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From Part 3: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.
**********
And now, the final part...Putting the finishing touches to his latest story, an update on the Planet bombing, Clark calculated how soon he could get away from the newsroom for the day. Now that he’d made his decision, he wanted to be on his way to LA as soon as possible.
He was going to see Lois. And, although the thought of the conversation they were going to have, and her possible reaction to it, filled him with dread, he also couldn’t wait.
He’d missed her so much. The few brief emails he’d had from her had done nothing to quell his loneliness, the empty feeling within him day after day. At times over the past weeks he’d have given anything to see her in the flesh, standing in front of him. Of course, he’d been tempted many times to take a quick flight over to California, find her apartment or the LA Times offices, and just watch her.
But he never had. Because he knew that, having seen her, it would have been even harder to stick to his resolution not to tell her the truth; not to offer her what she wanted. Not to plead with her to come back to Metropolis. To the Planet.
To him.
It wasn’t just that Lois loved Superman, not Clark. It was also, he’d told himself, that he’d known that she was right: she was a major distraction for Superman. But then, that was nothing that he couldn’t deal with in the right circumstances, but still... Still, he’d resisted.
Now he’d finally got over his stubbornness and stupidity in that regard, as his Mom had told him teasingly that morning when he’d explained what he intended to do. He was going to bring Lois home.
Hitting ‘send’ on his mail software, his story on its way to the section editor, Clark leaned back in his chair and stretched. And then an odd prickling feeling made him aware that he was being watched. He turned his head in the direction of the elevator, and saw her.
Lois.
He shook his head frustratedly. He really was in a bad way! Missing her so much that he imagined he was seeing her. Still, he supposed that it was no different from pouring her coffee in the morning even though she wasn’t here. It all just showed that he hadn’t - wouldn’t - grow accustomed to her absence.
He blinked, rubbing the bridge of his nose at the same time, and then glanced back to the elevator.
She was still there. She really was there. Here. At the Planet.
He wasn’t imagining it. He could even sense her heartbeat, smell her own subtle scent. She was looking directly at him, her expression shocked.
Shocked?
And she was looking... battered. Bruised. She was leaning on crutches, her face was bandaged and she looked pale and tired.
Someone had hurt Lois. And he hadn’t been there to prevent it.
He was out of his seat already as white-hot rage coursed through him. Someone had hurt her. Who? Why? And how could he find whoever it was?
And this was something he hadn’t thought about. Lois lived in LA now, and Superman wasn’t within reach. So who would rescue her when she got into danger? Who would protect her when she took the crazy risks which he was sure had already taken at least a dozen years off his life?
And why hadn’t he thought of any of this when Lois had announced her decision to move?
He’d been a stupid fool. As usual where Lois was concerned.
But that didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was that she was here.
Lois. Here. In the newsroom. And in under a second she’d be in his arms.
She seemed barely able to stand, leaning heavily on her crutches and staring at him as if she’d seen a ghost. As he reached her, questions battled to be the first from his lips: what had happened to her? What was she doing here? Who’d done this to her? Had she... missed him? As he’d missed her?
He opened his arms to her, her name on his lips.
“Clark!” His name seemed to emerge brokenly, he thought, but then she dropped her crutches and flung herself at him.
Suddenly his questions didn’t matter any more. Lois was in Metropolis and she was in his arms. For now, all he wanted was to hold her and never let her go.
********
How was Clark here? How could he possibly be here, sitting at his desk, just as if nothing had happened?
How was it that everyone else was acting as if he had every reason to be there? That he hadn’t been vaporised by a bomb just two nights ago?
It didn’t make sense. But he was definitely here. He was standing in front of her, a worried expression on his face, but a look in his eyes which told her that he was very pleased to see her.
He was here. He was alive.
Clark was alive!
She cried out his name, then threw herself into his arms, sobbing with relief. Her crutches clattered to the floor as he enfolded her into his embrace, murmuring her name, holding her close to him. The rest of the newsroom, the people moving around, the noise of phones ringing, keyboards clattering and voices raised, faded into the distance, until all she could see, all she could hear, all she could *feel* was Clark.
Her best friend was alive. He was here, warm and solid as ever.
Too soon, his arms loosened and he held her by the shoulders, looking down at her with a concerned expression on his face. “Lois? What happened to you?”
“To *me*?” she choked out. “What about you?!”
“Me?” He looked confused.
“You’re dead! I saw Perry’s article... You were killed!” she exclaimed, subsiding against him again.
Clark looked horrified. “Oh, god, Lois, you didn’t think...”
“What was I supposed to think?” she gasped, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Clark, it said you were dead!”
