Sorry this part took so long, but between vidding and wrestling with my brain (rather quite literally, actually) to get a certain scene completed, this took a bit longer than I had originally intended...
Some things are explained yay! Some other things are not yay again!
As always, thanks to the Super Beta Duo, LaraMoon and Saskia!
***
Part Six
Henderson’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he read over the file. “This isn’t possible,” he mumbled quietly to himself.
“I checked over the results myself,” Moira replied, sounding just as bewildered as he felt over what she had found.
“But according to this, Lorna Travis died in 1994,” he objected as he shuffled through the woman’s medical file. “She doesn’t even look like Lane. About all she has going for her is the height and weight.”
The mortician sighed. She seemed to be contemplating a different folder that was on her desk.
“What is it?” he queried wearily. This case was going to give him a serious migraine.
She hesitated for a moment, then, “Well, there was another match. But it obviously belonged to a falsified identity.” She picked up the folder and tapped the spine of it against her palm. “And the person in it does match the description of Lois Lane.”
His interest piqued, he took the folder from her and opened it. His eyes grew wide at the image of the woman in the black and white mug shot. If it hadn't been for the calculating gleam in the woman’s eyes, he would have believed that it could have been the reporter. However, he recognized her almost instantly.
In a rush of motion, he took out Travis' death certificate. The signature for the doctor who gave the time of death was a Dr. Heller.
The doctor for the Lois Lane impersonator, a plastic surgeon who had been killed some years ago in a case that he remembered well, was Dr. Heller.
“Thanks, Moira. I owe you one,” Henderson said as he headed for the door.
“Wait, where are you going?” she asked at his abrupt departure.
“I need to make some calls to a prison,” he replied before exiting the room.
On the way out, he kicked himself for not making the connection sooner.
-
Though covered in a slight layer of dust, the kitchen looked well taken care of. Now that she thought of it, the entire house seemed to be well kept. She hoped that this wasn’t proof that she had turned into a domesticated housewife.
Earlier, Clark had decided to go out and do some grocery shopping. Perry and Jimmy had sent her home with some minor foodstuffs to get her through the first few days, but there had been nothing that could be turned into an actual meal.
“I hope you don’t expect me to make anything,” she said as Clark rinsed out some pots and pans. “I’m not really that talented in that area.”
He chuckled quietly as he removed the wrapper from a roast and placed it in a pan. “That’s all right; I’m the one who usually does the cooking, anyway.”
“No wonder I married you,” she muttered to herself as she stole a carrot from the pile that he had previously chopped. She watched him as she chewed on the vegetable, unable to help but admire the way he seemed to feel at home moving around the kitchen. The way he had chopped vegetables so effortlessly, then seasoned the roast with sure shakes of the spices, had almost seemed like a dance to her.
Quickly, she shook her head to clear out those thoughts.
“I’m also a good housekeeper,” he said with a wink as he mindlessly sucked some spice off the end of his thumb.
Lois found herself envying the thumb for a brief moment, and then blushed as she looked away. How was it that she had a momentary flash of desire for this guy that she saw more as an annoying kid brother rather than a husband? “Anything I can do to help?” she asked, trying to take her mind off that.
“Um… grab that for me, would you?” he asked absently.
Lois mentally flailed. “Grab what?” she demanded.
“The meat tenderizer,” he replied, oblivious to her shock. “It’s over in the sink.”
Cautiously she crept over to the sink, and let out a breath of relief when she saw that there was indeed a meat tenderizer resting in the strainer. Shaking her head once more, she brought it over to him.
“Thanks,” he said with a broad smile.
Oh boy, she thought as the combination of his smile and his rolled-up sleeves did crazy things to her brain. That combination could be a dangerous weapon if used wrong.
Fortunately for her mental well-being, the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it!” she declared, making a mad dash out of the kitchen and for the front door. Opening it, she saw Jimmy standing in the front entryway, holding a cardboard box.
“Hey, Lois! Chief wanted me to drop off a couple of Clark’s things since he’s back in town and all,” the young photographer said with a cheerful grin.
It was contagious, and Lois found herself smiling in return as she moved to the side to let him in. “He’s in the kitchen,” she said, following him as they made their way back to the room.
“Hey, CK!” Jimmy exclaimed, obviously happy to see the older reporter.
