Lois’s plane touched down at the Metropolis airport at just before 3 a.m. Though she’d tried to rest during the flight, the combination of worry and adrenaline kept her wide awake, her mind racing. She had made twenty different plans and then discarded them all just as quickly. LexCorp was a veritable fortress, and disguising herself as a coffee vendor or someone from housekeeping simply wasn’t going to work this time. She doubted a mouse could sneak into that building without Lex knowing about it within minutes; Lois Lane certainly wasn’t going to escape his notice.
No, the only thing for it was to meet with Lex and hope that she could – somehow – glean something from him about Superman. It was incredibly vague, as plans went, but she’d gone forward with less before and had it come out all right in the end. The problem was going to be convincing Perry and the others to let her do it. She rubbed at her eyes tiredly, just thinking about that conversation, as she waited for the seat belt light to blink off so she could be on her way. The seat next to her was mercifully empty, but the other passengers on the plane were stirring, moving pillows to one side and beginning to collect their things. Finally, the plane eased to a stop and they were given permission to leave.
As she disembarked, she felt very alone. For a weak moment, she wished that she’d called Perry from Wichita and asked him to meet her or that she’d encouraged the Kents when they said they wanted to come with her. She hadn’t called Perry because she couldn’t see depriving him of a decent night’s sleep when she was perfectly capable of getting a cab, and she had discouraged the Kents partly for the reasons she gave, but also because she knew that Clark wanted to keep them as far from Lex Luthor as possible. She would never tell them that, but neither would she involve them directly in the investigation unless it was absolutely necessary to save Clark’s life. It was bad enough that she was breaking her own promise to stay in Kansas; she hoped rather than believed that Clark would understand that and would be able to forgive her. She’d already decided, however, that saving Clark’s life was worth anything, even if it cost them a future together. She knew Clark well enough to know that he’d rather die than put her at risk, which in her opinion just showed what an idiot he could be sometimes.
She refused to even consider the possibility that she might already be too late. It was, quite simply, an unacceptable outcome, so she wasn’t going to think about it. Not at all.
She had no luggage to collect, so she broke from the tide of her fellow passengers and made her way through the concourse in the direction of the escalators.
“Lois, my dear.”
She’d heard of hearts stopping in fear but had always taken it as hyperbole. But no, she would swear that the lurch in her chest was her heart stopping cold when she heard Lex Luthor call her name. She had known, of course, that he would find her, but she had never dreamed it would be so quickly or that she would have so little control over the time and place.
She whirled and stared at him as if he were an apparition. He was actually there, not three feet away, resplendent in a charcoal suit, a crisp, snowy white shirt, and a patterned red silk tie. A matching handkerchief peeked out of his breast pocket. Once she would have thought him dashing; now, it simply seemed bizarre for him to be so perfectly turned-out at 3:30 in the morning.
“L-Lex…” She swallowed hard. “What are you doing here?”
He smiled and reached for her hand, clasping it warmly in his. “I’ve come to offer you a ride, my love. I’ll not have you taking a cab like a common peasant.”
“I am a common peasant,” she said, with some of her old spirit. “And I’m not your…” She couldn’t bring herself to say the word ‘love’ – not about Lex.
“Oh, but you are,” he said in a low voice. “And as to the ride…I really would suggest you come along with me. I have some information about a friend of yours, you see. A friend who wasn’t doing at all well when last I saw him. It would be best if we could talk privately, I think.”
“Oh my God,” Lois whispered. “It’s true…you have him.”
“I see you know to whom I am referring,” Lex said. “Full marks, my love. Your intelligence is one of the things I most admire about you, you know.”
“Please, Lex…”
“I really must decline to discuss this further in such a public place. The limousine is waiting, my dear.” He guided her towards the escalators with the light pressure of his hand at the small of her back, taking for granted that she wouldn’t resist. She thought of all the times Clark had done the same, the gentle touch reassuring her without patronizing her. Lex’s touch was an insult to that sweet memory, but she had no choice but to permit it. He had as much power over her as if he held a gun to her back instead of just his hand, and he knew it.
It seemed an eternity before they were out of the airport and Lex’s driver was holding open the door of the limousine. She felt her panic flare anew as she slid into the car. Once the door closed behind him, she would be entirely at his mercy. Every plan she’d considered on her flight to Metropolis was now moot. Lex had the upper hand and, clearly, he wouldn’t be afraid to use it against her…and against Clark.
Lex climbed in beside her, and the door slammed shut. Lois felt the last remnants of hope crumble to dust.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked on a sob.
“I think you know why,” he said softly. “I am quite desperately in love with you, and yet I know that even someone with my advantages can’t compete with a muscle-bound superhero. You see my difficulty.”
