This is chapter 2 of the [K]nightfall "arc", which is set in my "
Clark Kent is Batman... NOT! " series.
You can read
Chapter 1 here, in case you missed it.
~.~.~
~[K]nightfall~ Chapter 2 – "In Name Only." ~.~.~
Metropolis - An hour and a half after Nightfall. "Lois!" Perry said loudly.
"Huh?" she answered, startled, almost jumping out of her seat. "Yes, yes, of course."
The editor cocked his head slightly to the side and raised an eyebrow. "Of course? Lois! You haven't heard a word I've said, have you?"
Her mind was millions of miles away. Literally. She couldn't get the image out of her head of Superman smashing into the asteroid. And then that voice again... over and over.
"We have lost transmission with Superman." "Perry, I'm sorry. Really, I am. I just..." The lump in her throat grew a few sizes more, threatening to choke her. Her eyes filled with tears again. "I can't do this. I can't."
"Aww, Lois..." He got up from behind his desk and joined her on the couch. "I understand this is hard for you, but we need something for tonight's edition," he said calmly. "Now, the thing is, there are only two people who can write this story. There's Clark, but apparently he went off and joined the search for Superman. Which is fine, provided he calls in with news sometime soon. Then there's you. And since you're the only one here
now who was down at EPRAD this morning when it all happened, you're the only one who can give me a firsthand account. So, honey, I know it's not easy, but you're going to have to write it. We both know you're the best one for the job anyway, right?"
She nodded.
"There you go, that's my girl!" Perry exclaimed, patting her shoulder lightly.
"OK, I'll do it," Lois told him, wiping under her eyes with the tips of her fingers. "Just... don't expect any touchy-feely stuff." She gave a small, nervous chuckle and got up, pulling down on her vest, in a determined fashion.
An hour, and a handful of Kleenex later, Lois put the last dot at the end of her article. She sent it off to the chief editor, grabbed her jacket, and left the newsroom.
~.~.~
For a long time that evening, Lois walked down the streets of Metropolis. She wasn't going anywhere specific; she just kept on going, nose up in the air, desperately searching the sky for any signs of Superman. It was all she could do to look down every once in a while and make sure she didn't end up face first in the side of a building.
"Excuse me," she said absently when she rammed her shoulder into a telephone pole. Not bothering to look back, she walked on.
She'd been to her apartment earlier but had found that she just couldn't stay there and do nothing. There was still no news on Superman and she was sick of seeing the same images on TV over and over again. She'd been seeing them in her mind all day - every time she closed her eyes - there was no need to watch them on TV as well.
When she had first walked into the apartment and seen the blinking light on her answering machine, her heart had almost leapt out of her chest. Clark, she'd thought automatically, it had to be Clark.
But it had turned out to be her sister, Lucy, asking if she could crash there over the weekend. Lois hadn't bothered to listen to the message until the end or to call Lucy back. She'd do it later. Maybe. If she remembered.
After a long while of eyeing the phone and the window alternatively - obsessively - Lois had felt an urgent need to leave. As if the walls were starting to close in on her. She had thrown a coat on and had walked out the door, barely remembering to lock her door properly before she went.
She came back home in the small hours of the night. The TV was still on in her living room, still showing images from this morning, almost making her wish something else - something more newsworthy - would happen elsewhere in the world. There were no messages on her answering machine, this time. And while her window had been left open while she was gone, there was no sign that anyone - and by anyone she thought of only one person - had flown in through it at all this evening.
Lois quickly shut the window and the drapes, after taking one last look at the night sky. It was freezing cold in her apartment now and besides, there was no point in keeping the window opened. It had been a long time since Superman had stopped coming in through there anyway. He usually came in as himself, through the door.
A noise caught Lois's attention. She ran to her front door, almost crashing into it, and looked through the peephole, her heart pounding madly. But there was no one there. Not even a cat...
"Where are you?" she asked out loud, backing up from the door.
Slowly, she walked to her bedroom and let herself drop on the bed. Soon, her body was racked with sobs.
The sun had been up for almost a full hour by the time exhaustion got the better of Lois and she finally drifted to sleep.
~.~.~
Gotham, an underground cavern - Several hours after Nightfall An explosion of noise in his head woke him up brutally. His hand flew to his ears, attempting to block the sounds. Eyes shut tightly, his teeth gritted in a cringe and he doubled over in pain.
"Aaahhh," he screamed.
