Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic If I Were You (13/?)

From Part 12:

“You live in a fantasy world, Luthor. Neither Clark nor I will ever help you find Lois.”

“I see. Then, I suppose I’ll have to find another use for you.” Luthor made as if to pour himself a glass of wine, turning the tap on a dusty cask. As he did so, a cage dropped down from the ceiling, enclosing Clark completely.

Clark gave his would-be captor an incredulous look. “You know that bars won’t hold me.”

“Oh,” Luthor said, “I think they will.” He pulled a small remote control device from his pocket, and the instant he hit the button, Clark felt the pain strike. He instinctively took a step to move away from it, and just as his hands gripped the bars of his cell, they began to glow a sickly green. Clark reared back as if he’d been hit with a cattle prod, and with nothing to hold on to, he fell to the ground, writhing in pain.

“I think that you, Superman, are the reason Lois refused to marry me,” Luthor said. “I wonder what she would do to save you, hmm? It will be interesting to find out. You see, it’s a win-win proposition for me. If she’s willing to trade herself for her beloved hero, then I’ll get the girl. If she’s not…then I’ll have the pleasure of watching you die. Of course, you’ll die either way, but my dear Lois won’t know that.” He smiled, and even through the haze of pain and nausea, Clark could see the light of insanity in his eyes. “A fantasy world?” Luthor asked softly. “Perhaps. But it’s all about to come true.”

Clark heard the sound of footsteps and then the slamming of a door. He forced himself to look around his cell, around the room, to see if there was anything he could use to break free, but there was nothing…nothing but a pain so all-encompassing that he soon gave himself up to it, abandoning all hope of escape.

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Part 13:


He knew he should be trying to save himself, but he couldn’t think clearly enough to formulate a plan. His body was curved tightly in the fetal position and his eyes were closed to avoid the lurid glare of the green bars. There was nothing he could do, nowhere he could go to escape the pain that was burning him alive from the inside.

He knew he was dying, and he wished for the distraction of his life flashing before his eyes. Clark had always found that idea comforting, somehow, but it wasn’t happening properly for him at all. He’d imagined it like a movie shown in fast forward, but this was more like bits and pieces of mental flotsam that were bobbing randomly through his mind. He’d try to catch hold of one memory, and it would slip from his grasp and be replaced by something unrelated.

A girl he’d kissed once in Florence…her name had been lost to time, but he could still taste the wine on her lips and feel her hair slipping between his fingers. There was music playing somewhere in the distance, drifting towards them on the soft night air, and he felt again the frisson of excitement as she pressed her body close to his in obvious invitation…

…and then he felt the weight of the smooth wooden bat in his hands as he stepped up to the plate in some long-ago little league game… he heard his parents on the nearby bleachers cheering for him, calling his name, and he breathed in the smell of popcorn mingled with the scent of freshly cut grass. When he faced the pitcher, the sun blinded him for a moment and he reached up to adjust his helmet…better now…and tapped his bat against home plate once, twice, before hoisting it into position…

…and that gave way to a high school math test, a problem he had no idea how to solve, the drone of a fly flinging itself against the window, and the added distraction of Lana Lang in a short skirt, her gloriously smooth legs crossed just within his line of vision in the next row.

He wanted to fast forward somehow, to find the memories of Lois and have those be the ones he was clinging to when the end came, but his mind refused to cooperate, and while he could call up her image, he couldn’t hang on to a specific moment, couldn’t make her feel real to him in the same way the other memories did. He wanted to smell her perfume and to feel her shoulder beneath the weight of his hand as he bent for a closer look at her computer screen. Once more, he wanted to be dazzled by her smile or secretly amused by the magnificent excess of her rants. He wanted to relive each of the times he’d kissed her, even if they hadn’t meant to her what they’d meant to him. If his life was going to flash before his eyes in this odd, disjointed way, why couldn’t it linger on the moments he’d spent with Lois?

Maybe with Lois there was no specific moment. Maybe it was all so tightly woven together that there were no individual memories, just emotions so deep and so powerful that they weren’t his to command. He wanted to wrap himself in those emotions, even the ones that were painful, to cling to them so that her name was the thing he’d whisper with his dying breath.

He wasn’t afraid of dying, but neither did he want it, not when there was so much left unfinished. So much for Superman to do. So much for Clark Kent to do. So many dreams still unrealized. Parents who loved him and would need him all the more as they moved past middle age and into their later years.

