Many thanks to Female Hawk, my beta-reader. She was very patient and put many work into it and made great suggestions. You are great!
***
Part 1
Mad Dog Lane is dead.
She died the day Superman died, although I didn’t know it at the time.
Mad Dog Lane died the day Clark Kent died – the day Superman died, because the two men were one and the same. She died along with my best friend and partner. What is left behind – me, Lois Lane - a mere shell of what I once was.
After my affair with Claude and the emotional disaster that followed, my co-workers started to call me ‘the ice-queen’ and ‘frigid’ because of the rumors he started. Back then I thought it was unfair to call me that … to judge me without really knowing me … I think that hurt me most, that my colleagues were shallow and didn’t care about MY feelings and my version of the story.
Those days helped me to become the woman I am now. They are responsible for me becoming the great reporter I am now, but they are also responsible for me being outwardly aggressive but vulnerable on the inside.
Now they have every right to call me those names, because after your death it seems my fire, my passion, my drive, everything that made me ‘Mad-Dog-Lane’ has left me, leaving only a cold and paralyzing feeling of despair, as if my heart is filled with pure ice.
The only feelings that remain are anger, fury, hatred and grief. Can you believe that, Clark? Once I would have said that anger, fury and hatred come with energy and passion, they would burn inside you, but the grief overshadows any bit of energy I might feel, extinguishes every spark of fire.
Although outwardly, the grief hasn’t appeared since your funeral … except when I’m home, watching ‘Ivory Tower’ for the millionth time.
I can’t allow myself to begin to cry for you - Clark, because if I begin to cry for you, I know there won’t be any way to stop.
At your funeral I admitted to myself for the first time that I love you. Now a few weeks have passed, I have begun to discover how much you had become a part of my life. When I get into or out of my coat, I think you are standing right behind me to help me with it. I even dropped my coat once at a restaurant at a dinner with Perry, Jimmy and Jack. It earned me several questioning looks and some pitiful stares from the other guests who probably remembered that I was Lex Luthor’s Ex-fiancée, but I didn’t care.
I have still the same routines I had before your death.
When I come home in the evening, I move to the window to open it, in case the last weeks were just a nightmare. Part of me still thinks Superman will show up in the evening to talk to me about some criminal or something else.
Nearly every other day I catch myself with one hand on the receiver while the other is halfway through dialing your number. When I realize what I’m going to do, I finish dialing and wait. I want to call you, to invite you over for an evening with beer, pizza and a Mel Gibson movie. That lasts for a few seconds, then it dawns on me that you won’t answer, that you’ll never answer again. Nevertheless, I pick up the receiver and put it on my ear – I’ll listen to your voice, just one last time – I tell myself … just one last time. Fortunately your apartment is still the way you left it, I don’t want to think of losing that connection with you, when your apartment is rented to another person …
I can’t remember how often that has happened, how often there had been a “last time” since I decided to let you go at your funeral. Although I said goodbye then, part of me couldn’t let it become real, so I didn’t really mean it. That was a white lie to help me endure the day of your funeral.
I have asked myself countless times if you are watching me from the other side … are you sitting there playing chess with Elvis and watching us? It is strange but that feeling consoles me somehow. It makes me feel supported and protected even if you are not here to save me from the trouble I manage to get myself in occasionally … sometimes … ok back in the good old days with the Planet on an almost daily basis.
It is said that the old building will be rebuilt in two or three weeks and that we could get back to work a mere week after that … every employee who isn’t employed elsewhere yet (and most of those too) can have back his pre-Lex job. Perry has actually managed to convince Franklin Stern to buy the Planet. Can you believe that Clark?
There is still so much I haven’t told you but I think you should know that your parents and I have become very close. They became my anchor. When I feel that I can’t hold up the façade anymore, I know I can call them and they’ll make me feel better. I think that is the only positive effect of your death, giving me the opportunity to feel what it is like to have a caring family. I would still trade that for just another week or even a single day with you.
In the last few days, I have begun to worry about your parents, they seem to have lost hope in the world and their faith in the future … your mother told me your dad stopped his diet and began to eat really unhealthily. Considering what you told me once about his problems with cholesterol and blood-pressure …
The other day your dad told me that your mom has developed sleeping problems and started to take the sleeping pills a doctor prescribed her. That is not unusual - but it has been a month and a half since you’ve gone. She still takes them … I’m not an expert but I know through my parents that those pills can lead to an addiction with severe outcomes. Taking those pills won’t help her with her grief.