“So you think that kidnapping my…friend will make me fall in love with you?”
“Ah, no,” he admitted. “At least not right away, though I have every hope that will come with time. At the moment, I am simply proposing again. It’s not quite as romantic as my last proposal, I admit, but it has certain added incentives. You marry me, and you save Superman. It’s really as simple as that. If you don’t marry me…well, I went down to see him just before I left for the airport, and I’m afraid things aren’t looking very good for him right now. I would suggest that you not take as long making your decision this time as you did the last.”
“I want to see him!” she demanded fiercely.
“Not so fast, my dear. I believe I have a proposal outstanding.”
“Why would you want to marry me?” she asked desperately. “I told you I don’t love you…why would you want to be married to someone who doesn’t love you?”
“It’s quite simple, really. I’ve always been attracted to you. You know that. I admire your beauty, your spirit, your talent. You have many of the qualities I’m looking for in a wife. But most of all, I want you because he does.”
“Because he…no, Lex! He doesn’t want me. I…asked him once, and he turned me down flat. I swear to you, if Superman had wanted me, he could have had me any time in the last year.” Which was absolutely true, as far as it went.
He smiled. “If he turned you down, I suspect that had more to do with his ridiculously overweening sense of responsibility than with his true feelings. But if I’m wrong about that…” he shrugged slightly “I’m certainly not wrong about your feelings for him. Are you willing to let him suffer, Lois, when you could prevent it? Knowing what he means to you, what he means to the world…are you willing to let him die?”
“No,” she said hoarsely, knowing that Lex had won. She couldn’t let Clark die without doing everything in her power to prevent it. And she knew he might die anyway; she wasn’t quite as stupid as Lex seemed to think she was. She knew that Lex wasn’t going to marry her and then just release Superman to the skies, knowing that the superhero’s first order of business would be to rescue her. But if she agreed to Lex’s plan, maybe she could buy a little time, could figure something out. It was exactly the sort of no-plan plan that drove Clark to distraction, but it had worked for her before, and if sheer desperation counted for anything at all, she would find a way to make it work this time, too.
“It sounds like we have a wedding to plan,” Lex said lightly, reaching for her hand and kissing it gently. “My dear, you have made me very happy.”
Lois snatched her hand away and hugged her arms close to her chest. Lex chuckled. “There is little point in playing hard to get, my love. We will be married in just a few hours, and by the time this day is over, I will have done far more than just kiss your hand.”
Lois shuddered – she couldn’t help it – and turned her face to the darkened window so that Lex wouldn’t see the tears that were gathering in her eyes. Apparently he meant to marry her today. He had no intention of giving her any time to rescue Clark or herself.
“I’d like…” she began, and then she paused to clear her throat, which was thick with unvoiced sobs. “I’d like Perry to give me away.”
“I don’t think that’s a very good idea, under the circumstances. You may, of course, call him after the wedding. I’m sure he’ll want to offer his felicitations.”
Lois merely nodded wearily. It was the answer she was expecting. Lex wasn’t giving her an inch, but that didn’t mean she was giving up. Lex probably didn’t realize it, but he’d given her one little clue. It wasn’t much, but she was going to follow up on it the minute he gave her the chance.
_____________________________
Lois felt as though she were trapped in a nightmare. Her night of no sleep and the confusion of her emotions had left her feeling muddled, which made the preparations for this mockery of a wedding seem even more surreal than they would have otherwise. Lex had planned ahead, it seemed, and upon their arrival at the LexCorp building, she had been whisked away to a room that held several white dresses in her size, each more ridiculous than the one before, along with a full selection of makeup and hair care products. She was left alone in there and told by one of Lex’s many assistants that she was welcome to nap on the couch before readying herself for the ceremony. She had no idea when the ceremony was supposed to be, but she was absolutely certain that she wouldn’t be wasting time napping when Clark was probably being held prisoner somewhere in this very building. Instead of resting, she paced around her well-appointed cell, looking for any way out. The door was locked, and repeated attempts to pick the lock with a hairpin yielded no success. If it had been a movie or a detective drama on TV, there would have been a conveniently placed air vent through which she could crawl daringly to Clark’s aid, but the air vents at LexCorp were infuriatingly small, barely big enough for her hand to fit through.