‘CK?’ she mouthed to Clark as he was pulled into a bear hug. He just shrugged affectionately.
“Perry sent me by,” Jimmy said as he pulled away. “There were a couple of your files that he thought might be useful.”
Lois handed the box over to Clark, having taken it from the young reporter as he went to hug his friend. His fingers brushed against her, and she gasped at the electric charge that surged through her. Her eyes wide, they flew up to Clark's, and she could tell that he had felt it, as well.
They stood like that for a long moment before Jimmy’s voice brought them back. She shook herself free of the annoying spell, giving Clark a brief smile before she turned away from him, trying to ignore the unfamiliar flood of emotions. Were they her own, from before? Or were they simply a projection of what she believed that she should be feeling? Either way, she wasn’t too sure she was keen on them.
“So anyway,” Jimmy said, finally noticing that his friends’ attentions seemed to be elsewhere. “I should probably start heading home. I have a date tonight with this really hot girl in advertising.”
“Congratulations, Jimmy,” Clark said, sounding genuinely pleased at his friend’s good luck. “Is she anyone I know?”
Jimmy shook his head. “She’s new, and tall, and has this gorgeous brown hair, and she has the cutest accent,” he sighed almost dreamily. “I think she’s from the Netherlands.”
As the young reporter left on a cloud of pre-date euphoria, Lois shook her head. “It’s nice to see that some things don’t change. Well, too much.”
Clark chuckled as he set the box on the counter, sifting through the assortment of personal paraphernalia and notes. Pretty soon he set the box aside and went back to preparing dinner. Lois, ever curious, peeked in the box and noticed the picture frame. Pulling it out, she saw a picture of her and Clark, apparently at some party. She was talking to someone off camera, and he was paying little attention to the conversation. Apparently, he only had eyes for her.
-
Henderson poured through both files on his cluttered desk, down at the precinct. The jigsaw puzzle was slowly falling into place, and he felt a rush of adrenaline that came from putting together the pieces. This was what he lived for, the rush of solving a crime, and it was right there, just waiting to be unraveled.
Dr. Heller had been the doctor to sign off on Travis’ death certificate, but Henderson was positive that if he had access to the right files, he would find that the doctor had been nowhere near the woman when she supposedly died. And he would bet his paycheck that if he were to unearth the grave of Miss Travis, he would probably find a bag of rocks or yet another body that was not where it belonged.
There were several ends that he could not tie together at this moment, given the late hour and how most people he usually worked with were asleep or with their families. And he knew that the work would probably go a lot faster if he enlisted the help of a certain team of reporters.
His watch beeped, signaling that it was midnight.
Still on the adrenaline high, but knowing that there wasn’t anything more that he could do, he locked up the files in his desk and made a note to himself to call the Lane-Kent household in the morning.
-
High above the city, he sat, waiting. There was something wrong with his city, he could feel it in his bones. There was a murderer on the loose, someone who seemed intent on taking the law into his own hands. He would have been there sooner, but there had been a fire in California he had helped stop the other night and a mudslide in India just before he had seen Lois…
And it was Lois. He had tried to convince himself that it hadn’t been, that it was impossible, but she was the same woman that he had known. The same scent, the same taste, the same feel. There was no way that she could have been a duplicate. And as much as his heart soared at the realization that she was alive after all, there was still the question of who the woman he had killed had really been.
There was still blood on his hands, and until he could figure it all out, he could not go home.
Absently, he twisted the gold band on his finger as he waited, only half paying attention to the city below as he focused more on his life. He knew from waking up in the house on Hyperion Avenue that Clark was back in Metropolis. And, if the way his hearing picked up on the familiar beat of Lois’ heart, she was with him there.
He wished that he could do something for her, to protect her the way he hadn’t been able to before, but he didn’t trust himself around her. He didn’t even trust Clark around her. He would have to do something to get Clark away from there, but then he didn’t want to leave her alone. Whatever was out there, whatever it was that was taking the law into its own hands and twisting things to its own sense of justice, could very well go after her as well.
In the distance, he heard a scream. Then he saw something streak across the sky, something that would have been almost invisible to the human eye. Immediately, he took off, following the sound of the attack.
There was a sickening crunch just before he got there.
Swooping into an alley, he saw the broken body of the would-be mugger. To his horror, the man was still alive, and worse, was still conscious.