But the noise did not stop. For several long minutes he remained, curled up in a ball on the ground. Unbearably loud sounds continued to invade his head, threatening to make his brain explode at any moment.
"Make it stop!" he roared in agony, ramming his fists to the ground as hard as he could.
He did not notice that the ground shook upon impact of his hands, nor did he realize that his fists had punched deep holes through the rock at his sides.
He tried to concentrate, but it was almost impossible. There was too much noise!
Voices, he realized. Millions of voices.
Who were they? Where did they come from? And why, oh why, were they shouting at him?
Men. Women. Children. All kept screaming. Screaming in pain, screaming with anger, screaming their joy. Screaming together, screaming at each other. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he might have heard someone screaming in ecstasy, too.
"Stop!Stop!Stop!Stop!" he repeated, over and over, though he could not hear himself over the others.
The voices did not stop. They kept going on and on, slowly driving him towards the brink of insanity. Until finally, he lost consciousness again.
The voices were still there when he woke up, several hours later.
~.~.~
Metropolis - Search for Superman, Day One "...search for Superman this morning..."
Lois slowly opened her eyes at the mention of Superman's name coming from the TV set. She dragged herself to the living room and stared blearily at the screen.
"...still await any sign that the Man of Steel made it back safely..." the voice from the television explained.
Lois slapped both hands on her mouth and shut her eyes, trying to keep from crying again.
They hadn't found him.
He wasn't back.
While in her heart hope that he was all right still remained, dark thoughts started waging a war in her head. She tried to banish them, to replace them with positive, encouraging things... But the "you knew it could happen", "he won't be coming back" and other such depressing thoughts were just too strong!
"No..." she choked out.
Frustrated, she grabbed the remote and shut off the television set. Letting the remote drop on the couch beside her, she got up and headed for the bathroom. A nice, hot shower would help, she told herself. It usually did.
But twenty minutes of searing hot water cascading down her back and Lois was still as disconsolate as she had when she had first turned the shower on.
~.~.~
Lois stumbled into the newsroom and looked around. No sign of Clark. Not that she had really expected to see him there, but for a fleeting second, as the elevator doors had opened, she had dared hope that perhaps he might be.
He wasn't.
She made her way to her desk and pretty much fell into her chair, sighing heavily.
"Hey Lois," Jimmy called out to her. "You feeling any better?"
"Hi, Jimmy. Yeah, I'll be okay," she lied. "There's still no news, is there?"
"Nope." He shrugged. "I'm sure he's fine. I mean, he is invulnerable, right? He couldn't possibly be hurt. He's just not able to get in touch with us. Maybe he's recuperating on the space station or something."
Lois eyed him wearily. If Superman was on the space station, someone would know he was there! But she didn't feel like arguing about it with Jimmy. She might be taking this very hard, but she wasn't the only one who was worried. Jimmy was, too. And she was certain Clark – and Superman - had other friends who were also anxious to see him again. They were probably out looking for him, as a matter of fact.
Out looking for him! That was where she had told Perry that Clark had gone... And if she knew their editor at all, he was probably starting to wonder why Clark hadn't bothered to check in since yesterday.
Left with two possible courses of action, Lois picked the one she thought was right, though it wouldn't be the easiest. Not by a long shot.
She'd promised Clark never to breathe a word to anyone about his secret identity and this was one promise she was determined not to break. As long as there was still a chance he was alive – as long as there was still some sort of hope – she would do everything in her power to make it appear as though Clark was still around. If and when they were able to prove otherwise... well, she's cross that bridge when she got there.
If she got there.
In the meantime, she'd find a way to make this work. If she had to go so far as to write articles and sign them with his name, she would. She'd even force herself to adopt his touchy-feely style of writing.
Anything. Whatever it took.
There was
no way anyone was going to find out that Clark was Superman.
~.~.~
When she left the Planet that evening, Lois decided to walk home instead of riding in a cab as she usually did. She knew the cabbie would probably end up talking to her about Superman. It was all anyone had talked about all day and she was rather certain she'd break down if she had to hear yet one more person expressing grief over the loss of a great hero.
He wasn't lost yet, for one thing. She couldn't bring herself to believe it. Until someone presented her with actual, tangible proof to the contrary, there was still hope and she would cling to it with all her heart.