There were no windows, but her watch told her that dawn would be breaking soon, and she wasn’t one bit closer to finding Clark. She wasn’t closer to anything, actually, except the moment when Lex would claim her for their ‘wedding’. She paused in her pacing before the full-length mirror, taking in the sight of her own reflection. She was wearing a fitted t-shirt and the comfortable jeans she had bought on her shopping trip with Martha. Her hair was ruffled and the part askew thanks to the many times she’d run her hands through it in frustration. There were dark circles under her red-rimmed eyes. She hadn’t broken down and sobbed, but the tears had continued to leak out at odd intervals, when the worry for Clark seemed to jump out at her and catch her suddenly by the throat. With every passing moment, she felt their future slipping away, lost before she’d done more than dare to dream about it.
Could she bring herself to marry Lex? If she knew for certain that it would save Clark’s life, she’d do it in a minute. But she knew better than to think Lex would keep his word, so where did that leave her? Oh, Clark, she thought. I wish you were here to tell me what to do. I need my partner!
She whirled away from the mirror at the sound of a tap at the door. The woman who had brought her there poked her curly red head in. “Excuse me, Mrs. Luthor?”
“Lane,” she snapped. “My name is Lois Lane.”
The redhead blinked at her in surprise. “I’m sorry. Miss Lane. Mr. Luthor asked me to make sure you were awake. I believe your wedding is in two hours. Will you need some help getting ready?”
“No.” Lois turned away to discourage further conversation. She had absolutely no intention of dressing up in some ruffled white nightmare just to feed Lex’s sick fantasies, but she didn’t feel like arguing the point with this latest in his parade of personal assistants. She briefly considered tackling the woman, perhaps knocking her out with a curling iron, but before the idea was even half-formed, the door closed and she heard the soft ‘snick’ of the lock.
____________________________
‘I feel weak as water.’ For some reason that expression, a favorite of his Grandma Kent’s, kept running through Clark’s head, even though he’d always thought it was a ridiculous simile. Water was one of nature’s strongest forces – just ask the guy who stopped the tidal wave. ‘Weak as water’ didn’t really make any sense.
Yet somehow it seemed to describe just how he felt, as though bone and muscle had dissolved and the spandex suit was the only thing keeping him from seeping out all over the floor. His superpowers were all but gone. He’d used the remnants of his super breath to suck the key to his prison from the top of the wine cask and on to the floor, but repeated attempts to move it further or to reach it with Luthor’s tie had done nothing but exhaust him. An accidental brush with the cage bars had nearly sent him back to unconsciousness, so for the moment he was resting in an attempt to conserve some strength.
It was impossible to keep track of time, but he was sure that Lois would have arrived in Metropolis by now. He hoped she was safely with Perry, but he couldn’t make himself believe it. Likewise, he couldn’t wrap his mind around the possibility that she might already be Luthor’s wife. Surely Luthor wouldn’t get married in the middle of the night? Luthor would want a spectacle, Clark thought, even if it was making a mockery of a farce. He had a sudden vision of Lois in a wedding gown, standing at the front of a church, and for the first time since he’d been trapped, he felt tears sting his eyes. That moment, that breathtaking moment, was meant for Clark Kent, and Luthor was going to defile it, to turn it into something as filthy and dishonest as he was.
No.
He reached for the tie again and tossed it through the bars of the cage in the direction of the key.
_____________________________________
Under the circumstances, it was impossible to be amused, but ordinarily, Lois would have laughed at the expression on Lex’s assistant’s face when she came to escort the bride to her wedding and found her still wearing blue jeans and a t-shirt. The mousy little redhead looked horrified and not a little afraid, but Lois merely fixed her with a defiant look and said, “They weren’t my size.”
“But…but…Mr. Luthor…”
“If Mr. Luthor loves me as much as he says he does, then what I’m wearing won’t matter, will it?”
“Uh, well…that is to say…”
“It’s none of your business,” Lois snapped.
“But it is my business, my dear.” Lex appeared in the doorway, having clearly been listening all the while.
Her eyes narrowed. “It’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding, Lex. Hasn’t anyone ever told you that?”
“I had some concerns about the bride getting cold feet,” he said smoothly. “Mara here is a dear, but she’s a bit less…assertive than my regular assistant, Mrs. Cox, who seems to be running late this morning.”
Assertive, Lois thought. That was one word for it. Having met Mrs. Cox, she suspected ‘vicious’ was more apt. And once again, Lex was a step ahead of her. She’d been on the verge of introducing Mara to some of her Tae Kwon Do moves and making a run for it when Lex had intervened.
“I cannot approve of your choice of wedding clothes, but for this morning, I won’t insist that you change. Even I cannot arrange a formal society wedding on a few hours notice, so today’s will be a private service. In six weeks or so, we can have the lavish wedding you deserve and celebrate our nuptials properly.”
“But today you’ll keep your part of our bargain,” Lois said coldly. “I want to see him.”
