Previous Fic in Series: Disaster
Series ToC-----
I'm Sorry, LoisAs soon as the phone started to ring, Lois’ hand flashed away from the steering wheel and started groping for her purse. It had fallen onto the floor of the passenger side, but she managed to grab it and fish the phone out before it rang again. The truck behind her blared its horn as she finally hit the button to answer. “Hey. What's happening?”
After a slight delay filled with the now-familiar crackling due to the distance involved, she heard an unexpected but very welcome voice. “...Hello?”
“Clark!” A tension she hadn't even been fully aware of finally left her shoulders. It had been hours since Clark had left for Australia against the advice of his doctor, his parents, and his wife. Now, every news outlet in the world was exploding with confused rumors about Superman, and getting accurate information had been difficult even for someone with Batman's phone number. “Clark, Honey, are you okay?”
His reply was halting and uncertain. “Uh…I…think so? I think I've been arrested…”
“What?!” More cars honked as she nearly missed her turn.
She could faintly make out Bruce's voice in the background. “You weren't arrested. We ducked into the police car so we could talk privately, remember?”
“Oh,” came Clark's hesitant reply. “Um, who are you?”
She couldn't quite hear Bruce's answer over the static.
Her grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Clark, how are you feeling?”
“He keeps asking about my oxygen,” her husband complained, “and he won't shut up about some ‘target’ I'm supposed to find!”
Lois shook her head and changed lanes. “It's okay, Honey. Can you give the phone to Bruce for a minute?”
She could almost hear the frown. “Who?”
“The man next to you,” she answered patiently.
After a moment, she heard Bruce's gruff voice more clearly than before. “Lois, I’m—Clark, please stay in the car—going to fly him home while the others keep dealing with the ongoing situation here.”
“Fly?” she echoed. “You mean in an airplane?”
“I cannot confidently recommend the alternative,” Bruce replied.
Lois thought for a moment. “What about having Barry run with him?”
The phone crackled again. “Having Barry escort him on foot would potentially be faster, but would also pull a highly effective operant away from the situation here. My plan is the best solution for the League and the second best option for Clark.”
She frowned. “Clark never did well with planes. Most of it might be childhood trauma from his spaceship; I don't know how much of that is left since…well. But besides that, I think the engines bother his ears.”
“I will take that under advisement,” Bruce replied. “What's the situation there?”
Lois sighed. “A lot of questions, but no real answers. People are pretty sure that Superman is back from the dead somehow, but they can tell something's wrong.” She finally pulled into the driveway and shut the ignition. “...I had to tell Jimmy the truth.”
“Oh?”
In the background, she heard Clark ask “Who's Jimmy?”
“Jimmy's been a close friend for a long time,” she replied, knowing Clark would hear her. “He's the only one left at the Planet who knows that Superman first appeared shortly after Clark moved to Metropolis. He also seems to be the only one to notice that Clark's “accident” happened around the time Superman died in space.”
She shouldered her purse, and her voice automatically lowered as she exited the car. “That brief clip we got from Australia clinched it; he recognized that Clark was starting to have a seizure and put all the dots together.”
“I see.”
“Perry would be proud of him,” she continued, reaching for the door of the brownstone. “I just hope that no one else—What on Earth?!” Lois stared into the house, her jaw hanging open. Bouquets of red roses were piled onto the coffee table and in every corner, on every piece of furniture that had a scrap of reasonably flat surface. A few even lay on the couch. She gasped, and the air was completely perfumed with them.
“I take it you just arrived home?” Bruce noted.
Her two older children came running from the kitchen with yet more roses, held in their hands and wreathed around their heads like the king and queen of May. “Mommy! Mommy, lookit!”
It took her a moment to remember the phone in her hand. “Bruce, why is my house suddenly the inside of a florist’s shop?!”
Bruce's deep sigh was barely audible over the static. “Because I could have sent him back as soon as he got here, but I didn't. And because I could send him back with Barry, but I won't. I chose the many over your husband again, and this time, I did it knowing who was waiting for him at home. I'm sorry, Lois.”
End-----
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