But most of all, he didn’t want to die without telling Lois one more time that he loved her. Loved her whether she could return his love or not. Loved her even if the only part of him she could love was the part that could fly. Loved her unconditionally. It had been foolish to think he could turn his love off with the flip of a switch, and now, even through the haze of pain and delirium, he felt a freedom in allowing himself just to feel it again, to let his love for Lois Lane flow freely through his veins. He couldn’t call up a memory, couldn’t remember what it felt like to hold her hand, couldn’t remember the smell of her shampoo, but the love…that came to him as naturally as breathing.

He’d failed her, he knew. He’d failed their partnership. He’d gone off on his own, sure that he could handle whatever came his way, and he hadn’t trusted her enough to let her back him up. It was just what he’d always accused her of doing, and now it was going to cost him his life. And the worst of it was that she might never know. Clark Kent would simply disappear, as if he’d never existed, and no one would ever know that his life had ebbed away in a green cage hidden deep in the lair of a madman.

“I’m so sorry, Lois…” he whispered.

And then he was lost in another memory, this one of a long-ago fishing trip with his father, and he took what comfort he could from the sweet simplicity of that time, of cold Coca-Cola on a hot day and his father patiently untangling his line…like this, son…hold it just like this…

…and then he was a preschooler, chasing bubbles in the front yard, the grass soft beneath his bare feet…more, mama, more…I catch ‘em!...and his mother was laughing and blowing more bubbles, so many that they seemed to sparkle down from heaven and his hands were slick and soapy from grabbing at them…

…and then he was a baby, nestled safely in his mother’s arms. Her robe was satiny-smooth against his cheek, and her voice was low and musical as she soothed him towards sleep. His eyes were heavy, but he fought to keep them open, gazing on her beloved face. With one chubby hand, he reached up and grabbed a fistful of her long, red hair and tried to maneuver it to his mouth for further inspection. She laughed and gently loosened his grip, tossing her hair over her shoulder and out of his reach.

He didn’t know if it was even possible, if his memories actually went back that far or if he was extrapolating from what he’d seen in the globe, imagining a scene he wished he could remember. It didn’t really matter. His last thought before he slipped into unconsciousness was that despite all that Lex Luthor had taken from him, he had given him something, as well.

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He hadn’t come.

It was nine o’clock, two hours past the time Clark had promised to visit her in Smallville, and he hadn’t come.

It hadn’t been a casual promise. He had meant it. He had meant to come. And the fact that he hadn’t could mean…so many things. Things she had no way of finding out. She felt helpless, and she hated feeling helpless. The strangeness with Martha and Jonathan had continued, and they seemed to be carrying out an argument with their eyes as they watched her pace the house, her initial irritation giving way to worry with every passing moment. She went out to the front porch again and again, looking for a streak in the sky that would mean he was keeping his promise, but the soft dusk gave way to darkness without a sign of Clark.

Finally, after Lois returned from yet another futile trip outside, Martha seemed to win whatever battle she’d been waging with Jonathan, and suddenly her voice broke the silence of their vigil. “Lois, did Clark say anything to you about Kryptonite?”

Lois’s head came up and she stared at Martha, uncomprehending. “Kryptonite,” she repeated, tasting the strange word. Oh, she remembered it all right, but at the time the word had been coined, she hadn’t believed it even existed. She remembered back two days ago, however, to the thoughts inspired by her first sight of the pond – remembered wondering if Trask’s mythical rock might actually have been real – and then she’d let herself get distracted, hadn’t given it another thought. Her brain was absolutely rotting to pieces, she thought with disgust. If Kryptonite was real – and why else would Martha have mentioned it? – then that meant that there was something out there that could hurt Clark, could possibly even kill him, and if that were true, then… “What about Kryptonite?” she asked urgently. “What did he tell you?”

“He was exposed to Kryptonite yesterday,” Martha said, her hands twisting in her lap. “He said he was called to a false alarm and he felt the same sort of pain he’d experienced when he was exposed to that rock here on the farm. He didn’t see who had it, and he only lost his powers for a few hours, but…”

“It’s real then,” Lois breathed. “It can really hurt him.”

“We think it could kill him.” Jonathan’s voice was taut with fear. “And someone in Metropolis has it…”

“…and now Clark is missing.” Lois couldn’t keep the note of hysteria from her voice.

“We don’t know that,” Martha said, sounding almost angry. “Maybe he’s just been called to an emergency.”

“You’ve had LNN on for the last two hours,” Lois flung back, gesturing at the muted television set. “There’s been nothing, Martha.”

“Clark wouldn’t want us to panic,” Jonathan said, but it didn’t sound like he was taking his own advice.