They are still the most wonderful people I have ever known, but your death has changed them since our weekend in Smallville …
… What is that? Someone rapped at my door? I’ll ignore it, whoever it is, hopefully they will go away.
Now it becomes rather insistent, I’ll take a look through the peephole … a small man in an old-fashioned suit with a bowler, a mustache. He seems to be friendly but even Luthor seemed to be a decent and honest man and where did that get me? What does this strange man at my door want? It is already past eleven!
Now he calls me through my door, “Ms Lane! Excuse my interruption but it is of extreme importance that you listen to me… I know it is late but you have to listen to me. I have information concerning Clark Kent.” Before he mentioned your name I had intended to go back to bed, but something in his voice makes me stop, makes me believe him…
I open my door for him and let him come in … I don’t think I’ve anything to lose and this man doesn’t seem to be a threat to me. The man looks at me and extends his hand. “My name is Wells, Herbert George Wells”
Letting him in doesn’t seem to be such a good idea now. Is he kidding? Does he really think that he’s HG Wells? The writer? The DEAD writer?
“Ms Lane, I know that is hard to believe, but please let be explain before you judge me!”
I realize I haven’t said anything since I let him in. “Ok,” I manage to get out. “You have five minutes Mr. ‘Wells’. Don’t try anything funny because I’m not in the mood for it, comprende?”
“I understand, Ms Lane, but I assure you that it’ll be worth your time. I’m sure you know that I am a writer, but I am also an inventor and as a result I am now also a time traveler.” I snort; five minutes were too many for this whacko! Does he think I’m galactically stupid? “Ms Lane I know that Clark Kent is Superman…”
“Was!” I snap at him.
Oh my god … I’m sorry Clark! I can’t believe that I practically admitted that Wells’ assumption was right. But he doesn’t react and goes on.
“I know that you know it, you found out a few days after what was supposed to be your wedding. You began to think about your life in the previous weeks … being with Clark, with Superman and the only time you saw them together … You were worrying about Clark because he disappeared around the same time Superman was caught by Lex Luthor.”
I can only stare at him, I’m not convinced yet, but maybe I’ll grant him an additional minute.
“At some point you began wondering why Clark always disappeared before Superman came to the rescue,” Wells continued “You also noticed several similarities between the two of them. What made the coin drop was the evening the impostor-Superman came to your apartment and made you kiss him. Clark showed up and faced him. He caught Superman’s hand when the ‘hero’ tried to beat him for interrupting and he actually made him back down. No earthling could do that; let alone come out of it without being severely hurt. You didn’t think about this too much until after the tragic events in the previous weeks.”
We looked each other in the eye and he seemed to sense he had nearly convinced me. “Ms Lane, you knew you couldn’t marry Luthor when you stood in your wedding-dress in front of a mirror only a few minutes before the ceremony. You tried your name with Luthor’s and that didn’t seem to fit, then you tried ‘Lane-Kent’ and you knew what was buried deep within your heart - that Clark Kent is the only man you ever wanted to be with.”
By the time he finished I had tears in my eyes. Being reminded of those precious moments before you died made the tears I’d been holding for weeks flow freely.
“Why?” I ask him “Why do you do this? Is it some sick joke? How am I supposed to overcome my grief if you show up and remind of what I can’t have anymore? Of what I gave away without knowing it?” My voice cracks, but I don’t care.
“Ms Lane, please, you don’t understand I’m not here to make you suffer! I am here to correct history.”
I don’t understand him. What does he mean ‘correct history’? That isn’t possible “Mr. uh … Wells? Please, what exactly is it that you want from me?”
“Oh, I’m sorry Ms Lane! I want you to go back in time to save Mr. Kent.”
I think I’m going to faint. Am I dreaming? A sudden surge of hope wells up in me, but I try to suppress it. Hope is the cruelest of feelings – it appears when you don’t want it and you are devastated when it is destroyed. What this man is suggesting can’t be possible. It can’t be that easy. Life doesn’t work that way!
