PREVIOUSLY IN LOST...
Was she over-reacting? It was just a van with stolen license plates. Why even connect it to Clark? But... Clark was supposed to disappear today. What if the history books were wrong? What if there never was some deserted island? What if foul play was involved? As soon as the idea occurred to her, she was certain she was right. Her heart was suddenly in her throat. Clark was in real danger. She felt panic rise in her chest.
Damn! How could she have been so stupid? Clark would never run away from his responsibilities - no matter how miserable he was. That was why he hadn’t appeared even when the world had blown itself to pieces. There was no tropical island and sandy beaches. Clark Kent had died on May 11th, 1999. If only she hadn’t been so stupid.
AND NOW...
* * * * * * * * *
CHAPTER 13
* * * * * * * * *
No. There was no time for self-recrimination now. Right now the only thing that mattered was saving Clark. Everything else could wait. And this was no time to panic. She could not. Clark’s life was at risk. She closed her eyes, forcing herself to calm down. So what did she do now? Approach the van? Go to the apartment? If only there was a way to see into the apartment without being seen.
Her mind flashed back to her first time at Clark’s place. The balcony. Of course. The fire escape at the back had allowed her to get onto a ledge that took her to the balcony. She quickly headed down a back alley to the ladder. A few minutes later, she was making her way quietly on the ledge, slipping down onto the balcony. She smiled. The fern was still here. Hiding behind it, she peeked around it to get a look inside.
She had to fight back a gasp when she saw Preston Carpenter and two thugs standing in the middle of Clark’s living room. She crept up to the door. The glass was broken. Ten to one odds, that was how Carpenter and the thugs had gotten into the apartment. But... where was Clark? Was he even there? And if so, why wasn’t he kicking that creep’s butt half way around the block?
No. He must not be here yet. So what was Carpenter up to? He obviously had it in for Clark. He’d made that painfully obvious even before he’d been fired. Now that he had been fired... She could only imagine how much he must hate Clark.
So what to do? The answer was obvious. Get out of here and find Clark. She was just about to step away from the window when Carpenter moved. This time she couldn’t quite stifle the gasp when she saw Clark lying on the floor at Carpenter’s feet, barely conscious. She bit into her bottom lip when Carpenter kicked Clark in the ribs. Clark’s face contorted in pain. It was obvious from the bruises already beginning to form on Clark’s face that this wasn’t the first injury he’d sustained.
Her muscles tensed, her immediate instinct to rush the room. But she quickly quelled that impulse. She had to think. Kyrptonite. That was the only thing that made sense. Carpenter had kryptonite somewhere in the room. And although she couldn’t see a gun on Carpenter, she clearly saw the gun holsters strapped across the goons’ chests. What she wouldn’t give to have her palm computer right now so that she could call the police.
She snuck closer to the broken window, hoping to be able to hear what was going on inside.
“Why?” Clark’s voice was soft, strained. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because you got me fired!” Carpenter bellowed.
“But... kryptonite... you must have been planning this even before then.”
Carpenter crouched down so that he could look directly into Clark’s face. “That’s right. Oh, of course, I hadn’t intended to do this here - in your apartment. But Lois Lewis’ article and the firestorm it touched off gave me a break I hadn’t expected. I had intended to send you to a warehouse in search of a phony story and have the kryptonite waiting for you there. But with the paparazzi leaving, that wasn’t necessary. I can come in here, anyone can, any time they want. Of course, after tonight it won’t be necessary.”
“But why?” Clark answered, breathing heavily. “Is it because I’m not human?”
“I couldn’t care less if your human or not,” Carpenter sneered.
“Then why?”
“You’re the one person who could stop me. I couldn’t make my move until you were gone. With your hearing, I couldn’t have you working feet away from my office. I tried to get you to quit, to make things too difficult for you. But you took every insulting thing I did and kept coming back for more. So now... I guess it’s about revenge now.” He leaned closer to Clark. “Bet you wish you’d quit now, huh?”
“What is this plan of yours?”
“Whoever controls the news, controls the people,” Carpenter began. “I will get another job, at another paper. Then I will out scoop other papers. And if I can’t out scoop them, I’ll create the news and then make sure my reporters are right there to report it. Soon, everyone will be following my lead. And I will be the one shaping public opinion. Yes, I’ll get another job. But you won’t get another life.”
