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Good Night, Lois - Hook’s Treasure

Lois gives my shoulder a light squeeze as the old farmhouse comes into view. Does she know my heart is beating a mile a minute? Does she feel the pounding against her fingertips? I lower us to the ground, slowly, reluctant to let go of her.

I haven't returned to the farm since Sheriff Harris took me back home to gather a few of my belongings after my parents had died. Even though I’ve visited Smallville quite a few times, I never found the courage to come back here.

There are too many happy memories here stirring up more painful ones. I just wasn't sure if I had the strength yet.

Looking at the house, it's almost as if no time passed at all. The barn glows a bright red in the golden light of dusk. A fresh layer of paint coats the house. The only thing missing is the smell of fresh apple pie. It's too easy to imagine that, when I enter the house, Mom will be waiting for me there. Or that Dad is going to return from his work on the fields any moment now.

But that's not going to happen.

Wayne Irig took care of this house for me, hoping to surprise me when Lana and I would return as a newlywed couple. That was three years ago. I guess he is still counting on Smallville’s prodigal son to return one day.

“Why do you think Mr. Irig refused to come with us?” Lois asks softly, pulling me from my thoughts.

I shrug. “Either he is afraid Trask would follow him here if he did, or it's too painful for him to be around me.”

I'm almost sure it's the latter. There was such a wistful smile on his face when he greeted me as if I reminded him too much of his late friends.

I swallow against the lump in my throat . “My Dad was almost like a brother to him. The poor man had to bury first his wife, and then my parents. I guess that's why he didn't offer to take custody of me.”

It wasn't just painful for Wayne. Seeing him again, I couldn't help but remember the days we spent on the fields, working and joking around with my Dad. I almost felt my Mom's hand on my shoulder encouraging me to knock at the Irigs' door and ask for her Halloween caramel apples. All of that happened so long ago.

I feel another hand on my shoulder, smaller, but it belongs to a person who is right here at my side, now. “Do you regret coming here?”

“No.” I let out a shaky breath. “I guess it was time I did this. Wayne just forced my hand by hiding that crystal he found in Dad’s old barn.”

Lois chews on her bottom lip. “I wonder what’s so special about it that Trask comes all the way here and starts digging up fields.”

I shrug. “One way to find out.”

Before I head to the barn, I lower my glasses and scan the immediate area. There's no one here but us. To be completely sure I reach out, searching for any sound that is not the rustling of grass, the gentle song of crickets, the million noises that a human would call quiet.

Compared to the city there's not much to hear, but I don't really know what silence is like. Not anymore, anyway.

When I’m certain we're alone, I give Lois a slight nod. “Let's go.”

Though I have every right to be here, I still feel like an intruder as we close the distance to the barn. The door squeaks on its hinges from lack of use as we open it and slip inside.

The fading daylight casts the inside in a faint light, just enough to find our way around the old tractor and the scattered tools lining the walls or hanging from the ceiling, some of them hopelessly outdated. But Dad never managed to part with them.

The toolbox Wayne described is right where he said I would find it – well hidden, yet standing out between all these familiar things. Save for a bit of rust, I could have traveled right back into the past.

“Got it,” I mutter.

I pick up the box and set it on the workbench. A flutter of anticipation settles deep in my stomach. Wayne told me about this crystal and where he found it – last week a storm uprooted an old oak close to the Shuster field. That is very close to where my parents found me. Could this crystal be related to my home world? Is that why Trask is digging up the area?

“Are you nervous?”

I nod. Lois knows me so well.

She gestures toward the box. “I could open it for you.”

I let out a breath and shake my head. “No, it's okay.”

Still, my heart is pounding heavily in my chest as I reach out to open the box. After a moment’s hesitation I go ahead and an eerie green glow lights up the dark.

The next moment the strangest sensation washes over me. I'm assaulted by a million needles pricking my skin, a rush of heat, a force of… something… slamming into my stomach, turning it, holding it in a vice-like grip that takes my breath away. The world starts spinning about me and my knees buckle. Every single muscle and bone in my body is squeezed together, then torn apart. Dark blotches are tinting my vision.

“Lois,” I ground out. “I’m feeling kind of strange.”

Her voice comes from far away, muffled. “Are you sick?”

“I guess.” I gasp as my stomach rises.

The dark blotches coalesce and the ground is rushing toward me. Lois is saying something else, but I can no longer make out her words. Darkness is pulling me under –

***

Her voice sounds like static, muffled at first as if a radio is not set on the right frequency. “…wake…Clark…my God …please, wake up.”