“As soon as the marriage is consummated.” The look he gave her as he said the words was a violation, but she didn’t flinch, even though inside she was despairing. She was going to have to do this, going to have to give herself to a man she abhorred, and in the end, it probably would all be for nothing. But what choice did she have? How could she ever look Martha and Jonathan Kent in the eyes again knowing that she hadn’t done absolutely everything she could to save their son?
She allowed Lex to tuck her hand through his arm and to lead her to his penthouse office high above Metropolis, feeling all the while as if she were being led to her own execution and half-way wishing it were true. An elderly man in ministerial garb waited there, standing before Lex’s imposing desk. Lois didn’t know who he was and didn’t bother to ask.
At Lex’s nod, the minister opened a book and began to intone the traditional wedding ceremony, though Lois barely heard it over the roar in her ears.
“…to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony…”
I can’t do this…I can’t do this…
“…honorable estate…”
Oh, Clark…
“…not to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly…”
Help me. Someone please help me…
“…till death do you part…”
And then, much too soon, Lex was squeezing her hand, smiling down at her, and saying the dreadful words: “I do.”
“And do you, Lois, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, from this day forward, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?”
“I…” She looked into Lex’s eyes, and saw the deceit there, the cold, calculating malice, and she knew in that instant that she couldn’t do it. She would give her life to save Clark’s, but this…this would only destroy him, if he lived to know about it. To marry Lex would be the ultimate betrayal of Clark’s love, and she knew with sudden clarity that if she couldn’t speak these words to Clark, she would never speak them to any man, and certainly not to Lex Luthor, his sworn enemy.
“I can’t,” she said firmly, tugging her hand from Lex’s grasp and stepping backwards, away from him.
Lex advanced on her, but just then they all became aware of a disturbance outside his office, a mingling of voices and advancing footsteps.
“What the…?” Lex snapped, whirling on his assistant. “I told you I was not to be disturbed!”
She cringed away from him just as the door crashed open, and Lois felt weak with relief when the first face she saw was Perry’s, followed instantly by Bill Henderson’s and at least five other members of the Metropolis Police force. Perry rushed over to her, and she fell, weeping, into his arms. From the protective shelter of his broad chest, she heard Lex yelling, protesting the interruption, and then she heard Henderson placing him under arrest “for arson and other crimes to numerous to mention.”
“You have the right to remain silent,” Henderson droned, as if he routinely arrested billionaires and this was all in a day’s work. “You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be…”
“I can afford a thousand attorneys!” Lex sneered. “I’ll have your badge for this. Mara, get me the governor on the phone…wait, make it the president! Make it…” He broke off then, and Lois looked up from Perry’s shoulder and saw that Mrs. Cox had been led into the room in handcuffs. Lex’s eyes narrowed as it dawned on him just exactly what that meant.
“Et tu, Mrs. Cox?” he asked coldly. He turned to Lois, seeking her out amidst the confusion in his office. “I’m sorry, Lois. I’m afraid our little agreement is now null and void.”
He made a break for it then, rolling and dodging Henderson’s men to hit a hidden button on his desk that caused the window to the balcony to slide open. He was outside almost before the police had time to react, but by the time he climbed up onto the wall, there were six guns pointed at him.
“It’s over, Luthor,” Henderson called, for once not sounding bored. “Give yourself up.”
“Lex Luthor will not live in a cage!”
“Luthor…no.”
“Did you know this is the tallest building in Metropolis?” Lex asked, smiling at them. “Top of the world!” And with that, he hurled himself over the edge.
Lois gave a shocked whimper and hid her face in Perry’s shoulder as the assembled police reacted with shouted expletives and bolted from the room, save the one who was guarding Mrs. Cox.
“It’s over, honey,” Perry soothed as he held her and patted her back. “I don’t know what in the world was goin’ on in here, but whatever it was, it’s over now.”
“No, Perry,” she choked, lifting her tearstained face from his shoulder. “It’s not over…and I need your help.”
“Anything, darlin’. You know that.”
She took a deep, shuddering breath and forced the assorted traumas of the previous half-hour to the back of her mind. There would be time to dwell on them later, if she wished, but right now Clark was still missing.
She pulled away from the safety of Perry’s arms and marched over to Mrs. Cox. “Where is he?” she asked in a deadly voice.
Mrs. Cox raised an elegant eyebrow. “I can’t imagine who you mean.”
“Lex just took the coward’s way out and left you holding the bag. Why are you still protecting him?” Her voice rose to a hysterical pitch, and she paused to get herself under control. “I’ll find him,” she promised, “and if he’s dead, I’ll make sure you’re charged as an accessory. I’ll make sure you’re held responsible.”