As Carpenter continued his ‘control what people think’ drivel, Lois directed her mind to the problem at hand. Two goons. Two guns - at least that she could see. One Carpenter. And, unless she missed her guess, one piece of kryptonite verses one her and one very injured Clark.
Of course, an injured Clark could still be pretty remarkable. He’d eaten a bomb shortly after being exposed to kryptonite the last time. On the other hand, he hadn’t been able to crush the bomb. So that meant... What exactly did that mean?
That meant that if she could get rid of the kryptonite, maybe just maybe, it would be her and one slightly damaged Superman against the rest. She had to admit, she liked those odds better. So where would the kryptonite be? Close to Superman obviously. But where? And could she get to it?
She was just about to enter the apartment when she realized that she was being watched from an apartment across the back alley. She recognized the woman who had given her the information on what it was like having Superman living in her neighborhood.
She looked at the woman before looking back inside the apartment, flinching when Carpenter punctuated his latest comment with another kick. She looked back at the woman, holding up one of her hands, her thumb at her ear and her little finger next to her mouth in the international - or so she hoped - symbol for phone. Then she held up nine fingers followed by two single digits flashed one after the other. Lois held her breath, hoping they had had 9-1-1 in 1999. The woman went into her apartment, leaving Lois to hope that her message had been understood.
So what to do now? Wait for the police?
“So how long do you take to die?” Carpenter asked impatiently.
Lois’ decision was made in an instant. She didn’t have time to wait for the police. Getting down on her hands and knees, she crawled through the broken glass door, refusing to cry out in pain when a piece of glass embedded itself in her hand. She stopped long enough to remove the glass before proceeding forward.
Reaching the washroom, she snuck inside. She’d seen what she needed while in there this morning. Spotting the hand-held mirror, she picked it up. She wondered if there was anything she could use for a weapon. No curling iron that she could stick in one of the goon’s back and pretend was a gun. Razor! She looked in the vanity. No razor. She glanced towards the door. How did he shave anyway? Weapon. Weapon. Now was not the time to wonder how her boyfriend shaved. She was looking for a weapon. Hair brush. Please! But... plunger. She picked it up gingerly. After tonight there would be a baseball bat in this room. In every room, in point of fact. For now, this seemed to be the best she was going to do.
She leaned her back against the wall inside the door to the washroom and used the mirror to look around the corner. She swept the mirror around the room until she spotted the kryptonite sitting on the kitchen table.
She took a deep breath. Good. Not a long way to go. Now she just had to wait for the right moment. She might be able to get in and out before they even saw her. She held the mirror, watching Carpenter as he continued to torment Clark. At least there was one advantage to Carpenter’s need to berate the Man of Steel - it would make it harder for them to hear her. She adjusted the mirror. She could see Carpenter and one of the thugs. But where was the other one? On the other hand, did it really matter? He wasn’t out there. Hopefully he’d gone out to get something from the van. She slipped off her shoes to create less noise and crouched down as she waited to make her move. Run low. Run fast. Her heart was pounding and her hands sweating. And then it came. The moment when both backs were turned. Taking a deep breath, she dashed to the table, praying the men wouldn’t turn around.
She picked up the rock. Both of the men were still turned away from her. Just a moment more and she’d be home free. She kept her eyes on the two men as she dashed back to her hiding place...
...running straight into the chest of goon number two.
“Well, well. What have we got here?” the man asked.
Lois spun against him, swinging with the plunger, trying to dislodge his arm and... breaking free for a moment, she flung the rock as hard as she could at the closest window. Success. The rock shattered the glass and was hurled outside as strong arms were wrapped around her from behind. But it didn’t matter. That damn rock was gone. Clark would recover.
Unless, of course, they went out into the street and found it. But the cops should be on their way there. Surely she’d bought Clark enough time to survive until their arrival. At least, if there was a merciful god above. Unfortunately, not even years of being raised by the nuns had persuaded Lois with any degree of certainty in a merciful god, so she bit and kicked and fought the man holding her as he dragged her into the living room.
Carpenter’s eyes lit up when he realized who had been caught. Lois could almost see the wheels turning in his mind. She’d flirted with him shamelessly to get him to open up about Clark. She hadn’t given him her real name of course. She’d called herself ‘Lo Lo’ - a nick name she’d picked up for a short time in high school. He’d never asked her last name. In point of fact, she suspected, he didn’t even know her first name since all through lunch he’d called her ‘my dear.’
