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From Part 2:A chill ran through Lois as she took the paper with trembling hands. She opened it up. It was her subscription copy of the Daily Planet. Like many other major papers, such as the New York Times and her own L.A. Times, copies could be purchased in most major cities around the world, with a varying degree of delay. She received the Planet on a one day delay. She didn't subscribe in order to get the latest news, but just to keep track of what her friends and her city were up to.
She was instantly struck by the huge, bold headline. 'Terrorist Bomb Kills Planet Reporter, Injures Three Others'. Her heart began to thud painfully in her chest. The byline was by Perry White. The unusualness of that made Lois afraid, but she also experienced a small degree of relief to know that Perry hadn't been hurt. Her eyes slipped past the copy and focused on a picture printed prominently in the middle of that page. Tears began to form in her eyes. It was a picture of Clark.
Shaking her head in denial, and through a veil of tears, she forced herself to read the article. More tears flowed as the details of the bomb going off in the Planet's newsroom were read. Jimmy had been hurt but not too badly, but Clark had been in the room when the bomb had gone off. They hadn't even been able to find his body. The Metropolis Bomb Squad had speculated that if he'd been right next to the bomb when it had gone off, the extreme heat could have been enough to literally vaporize his body. There was no doubt in anyone's mind. Clark Kent was dead.
************
Now read on...Clark paced back and forth in the kitchen of his parents’ home. For about the twentieth time, he sighed and raked his hands through his dark, wavy hair. For about the twentieth time, his mother looked despairingly at his father.
And, for about the twentieth time, Clark took a deep breath and resolved that he *would* find a solution.
“So, do you want to talk about it yet?” Martha Kent asked sympathetically.
Clark shook his head. “Thanks, Mom, but I think I need to figure some things out on my own first. Maybe later...” He paused, then said, “You know, maybe I should go flying for a while. That might help.”
“You do that, son,” Jonathan said, and leaned over to lay his hand on Clark’s shoulder.
Grateful for the outward demonstration of his parents’ love, Clark smiled. “Thanks, you guys. I’ll be back later.”
**********
“But, Ms Lane, you’re not well enough to leave yet.”
“I don’t care.” Lois, heedless of what a sight she must be, her nose splinted and with gaps in her mouth, quite apart from the other bandages all over her body, stared down the junior doctor who had clearly been sent to talk some sense into her. “Like I told the nurse, I’m leaving. Now, are you going to give me my release papers, or do I just walk out of here?”
“If you can walk,” the doctor muttered, and Lois threw him a baleful glare.
“I don’t care if I have to crawl. I’m not staying here one minute longer.”
“What’s the problem, Ms Lane?” the doctor persisted. “Has someone behaved inappropriately? Said something you had a problem with?”
Lois waved a bandaged arm impatiently. “No, of course not,” she snapped. “Why can’t you just understand that I feel fine and I want to leave?”
“Because you’re *not* fine,” the doctor retorted. “You’re not capable of looking after yourself yet. You’re still recovering from the effects of anaesthesia, not to mention the trauma of the attack and the severity of your injuries. You need to rest, and you need to be under observation.”
“I’ll be staying with my sister,” Lois lied. “She can look after me. And if she thinks there’s a problem, she can call you. Okay?”
He sighed. “No, it’s not okay. But since you’re determined, I’ll get your release papers.”
Heaving a sigh of relief once he’d gone, Lois collapsed onto her bed. He’d been right, of course; she wasn’t in any fit state to leave just yet. Despite the painkillers she’d been given, her leg ached even after only standing on it for the past ten minutes. She couldn’t bear to imagine how it would feel once she actually started walking around.
But that was what she was determined to do. There were far more important things to do than lie around in a hospital bed when her best friend in the whole world had been killed.
She was going to Metropolis. It might be too late to find Clark, to talk to him, to ask him to forgive her for leaving and to be her friend once more, but she owed it to him to be there for him now, to say her last goodbyes.