Mrs. Cox tried to stare her down, but Lois’s glare never wavered. “The wine cellar,” she said finally, as if she were washing her hands of the matter. “The last time I saw him, he was in the wine cellar.”
“Perry,” Lois said urgently.
“I’m right behind you, Lois. I don’t know what we’re talkin’ about, but I’m right behind you.”
“Thank you,” she said, and then she whirled on the little red-headed assistant, who had sunk into a chair when Lex had thrown himself off the balcony and still had her fist pressed to her mouth in horror. “I need you, too,” she snapped. The woman cringed away from Lois, clearly wishing she could disappear into the upholstery.
Lois wasn’t having any of it. “Come on,” she said, jerking the woman up by the arm. “You’re taking us to the wine cellar.” She gave her a shove that was about half as forceful as she really wanted it to be, but it was enough to send the woman scurrying out the door, looking over her shoulder as if the Devil himself was at her heels. As far as Lois was concerned, the Devil would be a whole lot nicer than Lois Lane would if this woman dared to cross her.
“I’ve…only been to the wine celler once,” the woman stammered. “I haven’t worked here very long, and…”
“Save it for your trial,” Lois snapped. “Just take us to the wine cellar.”
The woman nodded, glancing at Perry as if he might save her, but Perry’s face was as cold as Lois’s, and Mara took off in the direction of the service elevator that would take them down to the wine cellar. She hoped.
Lois’s heart was hammering in her chest as the elevator lowered them into the bowels of the LexCorp tower. She remembered Lex’s comment about this being the tallest building in Metropolis; clearly, he’d wanted to bury Superman in the very lowest part of it. It made sense, in a sick way, and at the airport she’d noticed when Lex had said that he’d been “down” to see Superman. It was her only clue at the time, but if she hadn’t had the assistance of a LexCorp employee, she still would have begun her search for Clark in the lowest part of the building she could find. Would she have found this elevator and ultimately the wine cellar? It was doubtful.
Mara led them down a corridor to a heavy metal door. “It’s in there,” she said, automatically handing over a passkey and edging away from them and down the hall. It was clear that whatever they might find, she wanted no part of it.
Lois snatched the key and fitted it into the lock, and then she hoisted the heavy door open with Perry’s help. She gasped at the sight that greeted her as she crossed the threshold, the glare of the Kryptonite cage searing her retinas. “Oh my God,” she whispered before she bolted headlong down the stairs.
The cage was open and empty, except for a wrinkled gray necktie that lay abandoned on the hard floor.
“He’s gone,” she said, choking on her tears, not wanting to believe the evidence of her own eyes. “I’m too late…”
Perry was right beside her. “Who, Lois? Who did that bastard have in here?”
“Superman.” She sank to her knees as she whispered the one word. Oh, Clark, her heart wept, but she wouldn’t say his name aloud. She would protect his secret, even in the midst of a grief that was more powerful than any emotion she’d ever known.
“Lois.”
Her head snapped up, and she saw that Perry, too, had turned in the direction of the faint voice that had just called her name. In a far corner of the cellar, she caught a glimpse of red silk.
“Superman!” she cried exultantly, scrambling up from her knees and racing to Clark’s side. He was wedged behind a cask of wine, leaning heavily against a wall. He had a day’s growth of beard and his face was pinched with pain. Lois thought he’d never looked more beautiful. “You’re here,” she said, frantically touching his face, his shoulders, his chest, feeling the beating of his heart and the warmth of his living flesh. “You’re alive.”
“Just barely,” he whispered, but she saw one corner of his mouth lift in an attempt to smile.
“We’ve got to get you out of here…away from that horrible thing,” she said urgently, realizing that prolonging their reunion wasn’t doing him any good. “Can you walk?”
“I don’t…think so,” he said, his voice obviously weakening. “Crawled over here. Thought you were…” He coughed and flinched against the pain it caused. “Thought you were Luthor.”
“Luthor’s gone,” she said, deciding to save the details of that for later. “You don’t have to worry about him any more. But Perry’s with me, and we can help you try to walk, all right? I need you to try. I need to get you out of here.”
He nodded, apparently having used up his store of words for the moment.
“Lois, where are we taking him?” Perry asked, entering the conversation for the first time.
Lois thought quickly. Under ordinary circumstances, she’d take Clark back to her apartment, but with Lex’s bugs still planted there, that was out of the question. Clark’s place was equally impossible because of Perry, Jimmy, and Jack staying there.
“I’m checking into a hotel,” she said suddenly, “and I’m taking him with me. Help me get him up…please, Perry?”