“Oh, yeah?” Lois said, her eyes flashing at him. “Well who cares what Clark wants! If I want to panic, I’ll darn well do it. And if I want to catch the next plane back to Metropolis, I’m going to do that, too. I’m going to find my partner, and then I’m going to make him understand what being partners means if I have to strangle him with his own cape to do it. Now are you two going to help me? Because if not, I need to call a cab. Can you even get a cab out here? Oh, God, you probably can’t. I’ll hitchhike then. Don’t think I won’t…”

“Lois,” Martha said sharply, “Clark is our son, and I’ll thank you to remember that we’ve been loving him and worrying about him a lot longer than you have. Now of course we’ll help you, but we’re going to be smart about it.”

Something in Lois responded to Martha’s tone, and she took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down a little. “I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice. “I’m just scared.”

“We are too, honey. We are too. Now the first thing we need to do is to call Clark’s apartment again and make sure he hasn’t turned up there.”

“I just called thirty minutes ago,” Jonathan objected. “Surely Mr. White would have given him my message.”

“Let me call this time,” Lois said. “I can find out from Perry what Clark was doing today.”

“You’re not supposed to use the phone,” Martha reminded her. “What if Clark’s line has been tapped?”

“I doubt it will matter. If I go back to Metropolis, Lex will know it soon enough. But I’ll call Perry’s cell. That’s probably safer.”

Her hand shook slightly as she dialed the familiar number. Perry picked up on the second ring, and she could hear the sounds of conversation in the background. For a moment, she felt a flash of hope – maybe Clark had just gotten busy talking with the guys and hadn’t been able to make an excuse to break away.

“Hi, Perry,” she said, trying to keep her voice as normal as possible. “It’s Lois.”

“Lois!” Perry exclaimed. “It’s great to hear your voice, darlin’. How are you doing?”

“I’m…fine,” she lied. “Uh, listen…is Clark around?”

“No,” Perry answered, dragging the syllable out. “I haven’t seen him since this morning. Between you and me, I’m starting to get a little concerned. You know Clark’s a big one for disappearing at odd times, but I sure would’ve thought he’d be back here by now.”

“Yeah,” she answered, simultaneously shaking her head at Martha and Jonathan. Martha went into Jonathan’s arms then, and Lois envied them the comfort they were able to provide one another. “Listen, Perry, what can you tell me about what Clark did today? Do you know where he went?”

“Uh, no, not exactly. We were supposed to meet over dinner and brief each other, but Clark never showed up. I know he had some sort of a breakfast meeting at around 9:00,” that was when he’d been in Kansas, Lois realized, “and then he was supposed to track down one of the board members over lunch, but I can’t say for sure if he ever did that. He must have come back here sometime during the day, though, because he checked his answering machine.” Perry lowered his voice slightly. “He had a message from Luthor.”

“What?” Lois exclaimed. “When?”

“The time stamp said Luthor called around 9:30 this morning. I don’t know when Clark listened to the message – just that he played it at some point. I went back over the tape when Clark didn’t show up, thinking maybe he’d called to let us know where he was. It took me a minute to figure it out – I hate those darn machines – and while I was punching buttons I somehow picked up Luthor’s message.”

“What did he say?” Lois asked urgently. “What did Lex say in his message?”

“Nothing much. Just that he wanted Clark to call him. What’s this all about, Lois?”

“I don’t want to say over the phone. I’m going to try to catch a red-eye to Metropolis, and I’ll come straight there.”

“Whoa!” Perry exclaimed. “I thought you were sitting this one out.”

“Not anymore,” Lois said grimly. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“All right, honey,” Perry said. “We’ve got some things to tell you, too, when you get here. Like you said, though, it’s probably best we don’t do it over the phone. It’s good news, though. Best news I’ve had in weeks.”

Her curiosity was fierce, but she recognized that Perry was right. It wouldn’t do to say any more just then. She said her goodbyes and then hung up the phone, staring blankly at it for a moment while her mind worked to catch up with what she’d just learned.

“Well?” Martha asked, her face tight with worry.

Lois suddenly realized that she was biting her lip so hard that it was beginning to ache. “Perry said it’s likely that Clark talked to Lex today,” she said slowly. “And now he’s missing. We have to at least consider that those two things could be related.”

“But Luthor wouldn’t know to use Kryptonite against Clark,” Jonathan said.

“I don’t think he would, no,” Lois said, but the thought of the globe flashed through her mind. If Lex had somehow figured out that the globe was Clark’s, then Clark would be even more vulnerable to Lex than any of them knew. No, she wouldn’t even mention that possibility to Martha and Jonathan. “But he might have asked Clark to contact Superman for him. But why would Clark go, knowing that Lex might have Kryptonite?”