“Well, my dear. Why am I not surprised to find you here? I knew you must have been the one who betrayed me.”
Lois fought back a laugh. She doubted the idea had even occurred to him until he saw her.
“Might I venture a guess that your real name is Lois Lewis?” he continued.
“Now that is probably the only intelligent thing I’ve ever heard you say,” Lois said, unable to hold her tongue any longer.
“Lois, no.”
Lois heard Clark’s faint moan from the floor, but it seemed Carpenter was turning too many shades of red to hear it because he ignored Clark and stepped closer to her.
“Mr. Carpenter,” the goon holding her said, “before I could stop her...”
Carpenter held up his hand, demanding silence. Okay. This was going well. The longer she could keep Carpenter obsessed with her, the longer she could keep him from hearing about the kryptonite and sending one of his men to get it. And the more time she gave the police to get there and to let Clark regain his strength, the better their chances. She just needed to annoy Carpenter a little more - especially if goon number two decided to try to get the information about the kryptonite to him.
“In fact, this whole ‘control the country by controlling the press’ thing you’ve got going on is just about the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” Lois began. “Oh, wait. I get it. You saw ‘Citizen Kane’ as a child and grew up thinking you were Randolph Hearst. Please. Even Randolph Hearst wasn’t Randolph Hearst. On sure, he managed to bury that producer... What was his name?” She shook her head as if it didn’t matter. “...when he made ‘Citizen Kane.’”
She watched his eyes leap with fury even as his face turned a deeper shade of purple.
“Sir, I really think you need...”
“Enough!” Carpenter snapped at both Lois and the goon. “Randolph Hearst was a genius and I intend to follow in his...”
“Randolph Hearst was a wannabe,” Lois interrupted.
In spite of all the provocation, she was still slightly shocked when his hand landed painfully across her cheek. She fought back the tears that sprang to her eyes in response to the pain. Anytime now. She should hear police sirens anytime now.
“Sir, I really think...”
“That’s the best you’ve got?” Lois interrupted when the goon began to speak. “I bet you use ‘Rosebud’ as the password for your computer, too,” she sneered, really hoping that the movie version of the ‘Rise and Fall of Randolph Hearst’ that she’d seen during her senior year of journalism school accurately portrayed the movie Citizen Kane. “Amateur,” she finished on a mumble.
“No, Lois,” Clark begged.
She ignored him, keeping her eyes on Carpenter.
“You’d have been better off minding your knitting, my dear. But before I teach you what it means to undermine me, I think we have a little unfinished business.”
Lois tilted her head to the side. Unfinished business?
“You promised me a night I’d never forget.” The raw tone of his voice made it very clear what he was saying. Although she suspected right now his desires were motivated more by anger than passion. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. Maybe anger would make him sloppy. Maybe it would bring him close enough that she could do some serious damage.
Carpenter did hear the groan Clark made this time. Lois glanced at Clark. He didn’t seem to be one iota better now than when she’d first thrown the kryptonite out of the apartment. Was it not far enough away? Had the other injuries he’d suffered been that bad?
“Sounds like your boyfriend here isn’t too keen on it. But it’s a good thing he’s here. It will give him a chance to see how you respond to a real man. Too bad he won’t live long enough to benefit from the lesson.”
“I promised you a night?” she said, total incredulity in her voice. “Yeah, right.” She was pleased that she managed to inject just the right tone to make the entire idea sound totally absurd - almost as if he’d suggested that she have sex with a snake. Although, in a way, he sort of had.
The tone seemed to work better than she’d intended. His eyes flashed and then a moment later he was crossing the small space between them, his lips descending on hers. He grabbed her breasts so hard that she suspected he was leaving bruises. She twisted her head, attempting to break the kiss and her knee came up. He stumbled back just in time to avoid her knee - although he definitely saw it and realized its intended destination.
“Bitch!” he yelled, storming towards her
Lois prepared for a strike that never came. It took her a moment to realize that Clark had managed to rise from the floor, attacking Carpenter. Lois hesitated less than a heartbeat before taking the moment to spin against the man holding her, surprising him with her unexpected movement and breaking free. Lois stumbled, falling to the floor and then rolling quickly to avoid recapture.
She got a peek at Clark who was in serious hand to hand combat with Carpenter. It briefly crossed her mind that he must be a little bit better and that his failure to move earlier had to be because he’d been waiting for the right moment to make his move.