“No please, don’t hurt me again,” the man managed to say in a panic before stilling, his eyes open in a glassy stare of fear.
Sickened and confused, he bent down and closed the man’s eyes.
The sound of a siren could be heard in a distance, and he took to the air again. From the sky, he tried to find the streak again, although he knew that it was too late. With a feeling of defeat, he turned to head back to the house, knowing that it would be time for Clark to wake up soon.
The window was still open when he flew into his room. However, he had been too focused on his thoughts to realize that the room was not empty.
“You!” Lois' angry voice made him jump, and all he could do was stare as she came towards him, pausing only briefly to remove a sneaker from her foot. “You’re the crazy guy from the alley, aren’t you?”
He barely had time to think as the shoe sailed through the air, perfectly aimed, and bounced off his head. He tried to open his mouth to speak, but no words came out as she stalked closer to him. Involuntarily, his feet moved backwards, and he found himself pinned against the wall.
“And where the hell is Clark? Have you done something to him?” she came to a stop just inches away from him, and even though she was a good half a head shorter than he was, she seemed to tower up at him. She slapped her hand against the blue ‘S’ shield on his chest. “I assume you’re Superman, unless you’re some copycat wannabe. So where have you been, huh? Why the suit change? And why are you in Clark’s room?”
“I-” he started, but was unable to finish his sentence. She was like a hurricane, swift and deadly, and he was totally unprepared for this attack.
Then, without warning, the defiant gleam in her eyes broke away as her face seemed to crumple. “And where the hell were you?” she hissed at him. She beat her fist against his chest hard, then shook out the pain. He knew that it must have been like pounding against a brick wall, but that didn’t stop her and she struck him again. “If you’re such a great friend, if you’re so very protective of me, where the hell were you when I needed you the most?”
He grabbed her wrists, afraid that she might break something. Her words broke something in him, tearing through his gut as surely as a douse of Kryptonite. “I thought you were dead.”
“Well, newsflash, buddy. I wasn’t!” The tears in her eyes made him want to rip out his own heart to stop it from breaking. “Do you have any idea what I went through?”
“No,” he choked out, wishing she would let him leave.
“Neither do I,” she hissed. “They took years away from me. I don’t remember you, I barely remember Clark. Do you have any idea what it’s like to wake up one day and realize that a big part of your life is gone?”
Yes, he wanted to say. I lost you. But he kept his mouth shut, knowing that her memories of him, memories of him being Clark, were gone. “I wish I knew a way I could help you,” he said instead.
“You could,” she insisted as she pried her hands from his grip. He let her go immediately. “You could stop whatever mope-fest you’re on. You can help people, you can help me. That’s what you’re all about, right?”
“I can’t do that,” he said. “I can’t be him. Not anymore.”
“Why not?”
Because I woke up with my hands around your throat. I woke up and you were dead. It wasn’t you, but it could have been. “Because I can’t!” he said instead.
“Why?” she demanded again, forcefully.
“I killed you!” he declared loudly, unable to keep the secret any longer. “I killed one of the only people on this earth that I love! Damn it, you were my wife and I murdered you! And even though it wasn’t you, how do I come back from that?”
It wasn’t until her eyes widened, and he saw things fall into place in her eyes, that he realized his slip. “Clark?”
The room seemed to close in around him. He needed space, he needed to get away. “I can’t be him anymore, either.” With that, he moved away from the wall, away from her, and headed for the window. He was well clear of the house when he heard her shouting behind him, demanding that he get back there.
-
Clark had been dreaming. Lois had been there, but it hadn’t been a pleasant dream of reunions or happier times. All he knew was that he had made her cry, and that he had to escape.
Slowly, he woke up, wondering why it was suddenly very cold. Sitting up in his bed, he blinked away the harsh light, but it wouldn’t go away. His throat was raw and his eyes burned, and when he brought up his hands to his face he could feel icy trails coating his face. Had he been crying?
Pushing aside his confusion he looked around, and he was shocked to find that he was not in his bed. Instead, he was in a mound of snow.
Suddenly awake, he bolted up from the ground. All around him, as far as his eyes could see, was nothing but ice and snow.
Panic filled him as he realized that, somehow, he had gotten to Antarctica.
-end Part Six