“Mr. Wells, what exactly can I do? You seem to know everything that happened in the last few months, why don’t you do it yourself?” I ask.
“You are an insider, you are the only one who can work against Luthor without raising suspicion. You are an intelligent and vigorous woman and you have a personal reason to help Clark – you love him!”
“Why do you do this? In our time you are already dead, there is no benefit for *you*!” I ask him.
“You are right Ms Lane that is nothing I do for myself, but I think an extraordinary man like Clark Kent deserves a second chance.”
I close my eyes, take a deep breath and say, “Ok, what do I have to do?”
“Come with me and I’ll take you back. You’ll arrive a few days before the wedding. It is essential that you tell no one about what you know because that would cause a temporal disruption.”
Temporal disruption? I shake my head. What is he talking about?
“Once you are in the past, the timeline we’re in now will cease to exist; the same will happen to your memories, only that will take a little bit longer.” That sounded as if it was taken out of a science fiction novel or a comic book. “Make sure you either take foolproof notes or you change things very early after your arrival.”
I try to assemble this implausible information into something believable.
“We need time to remain stable or we’ll cause time ripples. To minimize the risk of severe temporal damage I’ll only send your consciousness back. Meeting a version of yourself which is only a few days younger *and* changing the situation which caused the time travel is too dangerous. That means you will have to stay for a few minutes or even hours in your own body without having control over it.”
I stare at him. “I don’t care, as long as I get the chance to save Clark”
“Very well, Ms Lane then I’d like you to follow me.”
***********
I wake up; it feels like regaining consciousness after a coma.
Was it real? Or had everything been a dream?
I don’t care; the only thing I know is that I have to call Clark to excuse myself for the way I treated him – in recent days and when we first worked together. I want to tell him that it wasn’t fair of me to expect him to get Superman … Superman … Clark – they are one and the same! Clark Jerome Kent, the farmer’s son from Kansas is in reality Superman … and … he died … was killed on what was supposed to be my wedding day, was killed by the man who was supposed to become my husband!
It all comes back to me suddenly. It is real, or should I say it was real it – is future now, or can become future – I think, this is so confusing – I can change it!
Time to get up! I have to shape history!
<What is this? My body doesn’t move … come on, get up … move … anything …> I have to save Clark; he’ll die if I can’t help him.
Then I notice tears streaming down my face … at least now I know which day it is … I woke up in tears several days before the wedding the day after Clark told me he loves me and Superman rejected me.
For now I give up the fight against my own body, Wells warned me about it, I’ll just have to be patient – GREAT – patience has never been one of my strengths. I really hope I’ll regain the power to control my own body soon. I don’t know how long I can cope with helplessness.
*****
I endure being dragged through my first working day at LNN … dragged by myself … my *former* self, being a prisoner in my own body – it feels like watching TV, only there’s no remote control to turn it off!
When I lived this day the first time I was excited, everything was new - new colleagues, a new news-organization. But now all I want is to go home to find a way to talk to you.
I brought a folder with me. I keep the most important of my articles in it – many of them are about Superman … you – remembering these makes me feel closer to you. While I’m looking at the pictures, all my memories of the previous year together come back. I want to cry, but I can’t, my body won’t obey. After I have been sitting there for a while, I notice a tear running down my face… did I cry the last time? Or am I beginning to gain control over my body?
Then I notice an increase in the hubbub in front of my office. I put the folder back into my bag and stand up to look for what causes the noise – I know what causes it because I have been here before. I even know the name of the two arrested councilmen - Ferdig and Montang. I wish I could tell the other reporters and just leave, I have more important things to do … being stuck in your own body is frustrating – to say the least!
****
Finally, my first – and hopefully last – day at LNN is over. As before, I found out the names of the arrested councilmen for the LNN anchorwoman, Sandra Ellis. At the moment I am preparing myself for Perry’s retirement party, I can’t wait because I’m going to see you. I’ll see you and I can warn you, so this whole nightmare won’t happen, and I can tell you that I love you, not only as a brother and a friend but the way a husband and wife love each other.
I’m done just in time to get into the limousine Lex insisted he send for me … knowing what I know now, I’d rather drive myself, or take a cab, or even walk. Perhaps Lex had bugs installed so he could hear every word spoken during our ride to pick up everyone – except you. If that was the case, we were lucky that our minds were occupied with subjects other than Lex and his legal and illegal businesses.