Still, she didn’t have time to think about that. She scrambled to her feet and then kicked out at the goon coming towards her, landing a solid kick to his jaw. He collapsed like a rag-doll, unconscious. She looked at him, slightly surprised before spinning around, looking for the other goon.
Bang!
The sharp sound of the second goon firing a gun into the ceiling caused Lois, Clark and Carpenter to all freeze, looking towards the sound. A second shot was directed at Clark.
“No!” Lois yelled, rushing towards him as the shot spun him around and to the floor. Panic kept her moving even as she felt more than heard a bullet whizz past her ear. Dropping to the ground beside Clark, she gently touched him.
“Enough!” Carpenter said behind her. “You’re going to wake up the dead with all that gunfire.”
Lois ignored them, taking comfort from Clark’s labored breathing. He was still alive. Although, for how long, she didn’t know. “Clark,” she said softly. When he groaned in response, she gently helped him roll over, gasping when she saw the blood beginning to soak his shirt at his shoulder. Still, relief washed over her. The bullet had embedded itself in his shoulder which she didn’t think was quite as dangerous as his chest or his stomach.
She placed her hand over the wound, attempting to control the bleeding, flinching when he groaned in pain.
“Uhh... Well, now that’s more like it,” Carpenter said, realizing that the balance of power had shifted back in his favor.
Lois cringed. He sounded so cocky. And he had every right to be cocky. How would she ever be able to get Clark out of here now?
“Metropolis P.D.,” came an artificially enhanced voice from outside the apartment. “Everyone come out of the apartment with their hands up.”
There was a tense moment of silence.
“Okay,” Lois said slowly, turning so that she could address the goon with the gun. “Here’s the way I see it. Right now you are looking at assault charges. Do you really want to face murder charges? Because I have a feeling those cops outside aren’t about to let you go. And if you do the right thing now, they are more likely to go easy on you.”
“Never!” Carpenter said, taking a step towards the goon. He stopped when the gun in the goon’s hand shifted until it was pointing directly at Carpenter. “What are you doing?” Carpenter demanded.
“You said we was taking out Superman. That’s why I signed up. I ain’t goin’ down for killin’ no unarmed woman.”
“Incompetents,” Carpenter muttered even as Lois smiled.
Realizing the power had shifted once again, she placed Clark’s hand over the gunshot wound and rose to her feet. She took in the situation, realizing she needed to do two things. First, she needed to neutralize Carpenter. Then she needed to disarm the goon. She stepped up to Carpenter. “This is for groping me,” she said before landing her fist solidly against his chin, sending him stumbling to the floor. Then she reached towards the goon who immediately handed her the gun.
Letting out a breath of relief, she headed for the door, carefully opened it to admit the officers. “Everything is under control,” she yelled. “You can come in now. Just... be careful,” she said before dashing over to where Clark was still lying on the floor. She grabbed a throw cushion off the couch and, removing his hand, placed the cushion over his wound, holding it tight against him. Their eyes met, silently communicating their gratitude that the other was still alive. Sighing, she leaned over him, touching her forehead against his and closing her eyes. That was how the police found them.
* * * * * * * * *
Lois handed Clark a cup of tea she’d smuggled into his hospital room before sitting down on the side of the bed facing him. Once the police had secured Carpenter and the goons, they’d called for an ambulance. Clark had maintained that he’d be fine, but Lois had silenced that impulse with a single look. There was no way she was taking any chances. Besides, with an entry wound and no exit wound, she’d logically pointed out that the bullet was still inside him. Regaining his powers wasn’t likely to change that. And he’d be wise to take care of it while he was still vulnerable.
She’d sat next to him in the ambulance, unable to let go of his hand as they raced through the streets. The fear she’d first felt when she’d looked into his apartment to find him lying helpless on the floor was still flowing through her. It wasn’t until he was rolled into surgery that she’d finally left - realizing that she had to find the kryptonite before the story got out. She refused to allow herself to think about the possibility that Clark could die in surgery. She wouldn’t allow it. That was all there was to that.
She’d climbed through garbage bins outside his window, silently cursing Carpenter for ruining her new clothes - blood and garbage that was never going to come out - before finding it mixed in with some old, rotting vegetables and something brown she couldn’t identify. She wasn’t entirely sure what to do with it, so she’d given Dr. Klein a call at Star Labs. He’d come and taken it from her, telling her that he’d be sure it was stored safely until he received instructions from Clark about its final disposition. As she’d been digging, she’d remembered David telling her that several pieces had been found in Shuster’s field in Smallville, Kansas during some housing project there. As soon as Clark regained his powers, a clean-up job was going to be their first order of business.