The fog in my brain slowly settles until her words become clearer. I try to look at her, but my eyelids are sluggish, refusing to obey. It takes a few tries until her face swims into focus, shifting between blurred features and a clear view of her tear-streaked cheeks and her drawn mouth. The fog is still trying to pull me under and let me drift back to unconsciousness.

It's tempting to just give in and return to a world of blissful ignorance. Though the needles are gone and my bones no longer feel like anyone would crush them, my stomach still feels queasy. Chills run through me and my limbs, every fiber of my body really, is too heavy to move. I'm beginning to understand what people mean when they say they feel like they were run over by a truck.

Yet, as her lovely features become clearer, marred by anxiety and despair, I know that I need to hold on to that pain, grit my teeth, and fight against the pull of unconsciousness.

“Lois,” I croak.

“Oh thank God, you're alive.” She sobs. “I was so scared!”

“ ‘m sorry,” I mumble.

Lois looks too much like the scared child who thought she’d lost her mother, when Ellen had passed out from too much alcohol. I shouldn't have done this to her.

“It wasn't your fault.”

She sobs again, scrambles closer and buries her face in the crook of my neck.
Her hot tears soak the collar of my shirt. She wraps her arms around me and runs her fingers through my hair, comforting me in a way that I haven't experienced since childhood.

“It must have been this awful stuff in the box.” Lois’ breath hitches. “I'm so sorry I realized too late what it was doing to you! If I had lost you!”

And suddenly I feel her lips on my cheek, warm and pliant. Sensations of a very different kind wash over me and now I'm glad I can't do anything but lie there as she kisses me, longer than necessary, much more intense than appropriate between friends. I try not to mourn the loss of contact as she pulls back.

“Uhh, sorry,” she whispers. “That wasn't exactly planned.”

In the darkness I can't see it, but I know there's a deep blush tinting her cheeks.

“It's okay,” I mumble, not entirely certain it really is.

But I guess fear does strange things to people. That one time I almost lost her, when I saved her from being overrun by a car, I just wanted to hug her tight and make sure she really was okay.

My limbs are beginning to feel a bit more like they actually belong to me and the weight pressing me down lifts slightly. With some difficulty, I scramble back into a sitting position.

Lois watches me, her forehead creased with lines of worry. “Do you think you can stand up?”

I let out a breath. “Not sure. This crystal really did a number on me, I feel so…” I’m searching for the right term that describes this strange lethargy that turns every motion into an effort. “...weak.”

And suddenly I notice something else - I don't hear a thing beyond the soft rustling of fabric as Lois kneels next to me to help me to my feet. Not the crickets, not her heartbeat, not even her breath.

“I don't think I have my powers right now.” That's probably the scariest thing of all, though I have often imagined how much easier my life would be if I were normal.

But now that realization hits me like a ton of bricks. I flew us here. Returning to Lois' rental car means a miles long walk and I'm not even sure I can stand. The chills running through my body intensify.

Lois puts a hand on my forehead. “You're burning up. We need to get you away from that stuff. As far a we possibly can.”

Though I whole-heartedly agree, my stomach twists into a tight knot and I shake my head. “No. First and foremost we need to get that stuff away from Smallville. Whatever this crystal is, it's Hook’s treasure. It's exactly what Trask has been looking for all along. A means to get rid of me.”

Lois lets out a long sigh. “But how? We're miles from the car and you're looking about to keel over any minute.”

She's right about that.

“Too bad we're not really in Neverland. We could hide in the cave under the tree.”

“Well, we can't hide under a tree,” I mumble thoughtfully. “But perhaps on a tree. My old treehouse is close. I don't think anyone would be looking for us there.”

Lois gives me a throrough once-over. “You think you can make it?”

I shrug. “I have to. It's better than staying here. Much as I hate to say it, but we should take the crystal with us.”

Leaving the barn is more exhausting than anything I’ve ever done as Superman. And I'm not even carrying the toolbox. Lois does. Still, it takes several tries just to lock my legs back under me. The way over to the tree house is painfully slow. But we make it, one step at a time.

The climb up the old ladder leaves me breathless and as I finally pull myself into the treehouse, I collapse and for a while can't do anything but suck in air. It's a humiliating experience for someone who can reroute tornadoes.

What if I'm going to stay like this, what if my powers are gone for good?