Not only that, but hearing people put Superman on a pedestal all day had only served to annoy her. Just a few weeks before, he'd been accused of endangering the people of Metropolis and had been forced to leave the city – they'd even thrown him in jail! And even though she had proved that he wasn't guilty of anything and the charges had been dropped, they'd been rather weary of him ever since. But now... oh, now was different. Now, he'd risked his
life. Now, he was a hero. Pfft! Hypocrites, all of them!
Besides, all they ever talked about was how great and how strong he was. But Lois knew that powers alone did not make the man. Superman was no one without Clark Kent. It wasn't his strength or his speed – or even the fact that he could fly. It was his kindness, his values, his heart that made him who he was. His constant optimism, his unshakable belief in the goodness of people, his aspiration to make the world a better place. Just the fact that he cared so much about everyone else around him. He'd gone out into space to destroy an asteroid that could very well have ended all life on earth. And that he'd done it without regard for his own life.
That wasn't Superman. That was Clark Kent. But only a precious few people were aware of this fact.
Though Lois had intended to walk home, her steps had led her to Clark's instead. She frowned as she realized she was standing in front of his building, wondering how she had ended up there in the first place.
It was late and the night had turned colder. The prospect of walking all the way back to her place wasn't exactly appealing. Maybe she could go inside and call a cab? She knew where to find the spare key, after all. Or maybe she'd just go inside and stay there for a while...
As she approached the front door, Lois realized there was a light on inside. How could there be a light on? Heart pounding in her chest, her hand flew to the doorknob – the door was locked. She knocked. Hard. Then she waited nervously, listening intensely for any sound that might come from the other side of the door.
Suddenly, there was a creaking noise. He was there? He... He'd come back? Clark was home?
Then the lock turned and the door opened.
Lois's eyes grew wide as she was greeted, not by Clark, but by his mother.
"Martha?" she asked, letting out the breath she'd been holding. She craned her neck and tried to look inside. "Is... Is Clark... uh..."
"Oh, honey, no. I'm sorry," the older woman said in that same kind, maternal tone she always used. "But don't just stand there, come in, come in." She ushered Lois inside.
"We haven't heard from him yet," Jonathan offered as he walked over to them. He seemed just as discouraged about it as they all did.
"Oh. I thought... you know, maybe? Because the light was on and, you guys were here and... I mean, you know? I just figured -" Lois stopped cold, realizing she'd gone into full babble mode. The last thing the Kents needed now was to have to deal with a basket case! If she was having a hard time coping, it must have been just as difficult – if not more – for them. "I'm sorry," she told them.
"It's quite all right," Martha said, taking Lois's hand and leading her into the kitchen. "Come, sit down. We were about to have some tea."
"Let me guess... Oolong?" Lois asked, raising an eyebrow. And for the first time since the morning before, she managed to smile.
~.~.~
Gotham - Day One after Nightfall He had no idea how much time had passed. Minutes? Hours? Days, maybe? There was no way for him to tell. All he knew was that during that time, with a lot of effort and concentration, he'd managed to find a way to block out the noise. Most of it, anyway.
Why or how he was able to hear all these voices, all these sounds - so loudly! - was still very much a mystery. He was pretty sure that this wasn't something normal people experienced. Perhaps he was psychic. Perhaps he was insane. There was no way for him to tell.
There were several other things he didn't know, he had soon realized. And these were a lot more troubling.
When he had opened his eyes and looked around, he hadn't been able to recognize anything about the place. It was a cave of some sort, dark and humid. Light streamed in through a hole in the ceiling that seemed to be directly aligned with where he sat. There was nothing around; just rock. Further away to his right was a very wide waterfall, beyond which he couldn't see. There was a sort of corridor to his left. It made a sharp turn a few feet away. Light came from somewhere down there.
Even stranger was the fact that he didn't have any clothes on, save for an odd, yellow belt with compartments on it that contained several utility objects like a knife and some sort of throwing weapons shaped like bats. Why he sat there, in a hole dug in the ground, completely naked was as illogical as it was inexplicable.
The biggest shock, however, was the sudden realization that he didn't have a clue who he was. For a while he had listened to the voices, hoping they might help him figure it out - if they lived in his mind, then surely they knew? But the bits of dialog he picked up from them seemed to indicate that they weren't simply a figment of his imagination. And not only did they not seem to be talking to him specifically, they probably had no idea he was even listening in the first place.
How was it that he couldn't remember anything about himself, he wondered? Surely that wasn't normal. If nothing else, he should at least be able to tell who he was! He was quite certain that he must have known, at one point.
