap and started to read.
“You should go to bed,” Lois said softly.
Her own legs were numb from sitting cross-legged for the past few hours and she got up stiffly. Clark muttered something unintelligible, but didn’t look up at her. Her anger rose. She’d tried to humor him long enough. At first his behavior had merely worried her, but now she was downright scared. There was a rift between them she didn’t know how to describe.
It wasn’t like Clark didn’t acknowledge her at all. Whenever their eyes met, he still smiled at her, though it often crumbled when his gaze flitted to her forehead. The small moments of magic between them had turned into rare gifts. In the space of a few days, he’d changed a lot.
For the most part, he was preoccupied and moody. He barely talked and when he did, it was about work. When he wasn’t working, he was sleeping, at his desk, on the couch and once she’d found him sprawled across the spiral staircase in his apartment.
As she looked at him again, the folder he was working on dropped from his hand, but once more he fought against sleep that so obviously wanted to claim him.
“Clark!” Lois said, louder this time. “Take a break!”
She closed the distance between them and snatched the folder from his hands. He stared back at her, puzzled.
“What is going on with you?” she cried. “I barely recognize you anymore!”
His eyes clouded over. “I need to find this guy before he hurts anyone else, before he has a chance to hurt you again.”
She sat down next to Clark and laid a hand on his back. “Henderson has his every man out to find this guy and he will. I’ve been in danger before and you’ve never freaked out like this.”
“I’ve never felt this helpless before,” Clark mumbled. “This guy could attack any time and there’d be nothing I could do to stop him. My powers have only just started to return and it may be a couple of days before I’m anywhere close to a hundred percent. He might not wait that long to strike again.”
Lois took his hand in hers. “He was after Superman, not after me.”
“You don’t know that!” His jaw worked in anger. “And even if it’s true, what better opportunity to make Superman suffer than to kill you right before his eyes, when he’s absolutely helpless to stop it? Look at me, Lois. I can’t even stay awake for more than a few hours at a time, let alone keep anyone from hurting you.”
“Which is why you need to rest, Clark.”
“I can’t,” he whispered. “Every time I close my eyes, I see him point that weapon at you, I feel the kryptonite suck the life out of me and I know he’s going to try again.”
There was a world of hurt behind his eyes. She’d figured that his dreams had revolved around the attack, that each day he was reliving that nightmare just like she did. However, this was the first time he’d really said anything.
Lois sucked in a breath. “I’m so sorry.”
He stared back at her, a puzzled expression on his face. “What for?”
She couldn’t stand to meet his gaze any longer, her own guilt making her stomach clench. “You almost got killed saving me, you lost your powers and even after days you’re still recovering.”
He reached out and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, his eyes simmering with love. It was the first time in days he didn’t just touch her in passing. She’d started to believe that he might never look that way at her again..
“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I’m just glad that I haven’t lost you there. If I hadn’t been in time…” He swallowed hard and once again his gaze drifted toward the band-aid above her brow.
Lois rested her head against his. “It’s just a scratch and not your fault.”
“I know.” His words lacked any conviction. He heaved a small sigh. “I know.”
Clark cracked a weak smile and picked up the folder. He flipped through the pages and took a pen, getting ready to work again. Lois laid a hand on his, meaning to pull the folder out of his grasp, but before she had a chance to take it away, the phone rang.
Clark leaned over toward his phone and took the call. “Hello?”
Lois inched closer to listen in, but all she could hear was Henderson’s voice. His words didn’t make much sense. The call was short. Clark listened, nodded, thanked Henderson and hung up.
Clark looked back at Lois. “They managed to arrest Huffman.”
“That’s great!” Lois beamed.
“Yeah,” Clark said flatly.
He dropped the folder and rested his head against the back of the couch. On the one hand, it seemed like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. But he still appeared rather subdued, as if he was wrestling with something. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Perhaps he was just worn out after so many days. Lois hoped it was just that.
“Come on, partner, we should celebrate this with a slice of pizza!” Lois said, trying to sound more cheerful than she felt.
She remembered how it had all started, with a debate about the perfect place for a date. Right about now, she’d really love to go to that Greek island Clark had suggested all these days ago. Getting away from it all, or maybe just eating pizza and watching a movie sounded wonderful. Perhaps a good night’s sleep and a bit of cuddling on his couch would get Clark out of his foul mood.
Or maybe not, when a moment later, his glasses slipped from his hand and he was fast asleep. Lois watched the sleeping man with tenderness and a bit of trepidation. Something told her that this wasn’t over yet.
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