I'm finally back with the next installment. It went longer than I thought, so I've split it into three parts instead of two. For those who need a little refresher, here's the
TOC .
Flying Lessons 2/3
by JDG
*-*-*
Clark is sitting on the end of his bed with his head bowed when I land on his back porch. His phone is sitting next to him. He looks dejected and I wonder who he just talked to and what they said. He definitely looks like he could use a friend.
I tap on the glass to get his attention. He looks up and his eyes widen in surprise, but he walks over to open the door for me.
As I come inside, I ask him, "Aren't you wondering how I got onto your back porch?"
Clark shrugs. "Well, considering how you tossed me around earlier today, I'm going to assume that you flew here."
"I didn't *toss* you around." I glare at him, a little insulted by his version of events.
"No," he concedes with half a smile. "You didn't."
I smile back in relief - he was only kidding. A rush of affection for him spills through me. Only Clark dares to tease me like this. He's done it since practically the day we met. It took some time, but I eventually realized that he wasn't mocking me; he was acknowledging me. It's the verbal equivalent of a wink. There's something reassuring about having one person in the world who isn't fooled by my blunt personality.
I hold my hand out to him. "Wanna fly with me?"
Clark doesn't say a word. He just stares at me, his eyes dark and serious. He's not joking; not doing this to tease me. He's genuinely speechless. I start to worry that maybe he thinks I'm joking.
"Come on, Clark, I promise I won't drop you. This is the coolest thing that's ever happened to me, and I want someone to share it with. Fly with me. Please?"
A very long two or three seconds tick by before he reaches out and takes my hand and softly says, "All right."
It isn't until we're outside, standing on his balcony, that I wonder how I'm supposed to do this. Superman has cradled me in his arms when he's flown with me, but it would feel odd to hold Clark like that. I let go of his hand and giggle involuntarily.
"So, um--." I gesture at him and shrug. "I'm not, uh, not sure what the protocol is for this. I mean, should I carry you or hold on to you or --?"
"Having you hold me sounds nice." His eyebrow quirks lecherously upward and it's only the fact that I would hurt him that keeps me from giving him a playful shove.
Besides, he's right. It does sound nice. Really, really nice.
I put my hands on his waist, just like I did earlier today when I picked him up. I take a deep breath and then, just as my feet are starting to lose contact with the floor, my confidence wavers and I immediately return to earth.
I look up at Clark and wonder if he realizes that I'm quietly freaking out. I don't want him to lose faith in me, but I feel like I need to justify why we're still standing here. "If you, uh, get scared, or we go too high, or anything like that - just let me know."
He nods. "All right."
"I won't take it personally, if--."
"Lois--." His hands move to my waist, loosely holding us together. "Just relax. It's OK. I trust you."
I search his eyes for a moment and see that he really does mean it. Clark trusts me. He absolutely trusts me. I'm not sure I'd trust him this much if he showed up at my apartment claiming to have Superman's powers and asked me to go flying with him.
I take a deep breath and release it slowly. Just like my first attempt under Superman's guidance, I mentally picture us both rising higher as I exhale. We lift off of the patio by a few inches and I glance down to check that Clark is with me. He is. There's a flutter in my stomach as I comprehend that *I'm* the one making this happen. We drift higher - almost as high as the roof of his building - and I look at him to judge his reaction.
Clark grins at me. "Keep going."
"Are you sure?" I flex my fingers to test my hold on him. It's strange how little effort it takes to lift him.
"Absolutely." He lets out an exhale that's half-laugh, half-sigh. "Take us higher, please."
We gain altitude, soaring above his rooftop and then higher still. The expression on Clark's face must be what pure joy looks like. Soon we're so high that even the tallest buildings in Metropolis are beneath our feet and I stop rising, just letting us float. Float is really the best word for it - the sensation is that same curious weightlessness as being in deep water. Only we're not getting wet and the city is spread out beneath us like a wonderland of fairy lights.
My eyes trace the dark sweep of the rivers below, following their path to the black expanse of ocean. It's hard to differentiate between the horizon and the ocean, which adds to the illusion that we're suspended in dark water.
"Wow," I whisper. "I've never seen the city like this before. Do you think he does this?"
"Superman?" Clark asks.
"Of course. Do you think he hangs out up here sometimes?"
"Sure.” Clark sounds almost wistful as he tips his head back to study the stars above us. “It's so quiet."