“He said last night that he thought it was more likely another government agency that had gotten hold of the Kryptonite Wayne Irig sent off for testing,” Martha said. “He didn’t seem to think Luthor was a likely candidate.”

Lois boggled at her. “Not a likely candidate? Lex has the money and the connections, and he hates Superman. How could Clark discount him?”

“I don’t think he discounted him entirely, but he didn’t want to let himself forget that Luthor isn’t the only person in the world who would like to see Superman hurt.”

“I guess I can see that,” Lois conceded, “but knowing that Lex called Clark this morning puts him right back at the top of the list of suspects. And besides, it’s our only lead.”

“So what are we going to do?” Jonathan asked.

“We’re going to give Lex what he wants,” Lois said calmly. "Lois Lane - back in Metropolis."

“Lois…you can’t,” Martha said. “Clark would never forgive us if something happened to you.”

“I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to him while I’m hiding out in Kansas,” Lois answered fiercely. “The Kryptonite changes everything! Can’t you see that? Clark brought me here because he couldn’t be hurt, and I could. But if Lex – or anyone else – has Kryptonite, then he’s just as vulnerable as I am. Maybe more, because Superman works alone, and I’ll have Perry and the others to back me up. I swear, Martha, I’m not going to be stupid about this, but I am going back to Metropolis.”

Martha looked at Jonathan and then back at Lois. “Well, then we’re coming with you,” she said. “I don’t know how in the world we can help, but if that awful man has our son…”

“No.” Lois shook her head. “I think you two should stay here, at least until tomorrow. There’s no sense in all of us rushing off in the middle of the night, and there’s still a possibility that Clark will turn up here. Let me see how things stand in Metropolis, and I’ll call you tomorrow morning. If there’s anything you can do there, you can catch the first flight out.”

Martha and Jonathan looked at each other, and Lois could tell that their instincts to rush to their son’s aid were warring with the fact that her suggestion was a sensible one. Finally, Jonathan nodded. “Go pack your things, Lois, and Martha and I will call the airline.”

“Thank you.” Lois hugged first Martha and then Jonathan, and then she took the stairs two at a time. She didn’t need to pack much at all since she’d left everything she owned back in Metropolis, but she took a few minutes to brush her teeth and neaten her appearance.

When she got back downstairs, Jonathan had his keys in his hand. “We were able to get you on a midnight flight to Metropolis, but that means we have to leave for Wichita right away. Are you ready?”

“I’m ready,” she said. It occurred to her that her departure from the farmhouse was nearly as precipitous as her arrival had been. It was amazing how much had changed in just three days, however. Now, instead of looking at her like an interloper, Martha was regarding her tearfully and pulling her into an embrace.

“Find him, Lois,” Martha pleaded, her voice thick with emotion. “But look out for yourself, too, honey. Promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I will,” Lois whispered. “I’m going to find him and we’re going to come back here together for a nice, long vacation.”

“You’re welcome here anytime, honey, for as long as you want to stay.”

Lois pulled away and nodded. “Thank you for having me…and thank you for letting me go. I need to do this.”

“I understand,” Martha said, “and Clark will, too.”

“We’ve gotta go,” Jonathan said. “Martha, I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“Be careful,” she urged, following them out the door. The last thing Lois saw as they drove away was Martha standing on the porch with one hand pressed to her mouth and the other raised in a gesture of farewell and benediction.

____________________________

“Oh, Su-per-man…”

At the sound of the sing-song voice calling his name, Clark struggled to open his eyes and then squinted against the green glare of the bars that surrounded him. Lex Luthor was pacing like a lion on the other side, but all Clark could make out was a dark silhouette moving back and forth.

“Ah, good, you’re awake,” Luthor said cheerfully. “And how are we feeling this morning?” He scrutinized his prisoner and then tutted insincerely. “Still a little green around the gills, I see. I’m afraid ‘Superman’ is something of a misnomer at the moment. I, on the other hand, am feeling wonderful. ‘She is beautiful and therefore to be wooed. She is woman, therefore to be won.' Henry the Fifth.”

“What do you want, Luthor?” Clark ground out, in far too much pain to follow Luthor’s convoluted conversational tactics.

“I’m so glad you asked! I’ve come here to give you the good news, actually. I’ve just gotten word from one of my trusted employees that in one hour, Flight 603 from Wichita will land at the Metropolis airport, and on that flight is a passenger by the name of Lois Lane. What, I wonder, could bring her back to Metropolis in the middle of the night? Could it be that she’s missed you already? Could it be that she actually loves you?” He pretended to give that some thought. “It doesn’t matter, of course. Only one of us is in any condition to court the fair Lois, and your unfortunate circumstances are going to give me all the leverage I need to get her to agree to marry me. And once she’s my wife…well, I love Lois, but she’s a bit too independent, don’t you think? Leave that to me.”