The moment we walk into the party, I feel my heartbeat increase. I can’t believe I’m going to see you soon. I haven’t seen you since you died and that was several weeks ago. Is it really possible, or has everything been a dream and I am going to wake up seconds before you show up?
What if this dream bursts like a soap-bubble?
I anticipate your arrival. The need to talk to you has become so strong it feels almost like a physical ache. While I wait I think about what I’d like to do – grab you and pull you into the corner the moment I see you. I imagine what it would be like … just the thought of it causes excitement to tingle through me. But I know I can’t – this is Perry’s party and I can’t behave like that. I can’t be rude to Perry, he’s like a father to me.
Finally you arrive and my heart takes a leap. I’m so happy to see you after I thought I’d never see you again. In my mind I run over to you and jump right into your arms and plan to never let you go again. But I wonder if you would believe me even if I *could* do what I want.
I want to raise my arm to indicate where I am … but I can’t. All I can manage is a slight twitch in my arm and my mouth opens a little bit … damn, I have to do something while I still have my memories. How am I supposed to do that without the ability to control my actions? … If I could, I would scream out loud in frustration.
This party was awkward the first time with everything that had happened the previous day. But this time I’m not unhappy about my rejected love, I am angry about my situation.
You and I are sitting next to each other. My hands are aching to touch you. You are here, mere inches from me – I can smell your cologne, so tantalizingly near – but I can’t move my body … it feels as if you are miles away. My heart craves your touch, your hand on the small of my back, or even one of your unique smiles made just for me … I hope I haven’t wiped it off your face permanently.
While we sit together, Perry toasts the Planet and tells us several of his Elvis stories. I hear myself telling him that he could finally go on his trip to Graceland now. Poor Perry, I wish Wells had sent me a few days earlier so the Planet could have escaped destruction. It would have spared him so much pain.
Now Perry is singing ‘Lonely Teardrops’ and following one of the belly dancers leaving Jimmy, you and me behind.
I know what comes next … Jimmy tries some small talk and asks me about my new job at LNN. I tune it out I don’t want to follow the stupid argument that follows, me praising the work in a TV station and you – still moping about our confrontation in the park and the other one in my apartment the previous evening – replying acrimoniously.
But now I hear myself asking you if I could talk to you alone … that could be my chance …
“You are ruining Perry’s retirement party!” I begin. <Come on, I have to do something, say something different from before.>
“Me? I’m not the one gloating over my new job!” you reply angrily. This conversation is taking the same course it did before. I have to change it
“Gloating? Clark, stop please I have …” I manage to get out before you interrupt me … <will you ever let speak me out? I am trying to save you, would you please let me talk to you?>
“All you can talk about is your new life with Lex Luthor.” You shake your head in disgust. “You are only doing this because you are afraid of admitting your feelings to yourself, you are afraid of the truth, that Lex Luthor may be hiding from you what really happened at the Planet…” I have to try again perhaps … I said a few words, different words to those I said before…
“CLARK!” I interrupt you, but then I feel myself losing control again, “You are talking about a man I trust and admire, who has always been completely truthful with me.” Did I really believe that? “If you really cared about me, you’d let me … *help* me to be happy. I’ve gotten a good job and found someone who wants to spend the rest of his life with me. What’s wrong with that?”
“Okay!” You reply angrily. “If that’s what you want, then … fine. Get in bed with the devil!”
I feel the anger of my other self. “Fine …”
“Let’s get back to the party,” he snaps. <NO that can’t be, Clark! Stay!>
“And have a *really* *good* *time*.” My other self adds. Inwardly, I sigh silently in defeat. Hopefully it won’t be long until I can try again.
Unfortunately there is no other chance for me to get you to talk in private and I still can’t control my body. It has become difficult to determine what I’ve already forgotten. Maybe writing it down would help lessen my confusion. But I would have to ensure that my notes remained completely private.
Though the rest of the evening I can’t take my eyes off you, still not believing that you are here. I’m on the verge of crying – how can life be so cruel – giving Clark back to me but not letting me be near to him.