"You're right! You know, there's been this dull roar in my ears - all the traffic, people, machinery. It was giving me a headache."
He tilts his head to look at me instead of the stars. "What do you hear now?"
I listen for a few seconds. The city below seems so distant and muted now. And yet I can clearly hear a steady rhythm and I wonder if it's true that cities have a pulse. Then it dawns on me that what I'm hearing is Clark's heartbeat and not Metropolis. It feels far too intimate, like I'm spying on him somehow, so I leave it out of my answer.
"Just, uh, just kind of a far-away humming noise."
"That's good." Clark's arms tighten around me and he shifts a little closer.
"You'll tell me if you're getting cold, won't you?" I ask him. "Or if you start feeling nervous or--"
"I'm not cold," he says softly. "Please, let's just stay here a little longer."
I want to stay with him like this forever and the realization sets off a small spark of panic inside me. I blurt out the first thing that pops into my mind.
"Are you sure? I mean I did threaten to squish your head earlier today. What's to stop me from dropping you now?"
Clark doesn't tense and his heartbeat remains slow and steady. "Did you bring me up here just to drop me?"
"Of course not," I reassure him, feeling terrible that I suggested it. "I would never let you fall."
Our eyes meet and his pulse quickens. Mine races to match it.
"I would never let you fall either," he whispers.
The breeze around us picks up a little and it blows my hair across my face. Clark tucks a wayward strand behind my ear. His hand stays there, keeping my hair tamed. It's a faintly possessive gesture that makes me wish that Clark would cradle my face between both of his hands and kiss me.
Actually, I've never wanted to kiss anyone more in my life. In spite of the breathtaking view below us, Clark is looking at me like I'm his entire universe. Maybe it's the moonlight or maybe it's his trust in me or maybe it's the way I can hear his heart racing with anticipation, but he's all I can see.
His face tilts closer to mine and my eyes slide shut, anticipating his kiss. His thumb traces over my cheekbone as his lips brush lightly over mine. He does it again, a little slower. Then again, this time catching my lower lip gently between his. His hand goes to the back of my head and he deepens the kiss.
I'm almost afraid to really kiss him back - what if I hurt him? What if we lose altitude because I'm distracted? What if I drop him? And then I hear it - it's not much more than a whisper - but its effect is like cold water and my head jerks back.
"Help! Superman!""Is someone in trouble?" Clark asks.
Thank goodness he hasn't interpreted my distraction as ambivalence about kissing him. "Yes, I think so. And Superman can't--. Oh god, Clark, what do I do?"
"Let's check it out," he suggests.
"Together?"
"Would you rather I just wait here?" he teases.
"Hold on," I tell him, tightening my arms around him. And then I realize that, while I may be able to fly and float, I have no clue how to get there fast. "How do you think he does this? I--"
"Just drop," Clark suggests. "We'll pick up speed as we go."
"Drop?" My whole body goes cold at the realization that I'm messing with powers that don’t belong to me. I'm going to end up hurting Clark - and be too late to save the frantic woman whose cries I can't ignore. "Clark, I can't--."
"Yes, you can. Just drop and let gravity do the rest. Trust that you can stop us. No matter how fast we fall, you're in control. All you have to do is concentrate on where the emergency is and try not to hit any buildings on the way. It's all about reflexes and steering. Just drop."
How can he be so certain? There isn't really time to argue with him about it, so I decide to give it a try. I let go of the floating sensation keeping us aloft and my stomach seems to be left behind as we start to fall. I stop us immediately and tighten my arms around him.
"See - you can stop us at any time. Don't worry about me,” Clark urges. “Just go,"
And then we're in a free fall, descending so fast that I gulp for air against the winds buffeting us. Clark doesn't seem frightened by the fact that we're plummeting so swiftly and his trust does wonders for my confidence. I'm relieved to find that it takes only a subtle shift to maneuver us as we hurtle headlong towards the ground. It's really not that hard to zip out of the way of buildings. If it weren't for the anxious calls for help, I'd probably enjoy this.
As we get closer and closer to the sound of the cries, my other senses kick in. I can smell the acrid tang of fire and hear the shrill blare of the fire trucks' sirens as they approach. There's an old apartment building, seven stories high, with flames and black smoke pouring from most of the windows on the top floor. In one of the few windows not consumed by fire, a frantic woman is shrieking for Superman's help. Scores of people are standing on the sidewalk below, calling reassurances to her or just gawking in horrified awe.