And to regret, for ever, the loss of what could have been.
**********
For once, even the space between the earth and the sky didn’t seem to hold any answers for Clark. He ploughed through the cotton-wool clouds, today barely noticing their existence, oblivious to the touch of the wind rushing past him and the rejuvenating heat of the sun on his body.
He was faced with a seemingly intractable problem, and he was no near to a solution now than he was when he’d first encountered it. He’d thought then that there was no way out; he’d agonised over and over, trying to find a solution, but nothing had sprung to mind. And nothing had changed since.
All he knew was that he wanted something he couldn’t have. Something which had been torn away from him against his will.
Everything that was important in his life was gone, and he was left with only a hollow shell which passed for a life - which was a pale imitation of what he’d had before.
Ever since Lois had walked out of his life, moved to Los Angeles so that she could no longer be used as bait for Superman, Clark’s life had been empty.
He missed her. Every second of every day, she inhabited his thoughts. He was reminded of her all the time, especially at work but also when he was Superman, since that, of course, was why she’d left.
He would come into the newsroom in the morning and, even after more than six weeks, he would automatically seek her out. He frequently found himself filling two mugs whenever he went to get coffee, adding artificial sweetener and low-fat milk to one of them. When he raided the morning doughnut box, he’d grab two, one of them chocolate. And if he went to the deli for a sandwich, he had to stop himself ordering Lois’s favourite along with his own.
He missed her.
There was a void in his life that nothing could fill. Even his job, which he’d loved, now seemed routine, devoid of excitement. He no longer looked forward with eager anticipation to going to work in the morning.
Lois wasn’t there any more.
Whenever he was Superman, he thought of her. If he saved someone, he remembered every single time he’d saved Lois from death or disaster. If he prevented a crime, he remembered all the exclusives he’d given Lois about his activities - or which he’d submitted as Clark, only to face Lois’s irritation that her partner had beaten her to a Superman story.
Lois had walked out of his life six weeks ago, telling him that she couldn’t risk Superman’s ethics for her own selfish pleasure. It had probably been the most unselfish thing she’d ever done, though that hadn’t made Clark feel any better about it.
Of course, he’d known that she was right - or, at least, she’d been right insofar as she believed that Superman was a real person. Her presence in Metropolis, given that she was widely believed to be Superman’s girlfriend and the superhero himself had appeared to confirm it by rushing to her rescue every time she’d been in danger, was a major complication. He worried about her safety all the time, and on those occasions when she was threatened he faced his worst fears over and over.
That Lois would be hurt.
That Lois would be killed.
That he would be just too late to save her.
That he would be forced to do something unspeakable in order to save her.
That Lois would end up dead.
Gone.
That he would no longer have the brilliance of her presence in his life; no longer have the sheer pleasure of talking to her, sparring with her, every day. That she would no longer be there to give Superman the strength he needed to carry on.
And that he would carry the guilt of his failure to protect her for the rest of his life.
A life without Lois.
And yet, wasn’t that what he had now?
He hadn’t wanted her to go. Had tried pleading with her, as both Clark and Superman. Nothing had worked. Well, ultimately nothing he’d been prepared to try.
Because, in the end, he’d let her go. He hadn’t resorted to the one weapon which he’d had at his disposal, the thing he’d known could have persuaded her to stay.
He could have told her that he - Clark - was Superman. And that, if she loved Superman, she could have a relationship with him as he really was: as Clark. That way, the world would have seen that Lois Lane was dating Clark Kent, not Superman, and Superman could have distanced himself from the woman people believed to be his girlfriend. Everything would have been fine.
He’d been going to suggest it, even while she was suggesting that he - Clark - could come to LA with her. Because he couldn’t leave Metropolis, not while Superman made it his home - and in any case, both Clark and Superman couldn’t simply relocate to LA - he’d had to say no. But then she’d made it very clear that he still meant no more to her than a brother.
She loved Superman; Clark was just the friend who was always there in the background; the man who got whatever of Lois was left after she gave her heart and soul to the one-dimensional cartoon in the cape.