His arms locked around her again, one hand sliding up to cup the back of her head, cradling her against his shoulder. “Oh, Lois... I didn’t know - ”
“Everything all right, Clark?”
Lois lifted her head from Clark’s shoulder at the sound of Perry’s voice, and hurriedly wiped away the worst of her tears. The editor did a double-take on seeing her. “Lois! Honey, what in the Sam Hill’s happened to you?”
Clark turned, keeping his arms firmly around Lois. “Chief, she saw your article. She thought I was dead,” he said quietly, an agonised note in his voice.
“Aww, hell, honey! If I’d had any notion that you’d seen it, I’d have called you straight away when we knew...” He gave her a helpless, apologetic shrug.
She shrugged off his apology. “But I still don’t understand!” she protested plaintively. “How is Clark alive?”
“Perry?” Clark murmured. “I need to talk to her...”
“Of course,” he said immediately. “Use my office. Lois, honey, it’s great to see you back! And I want to know what happened to you, too.”
“Later, Perry,” she said, giving him a wry smile. “I think I need to talk to Clark first.”
“Thanks, Chief,” Clark said, and swung Lois up into his arms. She didn’t protest; right now, she never wanted Clark to let her go.
*********
What was he going to tell her?
The same story as he’d told everyone else bar his parents?
But, if he’d already decided to tell her that he was Superman, how could he lie to her now? Especially since, as was painfully obvious, she’d been grief-stricken at the news of his apparent death.
He could imagine how she must have felt; after all, he knew how he would feel if Lois was ever badly hurt or, heaven forbid, killed. That, after all, was one of the reasons he’d agreed to her crazy plan of leaving Metropolis. And yet the irony of that was that, in a city where she should have been safe, she’d been hurt.
And he still had to get to the bottom of that, too.
Inside Perry’s office, he lowered Lois to the couch and went back to close the door before coming to sit beside her. “Are you okay? You’re not in pain or anything?”
She turned her tear-streaked face to him. “No, I’m fine. Better than fine... Clark, I thought you were dead!” Her hand reached out towards him, almost tentatively, before she pressed her palm against his chest. Slowly, he raised his own hand and covered hers, squeezing gently, reassuringly.
“I’m here, Lois,” he murmured; the statement seemed almost facile, and yet he sensed that she needed the comfort of the platitude.
“You’re alive,” she breathed. “I never thought I’d hear your voice again... never thought I’d touch you, or feel you holding me...”
“I’m here,” he repeated; once more he was gaining an insight into the pain she must have suffered. “Lois, I’m here.”
“But how, Clark?” Eyes wide, she gave him a wondering, demanding look.
What to tell her? Truth warred with caution; was this even the right place to confess something as big as this? Then his gaze fell on a copy of the previous morning’s paper lying nearby - the one from the day after his ‘death’ had been reported. There’d been no afternoon edition since the bomb; while repairs to the building were being carried out, they were short of space and so all the resources were being focused on keeping the morning edition going.
“Here.” He held the paper out to her. “This should explain it.”
The newspaper contained the story he’d offered for public consumption: how Superman had got to the building just in time and had snatched Clark out just before the bomb exploded. How Clark had been dazed and stunned from the force of the explosion and hadn’t immediately realised that people believed that he hadn’t survived. How Superman had had to go off to another emergency immediately afterwards - which was actually true - and so hadn’t been able to stay around and make sure that Clark was okay. And how Clark had gone home in a state of shock and only realised when he’d seen the following morning’s edition of the Planet that he was presumed dead.
Lois read the article in silence. When she’d finished, she folded the newspaper carefully before turning her attention back to Clark. Then, finally, she said quietly, “I wish you’d called me, Clark.”
He’d hurt her by his silence - no, not that, but because it hadn’t occurred to him that she’d want to know he was alive and safe. Clark winced. He’d never imagined that Lois might have seen the story; that was the problem. But then, why shouldn’t she have seen it? It had been reported in the Daily Planet.
But then, Lois didn’t work for the Daily Planet any more. She was at the LA Times. Hadn’t it been reasonable to expect that she’d read the Times in preference to the Planet?
On the other hand, she was in love with Superman. So she’d probably kept up with the Planet in order to find out what Superman was up to.
Regardless, he’d hurt her. Reaching for her hand, he said softly, “I’m sorry, Lois. It was thoughtless of me. But it never occurred to me that you might have seen that article. I... I’m touched that you came back here for me - at least, I’m assuming that’s why you came back?” he asked.
She nodded, now looking more like the composed Lois Lane he knew well. Then her expression crumpled again. “Clark, I... I had to come. I know there was nothing I could have done, if you’d really been dead, but...”