"Land in the alley behind the building," Clark suggests. "Then go in through the back as fast as you can to get to her. If the flames aren't that close, take her out through a back window. Try to bring her somewhere where there aren't a lot of people."
Clark's right. I can't be seen. It would complicate everything if someone were to see me.
As we touch down in the darkened alley, Clark gives my shoulders a squeeze. "Be careful."
I nod and dash away, crashing through a door on the back of the building and marveling at how easy and unpainful that was to do. But how invulnerable am I? If I run into the flames, will it hurt? There's no fire here, so it's too soon to tell. I find the stairwell and run up, making it to the top in an unbelievable two seconds.
On the other side of the door is an inferno. I give myself a little pep talk - I can do this. Look how fast I got upstairs - racing down the hallway to where the fire hasn't reached yet will be easy. I can feel the heat now and I realize that, under normal circumstances, I probably would be spontaneously combusting. I take a deep breath and run forward. The woman's shrieks have now become sobs and I feel a stab of guilt that it took me much longer than Superman to get here.
The far end of the hallway is free of flames and the smoke isn't overwhelming just yet. I push down the door of her apartment and yell, "Hello?"
A middle-aged woman in a blue nightgown with green curlers in her hair turns from the window and stares at me in surprise. She's clutching a small white and gray dog. The poor thing has its head buried beneath his mistress’ arm and is whimpering softly.
"Where is he?" the woman asks me sadly. "I thought Superman would have been here by now." She gives the dog a reassuring pat and croons, "Right, baby? Yes, he will. Superman will save us."
"You need to come with me," I tell her.
"There's no way out - the stairs are on fire!" She gapes at me like I'm insane and turns back to the window. "Oh, thank God," she says in obvious relief. "At least the fire department is here."
"Come on," I say and take a step closer to her. "Let's get out of here."
She ignores me to wave one arm out the window to catch the attention of the firefighters. Her dog watches me warily from beneath her other arm.
What to do? On the face of it, I can understand her skepticism. She's expecting Superman, not me. Still, it's a little depressing to be rejected out of hand.
"If I have to," I warn her, "I'll pick you up and carry you out of here."
This earns a derisive snort from her. She has a good forty pounds on me, but she has no idea who she's up against.
I try again. "Last chance. I'm getting you out of here one way or the other."
She shakes her head and I march forward, grabbing her shoulders to pull her back from the window. The dog snarls and she instinctively puts both arms around him so she won't drop him. I drag her backward, as she kicks and screams in terror. The dog whines and struggles to escape. This is a mess. I have a sudden vision of having to chase them both down while the building collapses around us.
The dog gets free, but I grab the scruff of his neck with one hand before he can bolt away. He wriggles and snaps at me while the woman begins to swear a blue streak. I change my hold on her so that my arm is across her chest and she's braced against my hip. Then I move, flying across the apartment and out the window in a blur.
The women screams like she's being murdered as we take to the air outside. Below us, I hear the crowd gasp as a single organism and then we're gone, over the building to land in the dark alley where I left Clark. The moment I set them down, the woman collapses, sobbing incoherently, and the dog runs to hide behind a nearby dumpster.
"You're safe now," I tell her, a little offended by her ingratitude.
"Go away!" She waves one arm weakly to drive me back. Her teeth are chattering, but I don't think it's because she's cold. "Leave me alone!"
A hand touches my elbow and Clark softly says, "You should get out of here."
"I didn't hurt her!" I tell him defensively. "I swear. I didn't hurt her at all."
"She's just in shock. She'll be fine in a few minutes. Go home."
"What about you?"
"I'll walk. It's only a few blocks to my place. It's better if no one gets a picture of you flying, let alone taking someone along with you."
*-*-*
I'm still feeling dejected when I get home. I saved that woman's life and all she could do was act like I'd tried to kill her. I take a shower to get rid of the smoky smell and then flop onto my bed. The suspense is too much for me and I turn on the TV to see if there's any mention of my pitiful attempt at being a hero.
There's nothing. I should be relieved, but I'm a little disappointed. I don't want anyone to know it was *me*, but it would have been fun to get a mention. Has the world become so inured to a flying man that a woman with the same ability doesn't even raise an eyebrow?
I turn off the TV and stare at my ceiling. Above me I can hear my neighbor's television, he’s watching something with a lot of moaning and heavy breathing while a saxophone trills. I turn on my radio alarm clock, but the sounds are still there, on the periphery of my mind.