“Uh, don’t you think he might be a little more comfortable at Clark’s, honey?” he asked in a low voice.
“This man is not leaving my sight,” she said fiercely. “He needs peace and quiet, and he won’t get that at Clark’s place with half the staff of the Planet staying there. My place is still full of Lex’s bugs.”
“Well, that lets that out,” Perry admitted, bending down next to the fallen Superhero.
“Here,” Lois directed him. “Put your arm behind his shoulders…there. Superman,” she said, caressing Clark’s bristly face with a gentle hand. “We’re going to try to help you up now, OK?”
Clark nodded, and with an agonizing groan, he struggled to stand.
Somehow, with Perry’s help and Lois’s encouragement, Clark managed to get to his feet and to put one foot in front of the other long enough to make the long trek to Perry’s car, where he collapsed, apparently unconscious, in the back seat. Perry wrestled his legs far enough in to close the door and then wiped the sweat from his brow.
“Weighs more than he looks, doesn’t he?”
“I guess so,” she agreed, but she was distracted, frantic with worry. Clark had been exposed to Kryptonite before, but never for so long. Jonathan had said that they believed Kryptonite could kill him. What if he was dying in the back seat of Perry’s car? Should she have sent him to the hospital? “No,” she said aloud, to Perry’s bewilderment. She didn’t think Clark would want to go to a hospital, and she wouldn’t take him there without talking to Martha and Jonathan first. She dashed around to the other side of the car. “I’m going to ride back here with him.”
She crawled in, lifting Clark’s head with effort and settling it in her lap. The action seemed to bring him around a little, and as Perry started the car and eased into traffic, Clark began muttering.
“-oisss.”
“It’s me, Superman,” she whispered, carding her fingers through his sticky hair.
“’M glad you’re here,” he slurred.
“I’m glad, too. You’re going to be all right.”
“Don’t…” he said, sounding suddenly more lucid. “Please don’t…”
“Don’t what?” she asked, concerned.
He shook his head a little from side to side. “Don’t have kittens on my favorite shirt.”
She glanced toward the front seat and saw Perry eyeballing them in the rear-view mirror. “He’s delirious,” she said weakly.
“Love that shirt,” Clark went on. “Kittens’ll just mess it all up.”
It’s already a mess, Lois thought, but with Perry watching she didn’t dare argue. Of all the things for Clark to be concerned about at a time like this!
“No kittens,” she promised, and Clark seemed to relax.
His eyes popped open again. “Mom and I used to play Simon Says. Did you ever play Simon Says, Lois?”
“I only liked it if I got to be Simon.”
He gave her a weak smile. “Figures.” He was silent a moment, and then, “That’s where I got the name for the grasshopper. I always loved Simon Says.”
She stroked his cheek gently with the backs of her fingers. It was flushed and burning with fever. “Simon says, ‘rest’, OK?”
He nodded and swallowed hard. “OK.” He shifted a little in the cramped space. “Lois?”
For a guy who claims to love Simon Says, he isn’t very good at it, Lois thought, with a worried glance at Perry. So far their conversation had been strange but innocuous, but she was concerned that Clark might say something to give himself away. As much as she wanted to talk to him, she would rather wait until they had some privacy.
“Yes, Superman?” She hoped the use of the name ‘Superman’ would remind him to be circumspect. He seemed to have forgotten Perry’s existence though.
“Being top banana…it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
“No,” she said, somewhere between laughing and crying. “It sure isn’t. Partners is better, I think.”
“Partners,” he whispered. “I should have told you about the Kryptonite.”
“Yes, you should have,” she murmured. “And I’m going to yell at you for that later…when you’re better.”
“You rescued me.” He sighed, closing his eyes.
“I figured I owed you one.”
“I love you, Lois…” It was the barest whisper, and if she hadn’t been hovering over him, she’d never have heard it.
Tears pricked her eyes and she leaned forward, her lips just millimeters from his ear. “I love you, too, Clark.”
But she wasn’t sure if he heard her. When she drew back and looked at his face, she realized he’d slipped into unconsciousness.
_________________________________
Perry took her to the Metropolis Regal Hotel. It didn’t have quite as good a reputation as the Lexor, but he probably realized that she wouldn’t want to stay in a place associated with Lex Luthor. She sent Perry to get her a room and spent the time while he was gone holding Clark’s hand and whispering to him.
“Don’t you dare die on me, Clark Kent. Don’t you dare. I’ve got a few things to say to you, and you’re going to listen while I say them, and then I’m going to make you believe them if it’s the last thing I do. We’re done waiting, do you hear me? So don’t you dare die, don’t you dare leave me, don’t you dare…”
She continued threatening him in that vein, breaking off only when she heard Perry knock on the door.
