A little piece of fluff, set during the episode "Metallo". Hope you enjoy. A Friend In Need I stop dead as I spot Lois sitting on my front porch. My heart misses a beat only to resume thumping heavily in my chest.
Busted!
The thought has my stomach curl into a tight knot. I can’t breathe.
Much as I love to see Lois, I'm not sure I can deal with her right now. Or with any of the implications of her showing up at my apartment tonight of all nights. For a moment I think about turning on my heels. My knees are too wobbly, the pounding in my head is too blinding to run.
Before I really have a chance to contemplate my options, she stands – arms crossed in front of her chest and tapping her foot. Perhaps that gesture of impatience is just a figment of my imagination. I'm not sure. What I do know is that it will no longer do any good to stay in the shadows.
Stepping out is going to be just as bad. But apparently there is no choice but to take the bull by the horns.
Heaving a sigh, I take the next step and bite back a grunt as that jostles my aching ribs. The world swims before my eyes and I have to blink a few times before the woozy feeling dissipates.
“Lois.” I want to say more but draw a blank.
Too much has happened since I’ve last seen her as Clark. How can I even hope to explain any of it? But the dice is cast, all I can hope to accomplish is limiting the damage already done.
“Where have you been?” The annoyance and urgency in her voice don’t bode well for me. “You need to help me find him!”
“Who?” My battered brain has trouble keeping up with her.
“Who?” Her frown turns my insides to ice. “Superman, of course. Haven't you heard? Corben beat him up pretty badly.”
Oh, I haven’t just heard, I felt.
“And no one has seen him since. We must find him, maybe he needs medical attention, maybe –” Her voice cracks, choked by a sob. “Clark, please, if you have any idea how to contact him…”
I stare at her while the world is spinning around me. I'm not sure if it's because of the concussion I probably have or if I'm just relieved she hasn't guessed the truth yet. Maybe she didn't see the telltale cut above my brow.
If so, I’m afraid that respite will be short-lived.
It doesn't take much for her to see my bruises and draw the right conclusion. I can't stifle a groan. I'm too tired for this, too sore, too humiliated. Throw a pang of anger into the mix as, of course, she's only here because of Superman…
A part of me suddenly wants to shove her out of the way so I can climb the stairs to my apartment and curl into a ball on my bed until the effects of the kryptonite wear off.
“I thought he was your friend!” she cries. Her chest is heaving with all the pent-up frustration she's desperately trying to keep in. “Don't you care?”
“Lois, I…” I don't know what to say to that.
The standard reply would be that I do care, that I met him and that he's a little sore but otherwise fine. It doesn't take more than one step into the light to call my bluff. And there will be hell to pay if she catches me in that lie.
I let out a slow breath. Telling her my secret comes with a whole set of mixed feelings.
“We should talk,” I mutter.
Her frown softens a bit. She relaxes her stance, just enough to indicate she's willing to listen rather than bite my head off.
Gentler she adds, “Have you met Superman?”
I make a humming noise that she may interpret in any which way she wants. Heck, where do I start?
“He's sore, but mostly okay.” That's not exactly a lie.
I see the flash of something across her face. Annoyance? Jealousy? It's hard to tell. And at the moment I'm really too out of it to solve the enigma that is my partner.
She purses her lips. “Why did he leave?”
Well, there was kryptonite, for one.
“He's embarrassed?” I sigh. This is harder than I thought. “Look, can we please take this conversation inside? There's something you should know.”
A spark of interest lights up her eyes. “About Superman?”
My throat constricts. Boy, am I going to do it? Tell her? Now?
“Y…yes.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to ease the pounding headache. Once more I wish she would just leave and give me a chance to have this talk on my own terms – when I feel ready to throw everything on the line.
Realistically, that's not going to ever happen though.
Biting back a grunt, I get my stiff muscles moving again. The flight of stairs has never been such an obstacle.
I feel her hand on my shoulder. “Clark, are you all right?”
Lois' gaze is so full of concern and warmth that my anger melts.
I shrug. “Just stiff and achy. It's been a long day.”
And a painful walk home.