She’d loved Superman so much that she’d given up everything that was precious to her for him. She’d quit the job she’d loved so much. She’d left behind all her friends, her apartment, everything familiar. She’d even left behind her best friend. All for Superman, a man who didn’t even exist in three-dimensional reality.
It hurt. It had hurt the day he’d said goodbye to Lois, and it still hurt now.
So how could he have told her the truth? When she’d made it so very clear where Clark came in comparison to Superman? Oh, sure, she’d asked Clark to go with her, but when he’d had to say no she hadn’t seemed to hesitate at all about her decision to leave. She may well have been making a sacrifice for Superman’s sake, but in doing so she’d stabbed Clark through the heart.
Yet he missed her so much.
The past six weeks had been unbearable. So many times, he’d been on the point of picking up the phone, or even flying out to LA, to talk to Lois. To tell her that she could come back, that he had a solution. But every time his hand had hovered over the phone, he’d had a flashback to that moment in her apartment.
<<<"Not only would I have my sister close, but I'd have my best friend there too. A man who is more like a brother to me than any blood relation could ever be.">>>
She didn’t want Clark. Not the way he wanted her. And, much as it hurt to be without Lois, he knew that it would hurt so much more to have her and know that it was only Superman she wanted.
And so he’d never called her. And no matter the pain her absence caused him, he’d never felt that he’d made the wrong decision.
Until the Planet had been bombed... and he’d realised just how easily a life could be snuffed out prematurely. If he’d been human - or if that had been Lois, not him, trapped in that corner of the newsroom - then there would never have been another chance for the two of them.
But was that enough of a reason to overlook her preference for Superman?
********
“Lois, you’re not really going to get on that plane, are you?” Lucy asked anxiously.
Lois leaned on her crutch, waving her ticket in her sister’s face. “You think I’m just carrying this around for the heck of it?”
“But, Lois, you’re not in a fit state to spend almost five hours cooped up in a cramped seat in coach! You can barely walk!”
“I’m fine,” Lois insisted, now just wishing that Lucy would leave. Her sister had been kindness itself; the scatty, disorganised kid sister she’d grown up with had disappeared, to be replaced by a concerned mother hen. Nonetheless, it wasn’t Lucy Lois wanted right now. The problem was that the only person she wanted was never going to be there for her ever again.
She just wanted to get on that plane and on her way to Metropolis. And if being in an airline seat for five hours was agonising, then she welcomed the pain. It was easier to bear than the pain of knowing that her best friend had been murdered.
That she would never see him again.
That she deserved to feel this miserable; after all, she was the one who’d left Metropolis and everything she and Clark had had together. She’d walked away from the best thing that had ever happened to her. And she hadn’t even realised what she’d been leaving behind.
There had to have been another way. She’d told herself that many times since, but she’d never been able to come up with a solution. Certainly nothing that dealt adequately with the Superman problem.
Superman.
Lois glowered angrily.
Her flight was called then, for which she was grateful. Saying her goodbyes to Lucy, she slung her backpack over her shoulder and limped her way to the boarding gate, relieved to be alone with her thoughts.
Superman. The so-called hero who had let her down.
The reason she’d left Metropolis; the man she’d been in love with, and who had claimed to love her in return.
The man who was supposedly also a friend of Clark’s.
The man - the *hero* - who hadn’t been there to save Clark when he’d needed him.
When *she’d* needed him to save her best friend.
How could she love a man who’d let the most precious person in the world *die*?
Anger and bitterness welled up inside her as the plane took off, the roar of its engines barely audible to her against the roaring of rage inside her. Superman had betrayed her.
She’d given up everything she loved for him. She’d left the city she knew, given up the job she’d struggled so hard for and had enjoyed so much, and left behind everyone in her life who meant anything to her. Perry, her substitute father. Jimmy - annoying some of the time, true, but a good friend nonetheless.