“I asked for a room we can get to from the side entrance,” he told her as he climbed into the driver’s seat. “Thought a trip through the lobby would be more attention than we need.”
“Good thinking,” she said.
Perry drove to the side entrance and parked in the handicapped spot. It would be difficult to get more handicapped than Clark was at that moment, Lois thought grimly. The process of dragging him out of the car roused him only enough that he was able to stand a little with their help. His head lolled drunkenly to one side as they manhandled him into the hotel, then the elevator, and then down the hall to the suite Perry had requested, but when Perry went to settle Clark on the sofa – the nearest possible place – Lois objected. “No, Perry – put him in the bedroom. Who knows how long he’s going to have to sleep this off, and he’ll be more comfortable in there.”
Perry nodded grimly and did as she suggested, maneuvering Clark through the bedroom door and onto the bed with little grace. “Lois…are you sure he can sleep this off? This man’s sick. He needs a doctor.”
“No,” she said sharply. “He doesn’t want…listen, Perry, there’s no doctor who knows enough about him or about Kryptonite to help him. He’s been exposed before, OK, and the effects wore off after a day or so.”
“How do you know that?” Perry asked suspiciously.
His mother told me, Lois thought hysterically. No, she couldn’t say that. “I just know, Perry. Listen…I’ve got to make a phone call. Could you get him out of his suit? Cover him up? He’d probably rather you do that than me.”
Perry nodded but looked less than thrilled at the prospect. Superman was completely unconscious, from the looks of things, and getting him out of the skin-tight suit was going to be difficult.
“Here,” Lois said, reaching into her purse and handing Perry some tiny nail scissors she kept in there. “Just cut it off.” When Perry looked uncertain she added. “The suit doesn’t matter, Perry. We need to get him comfortable.”
“All right, honey. You go make your phone call.”
With one final glance at Clark, Lois left the room, closing the door carefully behind her before racing to the phone and dialing the Kent’s phone number with shaking fingers. Martha answered on the first ring, and seconds later Jonathan picked up another extension.
“It’s me,” she whispered. “We’ve got him.”
“Oh, thank goodness!” Martha exclaimed.
“How is he?” Jonathan asked.
“It’s…not good,” Lois admitted, her voice wavering. “He was kept in a cage…a Kryptonite cage. And we almost didn’t get there in time.”
It took a moment for the Kents’ expressions of shock, anger, and concern to sort themselves out into something Lois felt she could answer.
“He’s unconscious,” she said, “but he talked to me a little when we found him and then in the car on the way here. Perry helped me bring him to the Regal hotel and is trying to make him comfortable in the bedroom. But…I don’t know what to do for him. How do I help him?”
“Lois, we’ll be on the first plane out,” Martha said. “But in the meantime, just let him rest, and if he wakes up try to make him drink something. He was feverish last time, so a cool cloth might help. Just stay with him, honey, and we’ll be there as soon as we can.”
“Drink something…cool cloth,” Lois repeated. “Come straight here, OK? I’m on the fifth floor – room 503.”
“As fast as we can,” Jonathan promised.
“Thank you,” Lois whispered, nearly weeping with gratitude that there were people to whom she could turn for help and support. She put the phone back in the cradle just as Perry came out of her bedroom, his hands full of shredded blue spandex.
“The cape’s all right, but I couldn’t salvage this,” he said, indicating the ruined suit.
“It doesn’t matter.” Lois took the spandex from his hands and tossed it on the sofa. “Is he still unconscious?”
“Yeah. And I’m no doctor, but I don’t see him waking up for a while. Did you make your phone call?”
“Yes. I, uh, talked to Clark,” she lied, suddenly inspired. “He’s going to come help me take care of Superman, but it may be a while before he can get here. He couldn’t believe he’d missed all the excitement.”
“Right,” Perry said, giving her a skeptical look. “So do you need me to stay ‘til he gets here?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Like you said, Superman will probably just sleep. Go back and tell the others what happened. They’ll be waiting.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.” She crossed over and gave Perry a hug. “Thank you, Perry,” she whispered. “Thank you for everything you did today.”
“You don’t have to thank me, darlin’,” he answered gruffly, patting her back. “Just take care of that fellow in there. He’s a good man.”
“Yeah,” Lois agreed. She drew away and took a deep, fortifying breath. “Listen, Perry, about what you probably heard in the car…”
Perry held up his hands. “I didn’t hear a thing, Lois. I was concentrating on my driving…all that traffic…I had better things to do than listen to a man who was probably delirious anyway.”
She nodded, grateful. “Thanks, Perry.”