After leaving Lois in that alley, I quickly realized my powers would fail me sooner than I could make it to my apartment. I narrowly avoided any severe injuries when I dropped from the sky behind some dumpsters. Though I might have added some bruises to my already vast collection.
With a trembling hand I pull the key from my pocket and need a few tries to slide it into the hole. I’m not sure if it’s my frayed nerves or the sore muscles. There’s a small chance she will offer me a loophole - that she won’t recognize the cut above my brow as the one Superman sustained during his entirely one-sided fight with John Corben.
But what are the odds against award-winning journalist Lois Lane? Dare I risk it?
I push the door open, still unsure of what to do. Once I’m inside, I let her walk past me - my heart thumping away in my chest and my gut clenching with dread as I switch on the lights.
She turns to look at me, her features now creased with worry rather than anger. “You look terrible.”
Well, I feel terrible, though admittedly a bit better now that she no longer looks at me with daggers in her eyes. Still, that doesn't mean this is the right moment to tell her.
“Are you going to close the door, or are you going to keep standing there?”
I blink as the annoyance in her voice is pulling me back to the present. The frown on her face is back in place, the crossed arms in front of her chest demanding answers.
“Sorry, it’s been a rough day.”
I shut the door behind me. My breath catches in my chest and I feel trapped as if somehow that closed door cuts me off from going back to how things were between us. But I also realize something else – it doesn't matter
when I’m going to tell her. There won't be a perfect moment that will guarantee success.
I just wish I didn't feel like my legs were going to give out any moment.
“So, what's going on?”
The way she purses her lips I know I'm in trouble. I'm not prepared for any of this.
I swallow hard. “Can we please sit?”
Stop stalling, a voice in the back of my mind whispers.
And as I walk toward my couch, I can feel her gaze in the back of my neck. Has she guessed the truth already? Well, I suppose there's no going back either way.
The moment I unceremoniously drop onto the seat, I realize I'm probably not going to stand up again tonight. My energy is spent, not a single ounce of strength in me left to fight. Least of all with Lois.
“So?” She follows me, her eyes narrow, her arms tightly wrapped around herself.
Her gaze flickers and suddenly I realize that under that tough exterior she's just scared. Her hero has taken a rather harsh nose-dive off the pedestal she's put him on.
“There's no need to go looking for Superman,” I mutter. “He's here.”
Kind of.
I slip off my glasses and rub my face before I dare look at her.
She's frozen somewhere between sitting down and jumping up. “He came to you? Where is he? Can I see –” Her gaze flickers back and forth between my bedroom and the cut above my brow; then she drops down next to me. “Come on, don't be ridiculo –”
She's cut off by her jaw dropping.
I can almost see the wheels in her mind turn as the pieces of the puzzle slip into place and add up to a picture that shows one man instead of two.
Silence stretches between us for awkward seconds that could well be hours.
Now that the secret’s out, I don't know what to say or how to feel. I guess I should be worried about her reaction. But everything aches and I feel hot, cold and sweaty with the remnants of a fever.
“Oh my gosh!” Lois opens and closes her mouth like a fish out of water. “You're Superman.”
“Yeah.” Not so super right now. But there's really nothing else to say, except maybe, “I'm sorry. About so many things.”
I take a deep breath and knead my hands.
Her expression is hard to read as she studies me intently, almost as if she’s seeing me for the first time.
With a wave at my face she asks. “How did I not see it?”
I bite my lower lip. “People only see what they want to see. And I didn’t want anyone to know about that side of me.”
She nods, slowly, a myriad of emotions flashing across her face until she schools her features back into an impenetrable mask.
“Not even me?”
I close my eyes and again rub the bridge of my nose. With her it’s so much more complicated than with anyone else. So many aspects to consider, so many layers of hurt and misunderstandings I felt I had to unravel first. But it’s too late now.
“I was going to tell you,” I whisper. “Eventually.”
“How about after you died right in my arms?” Her eyes fill with tears.
“I’m sorry.” I swallow past the lump in my throat and stare at my hands. “If it helps, I’m not proud of the way I handled the situation.”
“Why?” Her voice is thick. “Didn't you trust me?”