How does Superman manage to stay sane, with this much background noise? I didn’t notice it so much until I spent those blissful few minutes above Metropolis with Clark. I throw one arm across my eyes and mutter, "Oh, Superman. It sucks to be you."
And then another sound distracts me - a siren working its way across the city in a hurry. I'd rather face rejection again than listen to my neighbors. I dress quickly, all in black, so that I’ll blend into the shadows.
I follow the sound of the sirens to find that a warehouse has collapsed, trapping a man inside. I sneak in through the dock area, hoping that I can do something to help the man pinned beneath a beam. Several cops and EMTs are crowded around him discussing how to proceed as he groans and pleads with them for help. I can't march into the middle of that group and lift the beam without revealing myself. Should I leave it to the machinery that they’re waiting for? The trapped man's entreaties are becoming weaker. I rise to the far end of the jutting beam. It’s lying across the top of a smashed forklift too. What if I used the forklift as a seesaw? Then I could lift the beam without anyone seeing me.
I push down on the beam. It lifts a tiny bit, but not enough to get the man out. I try again, putting some oomph and pressure into it, and the beam sinks a few more inches. On the other side of the warehouse I hear the rescue workers start exclaiming. They waste no time in sliding the man clear and call out to me, “Thanks, Superman! We’ve got him!”
I release the beam slowly, just in case anyone’s toes are in the way, and then I dash outside and take flight. From high above the warehouse, I squint down at it and see them preparing to transport the injured worker.
Another cry reaches me and I rush in the direction of it. Adrenaline courses through me as I wonder what's happened - and how I can help.
*-*-*
It's a good thing that flying is effortless, because I couldn't have walked home by the end of the night. I'm lying on my bed, too exhausted to sleep, when I hear a knock on the door. I squint in that direction and catch a glimpse of Clark standing there.
For a second or two I think about ignoring him and pulling a pillow over my head to block out the light so I can sleep. He knocks again. I squeeze my eyes shut and sigh heavily. Another knock. I sit up wearily and then stumble for the door. As soon as I have it open, Clark holds up the early edition of the Metropolis Star with a 32 point headline - "Superman's sister? Mystery flier saves woman, dog".
I take the paper and quickly scan through the article. The woman I rescued described me as a scrawny and aggressive brunette. My exhaustion burns away in a rush of indignation.
"Scrawny?" I look up at Clark in disbelief. "Do you think I'm scrawny? Scrawny and aggressive?"
"She was expecting Superman," Clark tries to placate me.
I glare at the paper and it bursts into flames.
"Whoa!" Clark grabs the paper and throws it to the floor, stomping on it with his foot to put the fire out. "Let's consider the source. It's the Star, Lois. You know they always take the low ground."
"What about The Planet and the other dailies? Anything?"
"Nothing yet, but Perry wants us all over the story."
I sigh and head for my couch. My exhaustion seems even worse now. "Clark, what am I going to do? No one can find out that it was me. I'll never have a moment's peace if it's splashed all over the news that I have Superman's powers."
Clark joins me on the couch. "So don't tell anyone."
"But what am I going to do the next time I hear someone calling for help? I can't do this, Clark. I can't be him."
"No one is asking you to do that." Clark's hand pats the middle of my back.
"I know." I rub my eyes, trying to ease their scratchiness. "But I couldn't just lie there in bed last night and listen to everyone calling for help and do nothing."
Clark's hand leaves my back and he sounds a little worried as he asks, "You went out again last night?"
I gulp in a breath of air and nod as the memory floods back. "It was bad.” My voice becomes a squeaky whisper when I try to explain. "There was this man in a car accident and I didn't get there in time."
"You can't save everyone." Clark takes my hand in his and squeezes it gently. "No matter how fast you are, sometimes you still won’t be able to help them."
I let out a choked laugh. "Would you believe I've told Superman that before? It just feels so different on this side of the cape."
Clark’s fingers stroke over mine to soothe me. And it works. I relax against him and my head comes to rest against his shoulder. For the first time since last night, I can feel the tension leaving me. My eyelids slide shut and I exhale deeply. I’ve fallen asleep on Clark’s shoulder before and I wonder if he’d let me do it again now.
“What should I do, Clark?” I whisper.
"Take a long, hot shower; that might help. And then go back to bed for a while. You don’t have to go to the newsroom this morning, I told Perry that we’d be out beating the sidewalks to try and track down the mystery woman."