“Call me if you need me. I’ll be at Clark’s.”
She tiptoed into the bedroom, but she could have entered by helicopter for all it mattered to Clark. She was the daughter of a gifted, albeit wacky, physician and a registered nurse, yet none of their medical knowledge seemed to have rubbed off on their elder daughter. Actually, that wasn’t true; she simply hadn’t been interested enough in sick people to pay any attention to what her parents did for a living. She couldn’t tell if Clark was having a revivifying sleep or had drifted into a coma, and panic swelled within her at the thought. She approached the bed and touched her hand to his flushed forehead, wincing at the heat that radiated off of him. His hair had fallen out of it’s slicked-back, Superman arrangement during the wrestling match with Perry to remove the suit and was in something closer to Clark’s usual style. She knew, looking at Clark lying in the bed, that if Perry had had any doubts going into that hotel room, he couldn’t possibly have had them when he’d left. It was something to deal with later, if at all.
She remembered Martha’s advice and went to the bathroom to soak a washcloth in cool water. Four clean glasses had been left on the vanity, so she filled one of those as well, wishing she’d sent Perry for ice before he’d left. From the looks of things, Clark wasn’t going to be awake enough to drink anything for a while anyway, however, so she decided to let the ice go for the moment, instead filling the ice bucket with water and dropping a second washcloth in before returning to Clark’s bedside.
She put her supplies on the bedside table and sat carefully on the bed beside Clark. She wiped gently at his face, over and over, until the washcloth heated up and she had to exchange it for the second one. She fell into a pattern, soothing herself with the rhythm of her ministrations. Starting in the middle of the brow and moving down toward first one temple and then the other. Under his eyes, so bare and vulnerable without his glasses. Then his cheeks, feeling the tug of his whiskers on the terrycloth fabric. Then his parched lips, his chin, and down his neck, always pausing to touch two fingers to the reassuring pulse that thudded there. Upon reaching his clavicle, she exchanged the now-warm washcloth for the fresh one in the ice bucket and started all over again.
She never ventured lower. Perry had left Clark covered lightly with a sheet, and every instinct told her that Clark would want it that way. Her sweet, modest, old-fashioned farmboy, she thought tenderly; he’d been embarrassed that she’d seen pictures of him in the bathtub when he was four. He would hate having her see him like this, hate having her see him so vulnerable.
And Lex had put him in a cage…like an animal, a thing. Had tortured him and rendered him helpless. The sheer rage that inspired nearly took her breath away. Her temper was legendary, but never had she thought herself capable of such stark, unadulterated hate. Lex had done the world a favor when he’d thrown himself off the balcony, and nothing and no one would ever convince her otherwise. It wouldn’t surprise her to find that Clark was incapable of such uncharitable thoughts, but she’d be bitter enough for the both of them.
She kept at it for more than an hour, until Clark began to sweat – beads of perspiration on his brow, at first, and then steady rivulets that drenched his hair, his pillow, his sheets. She hoped this was a sign his fever was breaking, but she wasn’t sure. Once upon a time, Lois Lane would have been repulsed by the sticky sheets and the sour smell of the sweat-soaked body in her care. She wasn’t good with sick people, she’d said a hundred times, with a careless little flip of her hand. But this wasn’t people, this was Clark, and for the first time in her life, she wished she could absorb another person’s pain and suffering, take it into her own body and go through it for him. Suddenly, the concept of loving someone took on a whole new meaning, and whatever she’d thought it meant before was but a pale shadow of what she felt for the man whose fevered skin she soothed with her hands.
He began to toss his head from side to side and to attempt to push the covers away. Lois tried to keep him covered but was thankful when in the process of rescuing the sheet once again, she caught a glimpse of dark briefs. At least if she wasn’t able to keep the sheet over him, his modesty would be somewhat preserved.
“Clark,” she said soothingly. “It’s all right. You’re all right now.” She cupped his cheek in her hand and pressed a kiss to his damp forehead. “Try to rest, Clark. It’s all right.” She said it over and over again, trying to calm him, trying to make it be the truth.
“Hurts,” he whispered back.
“I know,” she said, laughing and crying at the same time from sheer relief at the sound of his voice. “I’m so sorry, Clark. I wish I could make it better.”
“Just…stay,” he breathed, and then his eyes drifted shut again and he slipped back into sleep.
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A/N: Whew! This was actually supposed to be two parts, but I went ahead and combined them. Clark was getting awfully tired of that cage. The last part should be up in a day or two, so the end is truly in sight. Thanks so much to all who have followed the story so far. I hope you’re continuing to enjoy it as it moves toward its conclusion.