In the meantime, she’d showered and changed. Then she rescued the groceries she’d purchased before cleaning up the apartment the best she could. When she arrived back at the hospital, she’d been informed that the surgery had gone well and that Clark was in recovery. He was, however, still unconscious and it would be a while before she’d be allowed in. So she’d opened up his old-fashioned laptop computer and written up the story as she’d waited - putting it under a joint ‘Lane and Kent’ byline. She hoped Clark wouldn’t mind, but this was going to be her ‘coming out’ party as the new force to be reckoned with in Metropolis.
She’d stared at that name for a long time afterwards. Lois Lane. Part of her, even now when she knew who she was, was tempted to stick with the last name of Lewis. But it didn’t make sense. After all, there was a birth certificate in her own name, with her own birthdate. October 7th. That was another adjustment she would have to make. And with a birth certificate, she could get a social insurance number and from there she could open a bank account, and do all the things that established her as a person.
It occurred to her that she had to have parents, parents who didn’t know what had happened to her. The thought of meeting them was exciting and daunting at the same time. Were they still alive? What if she had siblings? Maybe even nieces and nephews. Strangers. In many ways, Clark was her family and she was his. Still, she would add finding her parents to her list of things to do once Clark had recovered. The whole idea was a little scary. What if she didn’t like them? What if they didn’t like her? She suspected by the time she looked them up, she’d be a nervous wreck. Still, there was plenty of time to worry about that later. For now... She looked up when a nurse called her name, informing her that she could go in to sit with him.
Lois’ heart had been in her throat when she saw him lying in the bed, hooked up to a number of different machines. He looked so vulnerable - not a word she’d normally associate with Superman. She quietly walked over to the chair at the head of his bed. Taking a seat, she reached up, laying a hand on his cheek, assuring herself that he was still alive.
She sat there for what seemed like an eternity, hardly breathing as she waited for him to wake. By the time he finally opened his eyes and looked at her, she felt as if she’d died a thousand deaths. After a few sweet words of reassurance, she accepted his invitation and crawled into the bed next to him, more concerned about feeling his heart beating next to hers than with what any hospital staff might think if they saw them together. The only thing that mattered was that Clark wanted her there. And that she needed to be there.
It wasn’t until the doctor came in, announcing that he needed to examine his patient that Lois got out of the bed to head downstairs to the cafeteria to get Clark a cup of tea. The doctor was gone when she returned. She knocked, feeling almost shy as she slowly pushed the door open. His welcoming smile calmed her nerves.
“How you doing, flyboy?” she asked, stepping forward to give him the tea before taking a seat next to him.
“Not bad - considering. The doctor says he wants me to stay the night. My anatomy isn’t exactly the same as a normal human...”
“Could have fooled me,” Lois muttered, fixing him with a teasing stare.
Clark rolled his eyes although the fingers of one of his hands curled around hers. “They want to make sure there aren’t any complications.”
She nodded. “Any idea when your powers will return?”
He shook his head.
“You know you scared me so much when...” She shook her head, unable to continue.
“Hey, I’m fine... thanks to you.” His hand came up to cup her cheek.
She smiled, her hand covering his. “I guess our quiet supper at home is out,” she said regretfully.
He smiled. “I like the sound of that.”
She looked at him for a moment, not understanding the comment. What did he like? Did he like not having to spend the evening alone with her?
“You referring to my apartment as ‘home.’ I like the sound of that.”
She smiled, her concerns vanishing. Her thoughts suddenly became more reflective. Clark had never disappeared. He’d been killed. Now that they had changed that, how would that effect the future she had known, the people she had known?
“So are you glad you stayed?” he asked, her reflective mood obviously coming across to him as regret.
Still, she had no regrets. None whatsoever. But he seemed too serious. “Oh, no. You’ve made me feel right at home. Being attacked by goons on my first night. Nope. Couldn’t feel more at home if I tried,” she said, smiling.
He laughed.
“Still, we just seriously changed history today. I can’t help wondering what happened to Da... everyone as a result.”
He pulled her hand over, gently raising it to his lips to kiss it.
TO BE CONTINUED...
(We're heading into the home stretch, people. One more chapter to go.)
ML