And Clark. The best friend she’d ever had. The one person who’d always seemed to understand her moods, her insecurities, and who’d always responded in a quietly supportive manner which had led her to lean on him more and more, even as she barely realised what she’d been doing. Clark, who’d become essential to her sanity.
Clark, whom she’d left behind - all for Superman.
The least Superman could have done, in return for her sacrifice, was keep Clark safe!
Lois wiped away a tear and closed her eyes, leaning back against the headrest. It was going to be a long, painful journey.
But the pilgrimage was necessary. She had to say her goodbyes to Clark and, if possible, make peace with herself. And then... she didn’t know. Get on with her life, people would tell her - but right now she didn’t feel as if she had much of a life left to get on with.
If Clark was dead, what was there left to live for?
*********
“So, did you decide anything?”
Clark shook his head, accepting his parents’ sympathetic concern. “Not yet. I need to see her... but after that, I just don’t know.” He sighed. “Part of the problem is that we’ve barely spoken since she moved out to LA. So I don’t even know if she misses me...”
“Clark, honey, of course Lois misses you!”
He gave his mother a wry smile. “I’d like to think so. But, Mom, you can’t possibly know for sure.”
“I know, Clark. I know Lois! That girl is very fond of you. Even if she thinks she isn’t. I’ve seen the way she watches you sometimes - and you know it’s always you she comes running to when she has a problem. You’re the one she looks to first. And you know she cares about you.”
“Yeah. As a friend. Like a brother. Whereas she loves Superman,” he muttered glumly.
“But, honey, you are Superman,” Martha pointed out gently.
“I’m not only Superman!” Clark objected, bile rising in his throat at the notion. This was exactly what he’d been afraid of: that his alter ego would take over, pushing Clark Kent out of the way and into the shadows. That was certainly the way Lois approached his two identities, and she didn’t even know that Superman was in reality her best friend. To think that his mother was also confusing the two...
“Of course not, honey, but you have to realise that you’re not only Clark Kent either.” His mother gave him an inscrutable smile.
“That’s the problem!” Clark said heavily.
“No, it's not.” Martha came closer, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Your problem is that you believe that you only became Superman when you put on the Suit, Clark. You’re forgetting that you always were Super.”
He shook his head, uncomprehending. “I know I was, but what does that have to do with Lois only wanting me in the Suit?”
“It’s simple, Clark. You don’t want her to love only the Superman side of you, right?”
“No, I don’t!”
“But do you want her to love only the Clark side of you? And not Superman? You can’t have it both ways, honey. Whichever of you she takes, she has to take the other side too. She doesn’t have a choice in the matter.”
Yeah; if Lois accepted him as Clark, she’d be getting her dearest wish, Clark knew. Her Superhero fantasy along with her brother-like best friend. And he’d always wonder which of them meant more to her. Even if she claimed to love them both, he’d be eaten away inside with the conviction that it was Superman who held the primary place in her heart.
“Clark, you need to understand that you’re no more just Clark Kent than you are Superman,” Martha continued, reinforcing the point. “If Lois did decide that she wanted *Clark*, you can no more give her that than you can give her Superman. She has to take both of you to have either one.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Clark agreed, somewhat reluctantly; he wasn’t entirely sure that he wanted to accept that his Clark side wasn’t the real him any more than Superman was. And yet, of course his mom was right. In Smallville, or at home in his apartment, he wasn’t the same Clark Kent as he showed to the rest of the world. Clark Kent couldn’t heat water with his eyes, or decorate his apartment in five minutes flat. But, at the same time, Superman couldn’t write newspaper articles, and he didn’t put out the garbage.
But the Clark Kent who was also Superman could do all of these things.
“My point is, Clark, that it’s not really fair to make Lois choose. Is it? Because it’s not a true choice anyway.”
Not a true choice...
Was he really asking Lois to make a choice which didn’t really exist? To forsake one man who didn’t really exist for another one whose existence was almost as false?