I shake my head. “I was confused. I knew my life as Clark was over and I panicked. Everything I had been dreaming of was suddenly gone. In a way I
had died that night and I couldn’t really see past my own grief.”
Spelled out like that it was awfully selfish. I bury my face in my hands and wince at the pain in my sore muscles. Weariness is weighing me down that runs so much deeper than the effects of kryptonite. If I could just close my eyes and sleep it all off – the kryptonite, the conflict with Lois, the lies and deception. In hindsight, it would have been so much easier to entrust her with my secret way earlier, perhaps while I had been trying to convince her of Luthor’s true character. But that’s all water under the bridge, now.
“Why did you fly off after the attack?” she asks, a lot gentler now. “Why didn’t you stay and let us help you?”
I look up at her, surprised by the sudden change in demeanor and I can’t quite stifle the groan as that jostles my still aching ribs and back.
“Geez, even now you’re obviously in pain,” she cries
She throws up her hands before she suddenly jumps up from my couch and storms toward my kitchen. I can hear her rummaging through the fridge. I'm not sure what's going on, but there's no way I can leave her like that, confused and distraught.
With a grunt, I push myself up and follow her. She’s in full Mad-Dog-Lane mode as I enter the kitchen. The door of the freezer is open. Lois has found an empty mold for ice cubes somewhere and, with shaking hands, is trying to fill the mold with water.
It doesn’t take super-hearing to know she’s crying.
“Hey.” I shut off the faucet and gently take the mold from her shaking hands.
With my free arm, I pull her into an embrace. My breath hitches as she sinks against my chest and I half expect her to push me away. She’d have every right to tell me to get lost. I couldn’t blame her if she never wanted to see me again.
“I thought we were friends,” she sobs into my shirt.
“We are,” I mumble.
But I’ve been a pretty lousy one. As I inhale the soft scent of her shampoo and awkwardly pat her back, I feel like the lowest form of life on this planet.
“I… I was afraid things would change between us if you knew.” I admit. “You're the first person I've ever wanted to tell, I just didn't know how.”
My feelings for her, her feelings for Superman… I take a deep breath and try to ignore my longing to get closer and show her just how much she means to me. What I wouldn't give to tilt up her chin a little and seal her quivering lips with a kiss.
“You're burning up, Clark,” she whispers between sobs. “These bruises could use some ice and you don't even have a single package of frozen peas.” She pushes me away and glares at me. “And of course I'm not going to find any bandages, am I?”
I guess I'm back to being yelled at. “No, you're not. I'm sorry.” Heaving a sigh, I close the freezer. I really have no idea how to fix this. “Look, it's okay. I'm fi –”
A dizzy spell catches me completely off guard. I sag against the counter, the world spinning around me like crazy. My headache flares and all I can do is squeeze my eyes tight and breathe through the nausea.
Her arms around my waist keep me upright. It takes a moment for the dizziness to subside. As the world swims back into focus, Lois’ face is only inches from mine. Worry creases her forehead.
“Thanks,” I manage. “I think I'm good now.”
Embarrassed, I lock my legs back under myself and stand straight.
“Don’t you dare tell me you're fine.” Lois frown deepens. “Is this some stupid macho thing? Is it so hard to admit that you need help? Just this once?”
“Lois, I'm –”
“I thought he was going to kill you!” Now her tears spill freely. “And if he had succeeded, I wouldn't even have known I’d also lost my best friend. ”
She looks away, but her pain is evident and cuts right through me.
I put my hands up. “All right, all right, I'm not fine. This Metallo guy did a real number on me. But I will heal, okay? I just need some rest.”
With a shy glance she looks back at me, her gaze drifting over my face and coming to rest on the cut above my brow.
“Why haven't you already healed?” she asks softly. “The wound in your shoulder closed instantly once I had removed the kryptonite.”
“I'm not sure.” I heave a sigh. “But could we please discuss this sitting down?”
She shakes her head. “You should go to bed, Clark.” Once more she wraps an arm around my waist. “Come on, Big Guy.”
“Lois…”
I’m torn.