"You lied for me?" The words feel thick and far away, like they’re coming from someone else.
He shrugs and the motion jiggles my head where it rests against him. "What are partners for?"
“Mmmm, thanks.” If I wasn’t dead-tired right now, I’d probably try kissing him again. That was a nice kiss last night. I sigh, drawn into a dreamy memory of that kiss and the feeling of floating in Clark’s arms. Only this time, instead of a call for help, our kiss ends with Clark promising to call me later.
*-*-*
I wake up to the ringing of a phone. I reach out and pull the receiver close to my ear.
“’Lo?” I mutter thickly.
“Lois? I’m at STAR Labs—.”
“Clark?” I sit up and stare in disbelief at my alarm clock. It’s almost two in the afternoon – I’ve been asleep for hours. I’m in my bedroom, even though the last thing I remember is sitting on the couch, snuggled against Clark’s shoulder.
“Yes,” he answers. “Dr. Klein thinks he has that camera fixed and he asked me to call you.”
“Is Superman there too?” I ask.
“Uh, yeah, he’s here.”
“OK, tell them I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Hey, Lois?” I can practically hear his smile through the phone. “You might want to drive here instead of flying in broad daylight.”
“Oh, yeah.” I glance around the room and see that he pulled my blinds closed before he left. And there’s a blanket over my legs. I wish I had been awake enough to remember Clark tucking me in. “OK, uh, tell them I’ll be there in half an hour.”
*-*-*
When I arrive at STAR Labs, my name is on the list and I’m immediately allowed access. I'm given a visitor’s badge and an intern to escort me. As we ride down in the elevator, I reflect on how much I've learned about Superman since I stood here with him yesterday. For one, if he has a real life, I hope it's with people who know his secret and can support him like Clark did for me this morning. After only one day in Superman’s boots, I'm exhausted both emotionally and physically.
Superman is waiting in the hallway when the elevator doors open; obviously someone called to say I was here now. The intern gives Superman a wave and stays in the elevator. I ask Superman about Clark as we walk down the hall together.
“He, uh, had to leave,” Superman says.
A little ripple of disappointment goes through me and I just barely manage to choke out a glum “oh” in reply.
Superman stops in front of a door and holds it open for me. I step inside and realize that this is the same break room I saw through the wall yesterday.
“We’re going to do the transfer here?” I ask, more than a little bewildered.
“No, they’re still fine-tuning the camera. Dr. Klein thought you’d be more comfortable waiting in here.”
The TV mounted on the wall is on one of the cable news channels. They’re airing a story about the warehouse collapse from last night. I sit down on the couch just as the newscaster announces that Gerald Brookstone, age fifty-three, died on the way to the hospital.
“He died?” I whisper in disbelief. “I didn’t help at all! Maybe I even made things worse. Maybe I should have taken him to the hospital myself or—.”
“Lois?” Superman sits down next to me and takes my hand in his. It’s so reminiscent of Clark this morning that it just makes me miss him even more. “You did the best you could. You can’t save everyone – no one can. He was in an ambulance when he died, with qualified medical personnel and even they couldn’t save him. It’s not your fault.”
I shake my head. He wasn’t there, so he can’t really know--. Except he does. If anyone would know, it would have to be Superman.
“Does this happen a lot?” I ask him, my voice hoarse with unshed tears. “Do you find out later that you only delayed the inevitable?”
Superman’s dark eyes search mine, as if he’s trying to determine how much of the awful truth he should reveal. “You can’t play God with people’s lives, Lois. All you can do is try to help, but in the end, it’s not up to you. No matter how fast you can fly, or how strong you are, you can't save everyone.” He gives me a gentle smile. “You told me that once, remember?”
“I don’t want to be you anymore.” I look at our joined hands and I’m reminded again of Clark on my sofa this morning. “I want my life back. How do you do it? How do you get up each morning – assuming you even slept the night before – and go out there and be *you*? Don’t you get tired?”
“Sometimes,” Superman admits softly.
I look at him again and I can see that he does look tired. And sad – there’s definitely sadness in his eyes. It triggers a rush of compassion for him inside me. Who does Superman go home to? Does he even have a home? What would I have done without Clark last night and, most especially, this morning?
“Please tell me that you have someone who understands all this.” I squeeze his hand gently. "Please tell me that sometimes you get to have a real life.”