That was something he needed to think about. And soon. He’d endured long enough without Lois, and it was time to do something about that. If telling her the truth so that she could date Clark and be safe was what it took to get her back into his life, then maybe that was exactly what he should do.
Maybe he’d made the wrong decision six weeks ago. Maybe he’d been too proud to do what would have seemed like begging. Maybe he’d just been too scared that she’d stay, but for the wrong reason: to be with Superman and not Clark.
Wouldn’t it be better to have her in his life, even if he could never be sure that it was really his Superman side that she loved, than to lose her altogether?
*********
Lois thrust a twenty at the cab-driver, then grabbed her backpack and the crutches and climbed awkwardly out of the taxi. Standing on the pavement, she stared up at the Planet building. Apart from some scorch-marks around a couple of windows, it looked just the same as ever. To all appearances, business carried on as normal inside; the newspaper was still produced day after day by the large staff of people who worked for the Daily Planet.
Except for the two who no longer worked there.
She, because she’d moved to LA... and Clark, because he was dead.
For an instant, something inside her raged at the thought that the Planet could carry on as if nothing had happened. That Perry could actually edit and produce a newspaper in the place where Clark had been killed.
<The show must go on>
It was a newspaper’s duty to report the news, no matter how painful. The Planet was greater than any one of its staff. Of course business carried on as usual.
She took a deep breath. This was what she’d come for, after all. It was time to go inside, up to the newsroom.
She’d decided, back in her LA hospital room, that she needed to see where Clark had died. It was all she could do, after all - since they hadn’t found a body, and probably wouldn’t, it wasn’t as if there was a grave she could visit.
If he’d been buried, she could have gone to the cemetery, brought flowers; she could have sat beside Clark’s grave for a while and talked to him, told him everything she’d realised she should have said while he was alive.
Such as how important he’d always been to her. How much she relied on him. How she valued his friendship, and how much she’d missed him since she’d moved to LA. How much she wished that he’d come with her. How, night after night, she’d longed to call him, just to hear his voice; how she’d wished that he would call her. But he never had.
Their farewell in her apartment was too little, too brief for a permanent goodbye to the best friend she’d ever had. She’d kissed him; she remembered that now. She’d kissed both Clark and Superman, in fact, although she’d given Superman a lover’s kiss while Clark had been given the platonic kiss of a close friend. Now, in the light of the knowledge that Clark was gone forever, she wished that she’d given in to the feelings she’d kept hidden for far too long.
The feelings which she’d kept hidden away because she’d been afraid to confront them - the feelings which suggested that Clark was more than just a friend to her.
The feelings which said that she’d been in love with him. And now, it was too late.
Lois gritted her teeth and swung the crutches, slowly, awkwardly making her way to the building entrance. She was grateful as never before for the elevator, meaning that she didn’t have to struggle up three flights of stairs to the newsroom floor. Once inside the elevator, she leaned against the wall in relief before hitting the appropriate button. In just a few seconds, she thought, a lump in her throat, she’d be in the newsroom.
The same, familiar newsroom. Except that part of it was badly damaged, although Perry’s article in the Planet had told her that the blast had been contained somehow - no-one seemed to know how. So the result hadn’t been the total devastation that it might otherwise have been.
Except that it had left one person dead.
As the elevator doors glided open, Lois found herself automatically searching out a section of the newsroom with her gaze. The area of the bullpen where she and Clark had worked was to the left of the elevator, easily within sight.
Who was using her old desk now?
More important, who was using Clark’s?
The desk was occupied. Someone was typing busily at the computer, his face averted. But the broad shoulders and muscular frame looked oddly familiar, and for a moment Lois felt her heart skip a beat.
But she was imagining things. Of course she was. It was only that she was so used to seeing Clark at his desk, that was it. It wasn’t as if he could be there, after all. He was dead.
And then the man at Clark’s desk turned to look in her direction, almost as if he’d sensed that he was being watched.
It was Clark.
**********
To be concluded in Part 4