“Oh, Lois...” Unable to bear the sight of her crying, Clark pulled her into his arms again, cradling her against him like a precious possession. “I’m so sorry, Lois.”
“I had to come,” she repeated through sniffs. “It was as if... as if everything most precious in my life was gone, you know?”
Clark’s breath caught. What was she saying? “Lois, I know you... well, we’re - we were - best friends...”
“Before I left, you mean?” She pulled back from him, but only so far as would allow her to see his face. “Clark, I’ve missed you every single day since I left. I refused to work with a partner at the Times, because I couldn’t bear to work with anyone else after you. I wanted so badly to call you, all the time... But I didn’t, because I knew if I did I’d want to come back. And I can’t... you know why that’s impossible.”
So that was why she’d only ever emailed him... Though that worked both ways; Clark was well aware of that. He hadn’t called her either.
But he’d never imagined that she would miss him anything like as much as she seemed to be suggesting.
He had to tell her. He needed her back in his life as much as he was beginning to suspect that she needed him. He’d been stiff-necked in his pride for long enough. And both of them were clearly suffering as a result.
“Lois, you can come back,” he said quickly. “There’s something I -”
“Clark, I *can’t*,” she protested, interrupting him. “You know why I can’t. But... please, won’t you reconsider coming to LA with me? I... I need you, Clark! I -”
She broke off, and the expression in her eyes made him want to tell her that he’d do anything at all for her if only he could make the pain go away.
“Lois, you can come back!” he began, again trying to tell her the truth. “If the only problem is people associating you with Superman, that’s a no -”
“I love you,” she said hesitantly, quietly.
“ - brainer! I’m Superman, Lois... What did you say?”
“I love - ” She broke off abruptly. “Did you say that you’re *Superman*?”
********
Lois pulled away from Clark, breathing heavily. *He* was Superman?
*He* was the one she’d left Metropolis for? Given up her job? Left behind everything that was precious to her?
He was Superman. And he’d just stood there and let her go.
He could have *told* her!
She’d given up everything for Superman - a god in a cape, Metropolis’s hero. And all the time she’d been leaving the field clear for Clark Kent.
A red mist began to appear before her eyes. Was that it? Had he not told her the truth so that he could get rid of the competition?
No. No, that wasn’t true. There was no way that Clark could have been faking, that day he’d pleaded with her not to go. Not in either guise. And he couldn’t possibly have been pretending to be delighted to see her now - or faked the worried, appalled look on his face as he’d taken in her injuries.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked him, her voice brittle. “You let me leave, Clark! You let me give up everything... Everything, Clark! I gave up everything I loved, everything I’d worked for - everyone I cared about! I did it willingly, because I thought I was protecting you! The least you could have done was told me the truth!”
“I know,” he said quietly, an apology in his eyes. “If it’s any consolation, I was planning to fly to LA tonight and tell you - and plead with you to come home.”
She made a fist with her hand and began pounding at his chest. “You *jerk*, Kent! How could you do that to me? How could you let me tell you I loved you - how could you tell me *you* loved *me* too - and then just let me *go*?”
He tried to enfold her in his arms again, but she lashed out, fighting like a cornered tiger. There was no way that she was going to let Clark Kent sweet-talk his way out of this! He’d shown no concern for her at all. He’d let her walk away from everything that she loved, and he’d *lied* to her!
“Lois, please,” he said, and the note of pleading in his voice surprised her. This was *Superman*? Superman, pleading with her?
“What?” she demanded. “You actually have an explanation? You mean that there’s some way, however bizarre, that what you did could make sense?”
“It was complicated,” he said after a moment.
Lois just bet it was complicated. But then, for someone who’d been leading a double life for months - if not longer - what was a minor complication such as not telling his best friend who he really was?
He sighed, a patented Clark Kent sigh, and raked one hand through his hair. “Lois, you have to understand just one thing. I love you.”
“You’ve got a funny way of showing it,” she muttered sceptically.
But he shook his head. “Don’t make cheap shots, Lois,” he said quietly. “It really is complicated. You see, I fell in love with you the day I met you - right in that first few minutes in Perry’s office. But you barely noticed me. And then... you met Superman. And you fell for him like a ton of bricks. Didn’t you?”
Yes. She had. There was no way of denying that.
So... Clark had been jealous of her feelings for Superman? Well, that wasn’t any big surprise. She’d suspected for some time that jealousy had been at the root of his occasional snippy remarks about the superhero.
But, wait...
“You were jealous of *yourself*?” she demanded, incredulous.