"Sometimes." Superman ducks his head and I suddenly feel like I'm prying - I can understand now why he'd want to keep that side of him private. "It's not an easy balance, Lois."
"Last night I went flying above Metropolis. Do you ever do that?"
"I’ve never done that with a beautiful woman in my arms.” Does he have any idea how flustered I get when he smiles at me like this? Is he teasing me? Flirting with me?
"You never asked me," I whisper.
"My mistake." His smile fades and I hear his heart rate increase. "Lois, I, uh, I need to tell you--."
The door opens and Dr. Klein waves at us. “I think we’re ready now.”
I glance at Superman in time to see his eyes close in frustration. “What did you want to say?”
Superman shakes his head and stands up. “It'll have to wait.”
*-*-*
Dr. Klein leads us to a long and narrow room with a glass wall at one end. The camera that Superman found at the park is mounted on a tripod in front of the glass wall. Behind the glass stands a man in a lab coat who is muttering to himself as he double checks the list on the clipboard he’s holding. Dr. Klein leads us to the far end, away from the glass and has us rehearse for him again how we were standing when the beam hit us. Then he positions us so that my back is to the camera and Superman is standing in front of me.
Dr. Klein steps back for a few seconds. He takes hold of my shoulders and moves me an inch to the right. Then he clears his throat and tells us he’s going to the booth.
I'm nervous - terrified actually. What if it hurts? What if the powers leave me, but don't return to him? What if it doesn't work? What if I'm stuck being "super" for the rest of my life? Is this how he feels? I put Superman on a pedestal and now I'm realizing just how unfair my expectations were. I've misjudged him. The familiar red and yellow of his 'S' blur in front of me as I comprehend that his suit really is just a costume - a disguise. It's a way to help people without having to worry that the press - people like *me* - would be pounding down his door. To say nothing of the weirdoes like Trask and Arianna Carlin and the Vale brothers.
"Lois, you don’t have to do this," Superman says quietly, apparently mistaking my reticence for sorrow at losing his powers.
I give him a watery smile, wishing I could explain my feelings. "The flying was fun, but I don't want to be you anymore."
I don't realize how much I'm shaking until Superman gently takes hold of my shoulders. "You don't have to help people like you did last night."
"Neither do you. Have to help people, I mean. But you do. I've always respected you, but now I really know why. It's not just the powers; it's what you do with them that's so amazing."
"You are just as amazing," he tells me earnestly.
"No, I'm not. I used your powers to tease Clark. I told him I was going to drop him."
Superman grins at me, his eyes dancing with amusement. "We both know that you would never drop him."
"No, of course not. But you wouldn't tease someone like that."
"Maybe I've never had anyone I knew well enough to tease that way." His hands slide down my arms as he lets go of my shoulders.
I shake my head, feeling even more miserable that he's trying to make me feel better.
There's a crackle of static from the two-way speaker overhead. "Counting down, in ten, nine--"
My knees suddenly buckle and Superman catches my arms, holding me up.
"Thanks," I choke out.
"I'd never let you fall." He gives me a tender smile as the words echo in my mind.
Never let you fall. Never let you fall. Clark and I both said those words to each other last night. Hearing them from Superman now feels like I've somehow come full circle and yet--
Never let you fall.I stare at his mouth and the man I kissed last night coalesces into the same one standing in front of me now. No, I tell myself firmly. That’s insane. There’s no way--
Never let you fall.All those lame excuses. All those times Clark disappeared for the flimsiest reason--
Never let you fall."Clark?" I whisper, scarcely believing it.
His eyes widen.
Dr. Klein continues his countdown, "--four, three--"
There's a loud screeching noise and I look up, trying to locate the source of the sound. It's somewhere outside, above this basement level room. There are panicked screams and cries ringing in my ears and then something hot slams into my back.
I sway forward, reaching out for balance. My fingers slip over the slickness of his suit as my entire body shakes and my knees give out beneath me. True to his word, he doesn't let me fall. That same pink haze fills my vision as the screams fade. My mind spins, trying to comprehend everything that just happened.
Superman's head jerks up as he now hears the commotion above us. Then he looks at me, his expression torn between relief and anxiety. I understand just how invasive and disruptive super-hearing can be, so I push away from him, righting myself on wobbly legs.
"Lois--."
I wave my hand to express how urgent I know those cries are. "Go!"
He's gone in an instant.
*-*-*
End 2/3