“You sick…” Clark was seized by a fit of coughing and couldn’t finish the epithet.

Luthor opened the door of the cage and smiled down at his prisoner, his eyes glittering with malice. “Do you know, Superman, just when it was that I decided I had to have Lois as my very own?”

Clark deliberately looked away, biting back a moan at the pain the movement caused.

“It was at the airport, after you’d apprehended Miranda. You took Lois in your arms and impulsively declared your love for her while I stood by and watched. Napoleon once said, ‘Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake.’” He lowered his voice to an intimate hush that seemed to crawl up and down Clark’s ravaged nerves. “And that, Superman, was a very big mistake. I’ve always admired Lois, but once I knew that you loved her, I was determined to have her. You showed me your weakness that day, and that weakness is what put you in this cage. I wanted you to know that, so that you could ponder it in whatever time you have left.

“But now, I must be off,” he said lightly. “I have a plane to meet, and I need to look my best. Which do you think?” He held up two neckties, but even if he’d cared, Clark could barely make them out through the glare of the Kryptonite and the haze of pain, both physical and psychological. “An elegant gray, or a more passionate red?” He laughed and looped the gray tie around Clark’s neck “I agree. Definitely the red.”

Luthor left the cage, locking it behind him and tossing the key onto a nearby cask of wine.

“Luthor,” Clark rasped, hardly knowing what he wanted to say, but feeling desperate enough to try anything.

“How strange to hear you say my name and know it’s probably the last time. I’ll be back later…when it’s all over…and by then, I trust that Lois will be my wife. Goodbye, Superman.”

Clark again heard Luthor’s footsteps and the closing of the heavy door, but all he could think about was Lois. She was coming to Metropolis, putting herself in danger, and it was all because of him - because he had stupidly, impulsively, pretended to be affected by the pheromone so that he could steal a kiss. He could have kissed Lois at any time while she had been affected by the pheromone. If he was going to pretend to be affected by Miranda’s compound, why on earth hadn’t he done it as Clark Kent? The answer was almost too dreadful to admit, even to himself: He’d wanted to kiss Lois, of course, but he’d also wanted to flaunt her attraction to Superman in front of Lex Luthor. He’d kissed her deliberately, playing to his audience, little suspecting that his action would have ramifications beyond feeding Lois’s Superman crush. Encouraging her feelings for Superman had been inconvenient and short-sighted; this was a tragedy. His own death paled in importance beside the possibility of Lois marrying Luthor in some noble and futile effort to save him. And she would do it, he knew. She would give Luthor anything he asked for if he promised to let Superman go.

It was in that moment that he realized Lois truly loved him. He knew it with absolute, unshakeable certainty. Despite the utter mess they’d made of things, despite her hesitance to voice the words and his own reluctance to hear them, despite the fact that they’d argued practically every day for a week…despite all that, he knew to his bones that Lois loved him. And if she did, God forbid, allow Luthor to trick her into marrying him, it would be because Clark Kent’s life meant more to her than her own.

He felt the lethargy seeping into his bones, felt the pain of the Kryptonite tugging him towards unconsciousness again, but this time he fought it with every bit of strength he still possessed. It was one thing to wallow in old memories and wait passively for death when the only life at risk was his own, and quite another to do it when Lois was, perhaps, on the verge of getting in bed with the devil in order to save him.

Victory belongs to the most persevering, he thought to himself as he struggled to sit up. He felt Luthor’s tie swinging against his suit and reached for it, fingering the fine silk with the first stirrings of hope.

If Lex Luthor thought his little visit would cause Superman to roll over and die of despair, then he was very much mistaken. He might still die – Clark was under no illusions about that – but he’d fight it to his last breath.

Someone like Luthor, who was incapable of understanding love, couldn’t possibly know that he’d just given Superman every reason in the world to live.

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A/N: “Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake,” and “Victory belongs to the most persevering” are both attributed to Napoleon Bonaparte.

Again, dialogue borrowed and modified from “The House of Luthor” by Deborah Joy Levine and Dan Levine.

Did I say this story was going to be 13 parts? I must have been hitting the wine that night. Obviously, with poor Clark still stuck in the green cage, we’re not quite through here yet. I’m guessing 16 parts now, but feel free not to believe me until you actually see the words “The End.”

Thanks again to all who have offered feedback. Your support has been so very encouraging