Lois stores the toolbox in the far corner of the treehouse before she sits down next to me and takes my hand.

She runs her thumb along the back of my hand. “Hey, it's gonna be fine.”

Not for the first time I wonder if she's secretly a mind-reader.

I look at her, troubled. “What if it's not?”

She shakes her head firmly. “You had these powers all your life. Why would a crystal change that? And you're much better already than you were. Your powers are going to come back, I’m sure.”

“Thank you.” Gosh, I'd be so lost without that woman. What would I ever do if I lost her? I swallow past the lump that is suddenly in my throat. “For the pep talk, and for saving my life.”

She smiles at me. “I think we're even now. It's late, you should get some sleep. One last question though – when I climbed up that ladder I saw you named this treehouse your ‘Fortress of Solitude.’ Why?”

I chuckle softly. “Well, I was young and I was a fool. I had just begun to develop my powers. My super hearing gave me splitting headaches and I got so strong that I barely dared to be around people. Little did I know how lucky I was to have my parents support me. I felt so lonely then, before I even knew what it was like to really be all on my own.”

She leans in and once more her lips brush against my cheek. “You're not alone anymore. Good Night, Clark.”

“Good Night, Lois.” I can no longer stifle a yawn.

And before I can even think about what it all means, I feel myself drift off to sleep.

Almost feared I wouldn't make it. Finished this one just in time. Happy Ficlet Friday.



TOC

Comments can go down here 👇

Oh this is getting good! I mean, it's been good, but now it's getting more...just more. I admit to having reservations about the age gap, especially since I know people exist who would happily take an adult/child romance just because. But, this works. You've created something beautiful and interesting, and I look forward to seeing how this goes.

I've been told that the generally acceptable age proportion between two would-be sweethearts is calculated using half the man's age (CK:32/2 = 16) plus seven (16+7 = 23) to get the woman's minimum age (assuming the man is older than the woman). Lois is nineteen, almost twenty, but she's more mature than most nineteen-year-old women, so maybe it's not too much difference after all. We'll see where this goes from here, but so far the entire series has been a joy to read. Clark is helping Lois grow and learn and understand, and Lois is keeping him grounded (no pun intended) and in touch with humanity. It's very good that she seems to accept his powers as a given rather than an aberration. Keep it up, Bakasi!

That's not my intention at all. When I wrote that first chapter I wanted Clark to be Lois' Peter Pan. So she needed to be young enough to believe in magic and Clark needed to be old enough to fly. And I've been trying to fix the problem with the resulting age difference every since.

Describing their budding relationship/ friendship without having Clark come across as a pedophil is a fine line to walk for sure.


Thank you!


Never heard of that calculation. But it means that I'm safe when Lois is 26 and Clark is 38. takes mental note

Thank you for your feedback

I love this series so much.
It's nice to have a few chapters that run close together. I loved the other chapters but occasionally the time skips left me wanting more from the time before. But getting Lois to an adult age was important for this. Now we can really see where things go.
They are still so cute together - Clark hesitant to start anything with her still pretty young compared to him and Lois just getting a feel for what she wants but shy about pushing the issue.
Curious to see how the rest of the GGGOH stuff is gonna play out here.

Hearing them speak to each other like this is so sweet. Don't worry Clark, with Lois by your side Captain Hook ( Trask ) hasn't got a chance!

Thanks for posting this Bakasi, it won't be Ficlet Friday without your contributions!

Thanks for another terrific chapter! I’m glad Clark didn’t open the toolbox when Lois wasn’t around. It’s fun
seeing how their relationship has changed throughout the years. Their age difference doesn’t matter as much now. They really are cute together. I can’t wait to see where you take us. I love this story!

Hi Barbara!

Hope RL is slowing down again!

Trask is Hook and green-k the treasure?
Poor dear

Dear well-meddling townsfolk.

He did!



They *did* dig a giant hole in South Africa for some crystals, too.

We call that ‘feeling the lack of lead shielding’.

Reader
Clark:
Lois:

And that’s just kryptonite. Wait till Lois gets lost in time.

Remember that feeling, little one. Think about it before crawling into a vent to spy on gun-toting bad guys.

Oh boy oh boy. Maybe it’s time to break up with her for her own good?
LOIS: not the point



Yes. Friends.



There’re ways to increase the volume of her breathing…

/Points up/

Yeah, it’s not like it’s golden or something.

Awwww… they’re so gonna wake up snuggling

Looking forward to the next Friday whenever you get back in the groove!

Michael