***
All too soon the party ends and we get ready to go home. We leave together mostly because I promised Lex to meet him this evening and by the time we leave Perry is completely wasted. You and Jimmy help me put Perry into the car. The limousine awaits us in front of the bar and all of us get in … except you - again.
Before I get in and close the door, Jimmy makes a comment about how having a free car with driver must be nice. You hear him and reward his thoughtless comment by mentioning that someone like Luthor will always make you pay because free doesn’t exist in his vocabulary. I barely stop myself from shouting after you. I think I remember, the first time I asked you to stop these remarks against Lex before asking you to join us … I wonder how I could ever have thought you would drive with us considering how we’d treated each other. I can’t believe how blind and ignorant I’ve been.
***
After the limousine stops in front of Lex Tower, I shudder because now comes the meeting with Lex; the time when I told him I would marry him. I think I have already changed a few things like the conversation with Clark earlier. I can only hope that I will be able to avoid saying ‘yes’ to Lex.
I get into the building and enter the guarded elevator to Lex’s apartment. The cabin arrives at the top floor and the doors open. I feel myself going into the penthouse’s study where Lex awaits me.
He gets up and steps in front of me and asks: “So … how was the retirement dinner?”
“I’d say as expected,” I reply. Perhaps I should accept his proposal in spite of what I know … I could find out more about Lex and see to it that Lex’s fall comes earlier to prevent some of your pain or at least lessen it …
No, if I want to lessen your pain, I have to refuse the proposal. I think that was one of the hardest moments in your life … seeing the woman you love agree to marry your worst enemy.
I could still try to get something out of Lex - something no one found out in my timeline because Lex was already dead.
“Lex could I ask you something? Do you tell me everything about yourself? Even those things you don’t want anyone else to know?”
“Yes dear!” I shudder inwardly, I wish I could call Superman and make him take me away from the evil man in front of me. “My life is an open book. Shall I read it to you?” <Yeah an open book,> I think, <and if you know how to read between the lines, the book becomes a horror novel.>
“Tell me how you became the third richest man in the world.”
“Okay.” He seems to think a bit, then continues, “I started with nothing … orphaned at age thirteen. It made me lonely … but strong.” He pauses again to consider his words. “I’m no saint, Lois. I’ve done questionable things in pursuing success. Unfortunately, that's the nature of big business.”
I realize that asking him was as futile as it has been before. I decide to stop him “Lex …” but then I notice that the control my body is gone … again. <No! Not now! I can’t let this happen again.> I struggle to get back the control while Lex goes on telling me his lies. I feel the panic rising inside, this can’t happen again.
“But as god is my witness, I swear to you from this moment on, I will change. I no longer want to hurt anyone.” <Liar! > Lex probably had the cage already built by now. I know now that he wanted to make sure you would suffer.> Lex goes to his desk to get the ring and comes back to me. He’ll propose again now. What I want to do is take that ring and put it where it belongs – in the trash bin.
“Lois I’m ready to devote my life to you, to commit to you utterly and eternally.” He gets down on his knee and I have the nagging feeling of being watched again.
“Will you marry me?” I shudder inwardly again and try to bring up every ounce of willpower to fight what I know came next. <Say no! No! NO!>
“N … Yes … Lex I will marry you.” Lex doesn’t seem to have noticed the slight hesitation in my voice. He pulls me toward him and we kiss. If I could, I would throw up.
Now I see what I only could assume before. I can feel you and I can see you from the corner of my eye. You are hovering out of the window, not near enough to be seen easily but this time, I know who I’m looking for.
You throw your head back and fly straight into the sky. I wonder where you are heading. Seconds later I hear it … I’m sure of that now … I hear you scream but I don’t hear you with my ears but with my heart. I have never heard anything like that before … your scream … so hopeless … full of anger … grief … so utterly lost. I want to hold you in my arms and assure you that I’d never marry this man.
I can’t believe I tormented you like that.
Suddenly I realize that Luthor and I are still kissing. This is the first time I am thankful that I am not in control who knows how Luthor would have reacted if I had repelled his advances.
Mercifully I make my exit soon after the proposal … At the moment I can’t stand myself … I can’t believe how shallow I was … how, in my confusion I mistook Lex for something he could never be … and missed the depth and beauty of the man I thought could be nothing more than a friend.
t. b. c.