I relish her presence, her slender frame in my arms, her touch. Every moment she's near me I feel a little closer to my dreams coming true. But it's just not right. I don't need her assistance and I'm not comfortable leaning on her as she urges me to do with each tug toward my bedroom.
I'm about to untangle from her grip, when I see that look on her face - the haunted expression that gives away how worried she truly is. Helping me to my bed might be more for her benefit than mine. And I can relate. Feeling helpless is worse than all my aches combined.
So I give in and lean on her. Together we make it to the bedroom, both panting with the effort as we reach my bed. The walk is more challenging than I thought it would be.
“Thanks,” I mumble.
With a grunt I sink down, trying not to contemplate the even bigger challenge ahead of me. I've got to get rid of not only one but two sets of clothing. Suddenly all I want to do is sleep.
She sinks down next to me and takes my hand. “Are you going to be okay?”
I nod.
Should I tell her that I’ve had worse? That I came so much closer to dying in Luthor’s cage? I have a feeling that is not the sort of information she needs right now.
“It just takes time.” I brush a strand of hair back behind her ear. “How much seems to depend on the amount of kryptonite I was exposed to and the length of exposure. I don't know if this guy was made of the stuff or just carried it. But I'm sure it will wear off.”
She gives me a tight-lipped smile and tears glisten in her eyes. “Promise me to stay away from Corben, Clark. I can't lose you again.”
My heart skips a beat as I realize she just called me Clark. And she looks at me like she rarely does when I'm not dressed as Superman. Like she's really seeing me, like I mean something to her, like I'm not just a friend. It's new and exhilarating and…
Oh, but it's way too early to read anything into it.
What will become of us now that she knows remains to be seen. And I shouldn't get all excited about the pain in her eyes as, clearly, she remembers what could have happened in that alley. What still might happen…
I avert my eyes, my heart twisting in my chest. How I wish I could tell her that she doesn't have to worry, that I will stay out of this. Not just for her sake. I'm scared, too.
Swallowing hard, I face her again.“You know I can't do that.”
Her eyes widen. “But you just said he has kryptonite!” she cries. “You can't win against him.”
“Yeah.” I remember the pain.
My ribs still throb with every breath I take, reminding me just how helpless I was. My back is a solid mass of bruises. If he did that to me, what could he do to Lois?
I take her hand in mine, not for the first time marveling at how small it is. On any other day, I need to be so careful around her. It doesn't take more than one hard squeeze to break it.
She wouldn't stand a chance against Corben. He's as strong as I am, without the years of training it took me to always control my strength. It would not even take any malice on his part to harm the oh-so-fragile human beings we live around.
But he's ruled by rage and I know exactly how much havoc that emotion can wreck.
Bullets can't harm him. At least I managed to break his arm before he knocked me out.
There's really no choice. “If I don't stand up against him, who can?”
“No, Clark.”
But her eyes tell me that she knows I'm right. Her lower lip quivers. Then she throws her arms around me and pulls me into the tightest hug we ever shared. I close my eyes and relish the moment. The ache in my bones seems to fade just because she's here with me and for the first time since Corben’s fist connected with my jaw, I feel myself relax.
Tiredness is still weighing me down like a heavy, comfortable blanket.
“I'm sure we'll find a way to defeat him,” she whispers.
“Yeah, we will.” I can't fight the yawn cracking my jaw. “Tomorrow. I'm beat.”
I hate to let go of her, but I can't keep my eyes open any longer.
“No kidding.” She starts pulling at my shirt and patting my chest. “Come on, let's at least get you undressed."
Too much trouble.
“No, I'm good.” I smile at her and run my finger along her cheek. With her around, that couldn't be more true. “Thank you for looking after me.”
I sink down onto the cushions and close my eyes with a heavy sigh.
“Clark?”
“Mmmhh?”
“Would you mind if I stayed?”
“Not at all.”
The last thing I feel before drifting off is the bed buckling under her weight. Warmth spreads through me as she rests her head on my chest and snuggles just a bit closer. Soft lips touch my cheeks and chase away the last remnants of pain.
I pull her closer, deciding to just enjoy what she's willing to give.
Tomorrow’s time to analyze what it all means.
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