“Yes,” he said simply. “Lois, think about it. I’m the real person here. Superman’s just a disguise. You were crazy about Superman - and you ignored me. I was just the schmuck you were partnered with. Can you imagine how that made me feel? The man didn’t interest you; all you seemed to want was the flashy suit and the powers. Is it any wonder that I was jealous? That I didn’t want to tell you who I was?”
A lump of lead settled itself in Lois’s stomach. He was dead right. And, while the truth was painful to hear, she owed him the honesty to admit that he was right. “Because if you told me the truth, I might decide that I wanted Clark Kent after all... but only because you’re also Superman.”
Now it all made sense. And Clark was right. She’d never looked beyond the external, had she? Despite all her claims, frequently made, that she was an excellent judge of character, that one of her talents as a reporter was seeing what was under the surface, she’d completely messed up with Clark.
Not only had she failed to see what a terrific guy he was and how important he was to her; she’d also failed to notice that he wasn’t what he seemed. That he was so much more...
And why had it never occurred to her that Superman wasn’t what he seemed? That he had a secret identity?
“I’m such a fool,” she muttered, feeling humiliation wash over her. Clark hadn’t responded to her last comment, but that was hardly surprising. She’d been right - what could he have possibly said? She turned away, unable to face him. “Clark, I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” She heard him sigh softly. Then his arms came around her again. “Lois, you think you’re the only one who made mistakes? Heck, you were just bawling me out over a huge mistake I made!”
“Yeah, but it makes perfect sense now,” she said miserably.
“Lois, letting you go to LA was the biggest mistake of my life!” he insisted. “I mean, what sort of a fool lets the woman he loves walk away?”
“The sort of man who sees that the needs of the many are greater than his own,” Lois said.
And it was true. Superman had been showing nobility in letting her leave, despite telling her that he loved her - but Clark had been doing the same. He’d believed that she didn’t care about him beyond friendship, and she’d given him plenty of reasons to believe that. And, she realised suddenly, if he had told her the truth six weeks ago and asked her to stay as Clark Kent’s girlfriend - the solution he’d offered her just a few minutes ago - he’d probably have come to resent her in time in the belief that it was Superman, not Clark, she really loved.
It had taken their separation to show her the true nature of her feelings for Clark.
“You did the right thing,” she told him suddenly.
“Huh?” He stared at her.
“Being away from you showed me how much you mean to me,” she explained, bringing her hand up to stroke his face. “I missed you, every second of every day... I couldn’t believe how empty my life was without you, Clark. And it was *you* I missed. Not Superman. And when I read that article saying that you were dead... I hated Superman, Clark. Because he didn’t save you.”
“Oh, god, Lois...” He lowered his forehead until it was touching hers. “Lois, I love you. Please, come home to me? Don’t go away again.”
A rueful laugh escaped her. “If Perry will give me my job back... And if he won’t, I’ll just work as a freelance. Clark, I love you so much - I couldn’t bear to lose you again!”
“You won’t,” he promised her, love blazing from his gaze.
And then he kissed her.
********
A long time later, they came up for air and Clark hugged Lois against him, unwilling to let her move even a fraction of an inch away from him. She was his. And she was very precious.
She grunted slightly, and he gazed down at her in concern.
“My ribs,” she explained, pulling a face. “Three cracked...”
“You’re kidding!” At once, he released her, appalled at the thought that he might have hurt her.
But she grabbed at his arms, leaning against his chest again. “What’s a little pain against being with you?”
“You have to tell me what happened. Who do I have to put in jail?” he demanded.
She shrugged. “They’re already in jail. And I think they were scared enough by the pair of bodybuilders who caught them. This time, there isn’t a job for Superman.”
He smiled wryly. “Okay. This time. But, I swear, if anyone hurts you again...”
“This is exactly why I left, Clark! You can’t behave as if I’m the love of your life! Not as Superman! You’ll never be able to do your job properly if you’re always making it clear that I’m special to you.”
“You *are* special to me,” he growled. But he knew that she was right. “Okay, so you’ll be *Clark’s* girlfriend,” he pointed out. “And Superman... well, he’ll still be a friend, but no more. In fact, I might even have him avoid you for a while.”
“You’ll have people think that he’s jealous - a spurned lover,” Lois pointed out.
Clark grinned. “Hell hath no fury, huh?”
“That’s supposed to be a woman, Clark!” she retorted.
“Whatever!” He winked at her. “Anyway,” he added, “I want to know where else you’re hurt. And whether you’re even supposed to be out of hospital yet -”
“You know,” Lois said sweetly, interrupting him once more, “I think we’re wasting valuable smooching time here.”
And, as she curled her arms around his neck once more, he couldn’t help but agree with her.
~ The End ~