Perhaps somewhere in this cave lay the answers he sought. He could only hope he'd find them soon enough. All the things he didn't know, all the things he was sure he should know.
He got up from the ground and walked to his left, into the corridor dug inside the rock. And then, suddenly, things went from just being mildly unsettling to being seriously, very bizarre.
To his astonishment, even though the ground was uneven and the rocks beneath his feet were sharp, he felt absolutely no pain at all as he walked. He felt the objects all right, but apparently the nerve endings on the bottom of his feet weren't picking up any pain. Perhaps something had happened to make him insensible? Perhaps the way he'd arrived here had something to do with it? Perhaps it was also the reason why he couldn't remember anything?
He walked on, marveling at the fact that he couldn't feel pain, when it occurred to him that it went well beyond just that. No matter how sharp the rocks he walked on, his feet remained unhurt. He lifted one foot off the ground and, grabbed it in his hand. He turned the sole upwards to examine it. There was nothing - not a shadow of blood or scraped skin. Nothing.
That couldn't possibly be normal, could it?
A strange feeling started bubbling up inside him. Who was he? What was he? Man - or machine?
He kept on walking towards the light at the end of the corridor. What he found there also took him by surprise. There was a room there - dug inside the cave - a large, mostly circular room. Inside it he saw a very large number of computers and all sorts of electronic devices. This was a control room of some sort. For what, he couldn't tell, but judging by the array of panels and screens, he guessed that this was probably a base of operations of some sort.
And then suddenly, on one screen, he saw it. A bat shape. The same shape as the one on the buckle of his belt.
Was all of this equipment his?
He looked at several of the panels, but couldn't figure out how to use them at all. Perhaps it was just one more thing that he couldn't remember. The list was growing longer and longer every second...
Looking around in a circular motion, he noticed a glass display case set against a wall, which contained what he thought looked like a full body armor. It was all black, with a cape hanging at the shoulders and a large bat shape on its chest. The helmet appeared to have ears on - just like a bat's. He walked over to examine it more closely. The armor was made of some sort of material that he couldn't readily identify.
The display case didn't seem to have an opening - he pushed and pulled on the glass, feeling it for some sort of opening, some sort of knob, anything that would enable him to open it, but there just wasn't one. Perhaps this was just a showpiece?
Shrugging, he turned to his left and spotted what appeared to be a pile of clothes - all gray and black - all neatly folded and sitting on a long shelf affixed to the stone wall.
As soon as he placed a hand over the pile, he got a weird and overpowering sense of familiarity. It didn't last long enough for him to figure out why he'd gotten it or what it meant, but there was something about these clothes that had triggered a reaction – a memory. It couldn't be a coincidence that this was the very first object that didn't appear to be alien to him. It had to mean something, he was sure of it.
He picked up what he thought was a shirt, only to find out that it was actually some sort of costume made from an extensible material. It had a big, bright, yellow crest - with a black bat inside it - sown right in the middle of the chest.
He rolled his eyes. One thing was quickly starting to become very clear - who ever he was, he had some sort of bat fetish!
Seeing as the clothing was the very first thing to feel familiar to him - and considering the fact that he'd been walking around in his altogether for a while now - he decided it would probably be a good idea to wear it. Any clothing was better than none, right?
He removed the utility belt and proceeded to pull the costume on. The texture of the material immediately felt comfortable on his skin. He had definitely worn this before. He was certain of it. He slipped on the pair of boots that were sitting on the ground. They were just his size. That also had to mean something, didn't it?
Even the cape felt right to wear, he realized. He was now absolutely convinced he'd dressed like this before. There was no other way to explain why it felt so normal - so right.
The cowl, however... now that didn't feel right at all. But perhaps it wasn't supposed to, either. It was a mask, after all. And masks were meant to hide the wearer's face from the rest of the world, he knew - they weren't necessarily meant to be comfortable and pleasant to wear. Obviously, there was a reason why the costume came with a cowl and, like it or not, he figured he probably should wear it, if he ever found a way out of this place.
He turned to glance at his reflection in the glass display case. The sight of him dressed like this didn't elicit any sort of flashback, as he had hoped it might.
"Who are you?" he asked out loud. He cocked his head to the side and looked at his reflection intensely for a minute. With a chuckle, he added, "Some sort of bat-man, I guess."
~.~.~
End – Chapter 2. 
