Quick note. One of my betas and I have been having serious email troubles, and so I don't have all the comments on this yet. But at this point, I'm not sure I'll ever be able to get her comments without using the boards somehow, so here it is.
*Not a Deathfic*
The Rebirth Trilogy: Book I- Murder
Rated PG or PG-13 for some violence in later sections
* Warning: This story has a few WHAMs in it. This story does not have a “happy ending”. Please read it with that in mind.*
Author’s note: I am just borrowing these characters. They do not belong to me. The main characters are the property of Warner Bros. and DC comics. No copyright infringement is meant through their use. All ideas in this story are my own, however. Any appearance of similarity to any other work of fiction about Lois and Clark is purely coincidental.
This story is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, businesses/organizations, locales, people/characters, or other real occurrences are used fictitiously.
This fanfic skips around. Initially, it is set two and half years after House of Luthor. The memories that Laurie refers to are set in and around, and directly after House of Luthor. For the purpose of this fanfic, Lois and Luthor’s aborted wedding took place on May 7th, 1994. This is the Saturday closest to the original air date of that episode. Directly after the end of House of Luthor I have taken artistic license. Further episodes’ A plots still take place, with Lois’ part cut out wherever possible.
Cautions and Information:
The foster care system is very important to the children of America. Foster Parenting is one of the best things you can do for a child without a home and most foster parents truly care about the children they are looking after. My own family has done foster care so I know first hand the benefits that arise from it. However, like any endeavor, it is not perfect. There have been historical instances where the system has failed and children have ended up abused or dead. These historical instances are what I am basing my A plot on. For more information on foster care/parenting, see
http://foster-parenting.adoption.com/ “Foster adoption [Foster Adopt] is:
· The family's goal is to adopt.
· The family is licensed for foster care and has an approved adoptive home study.
· The family is open to working actively with the agency toward the child's reunification with the birth family, but is also committed to becoming a permanent family for the child if reunification cannot be accomplished. This involves all the responsibilities of the regular foster family, plus includes an even more active role in working with birth parents.” Information from
http://www1.dshs.wa.gov/ca/adoption/faq.html#difference “Fetal Alcohol Syndrome {FAS} is a lifelong yet completely preventable set of physical, mental and neurobehavioral birth defects associated with alcohol consumption during pregnancy. FAS is the leading known cause of mental retardation and birth defects.” Information from
http://www.nofas.org “Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD)/ Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) is a diagnosable, treatable, biologically based disorder.... The primary symptoms include some combination of inattentiveness or distractibility, impulsivity, and in some people physical restlessness or hyperactive behavior.” It can be treated with medication. Information from
http://www.add.org/ Deafness is a problem many people through out the world struggle with. It has a variety of causes, from genetics to birth problems to infections to over exposure to loud noises. In some cases mild deafness can be treated with hearing aids. American Sign Language is the system deaf people most often use to communicate. For more information see
http://www.nidcd.nih.gov/ ‘= signed, not spoken
I’d like to thank my absolutely wonderful beta readers, Anna B. the Greek, Agent Lizard, and Sara. They provided invaluable help in my spelling and grammatical snafus as well as encouraging me when the going got tough.
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Chapter IA-Death
*** Wednesday, November 13th, 1996 ***
The small room was covered in comforting wallpaper of ABC’s, crayons and teddy bears. Small bodies lay in various states of repose on soft flannel mats, some sucking fingers, others whimpering comfortingly. A short woman with curly red hair and green eyes watched them carefully, while pulling goldfish crackers out of puppets, and apple slices off the walls.
“Miss Smith?” A slender mother stood in the doorway of the preschool; early, but apparently ready to take her young “angel” home. The teacher turned towards her, and smiled, before answering.
“Just a moment Mrs. Marten, I’ll wake Robert for you.” The red haired woman walked deftly around the mats, stopping at one that housed a brown-haired child. The preschool teacher paused for a moment, knowing what “Bobbet” was like when he was awake.
Did she really want to pull him from his peaceful sleep and make his mother face his hyperactivity all the way home?
Oh well. She shook the boy gently.
He woke quickly and raced to his mother, shouting the whole while.
“Mommy! I had crackers! Mommy, Sally and I dug a hole to China! Mommy! Look at my craft!” And so on and so on. Laurie shook her head - he was sure to wake the other children. Sure enough, Jonathon, and then Kate, woke up and began to bawl.
Mrs. Marten looked mortified and hurried her son out of the room. Sammie, Laurie’s assistant, rushed back into the room from the hallway and hurried to Kate. The little girl wanted to play with the blocks, but couldn’t get her wheelchair over to the table. Sammie was supposed to take care of half the kids, but she rarely helped with anyone besides Kate. Laurie Smith looked around the room and sighed, heading for her purse. She needed some lbuprofuen. Rubbing tiredly behind her slender glasses, she downed two of the powdery pills before quieting the children enough that the other rooms in the building shouldn’t be disturbed.
She reluctantly pulled out the goldfish crackers once more, knowing she would again spend half an hour cleaning, but rationalizing it as half an hour cleaning or half an hour of screaming. Cleaning won every time. Eventually, her class of 17 toddlers all woke and she took them out to the playground. Like most preschool playgrounds, this one had a sandbox, swing set, giant tires, and Fisher Price play equipment. Sammie took Kate to the sandbox.
Several other teachers also had their classes out in the fresh air. It was November and quite possibly some the last nice weather they would get all year. The women all held mugs in their hands, steaming beverages within. Laurie’s held Chai Tea - most of the other teachers had cocoa or coffee, both of which Laurie didn’t drink. After an hour or so she slowly began to herd her children back into the room.
Eventually, all the children had been picked up. Laurie headed for her small green Subaru in the parking lot of the Preschool Building. She had two errands before she could go home. First, to Issaquah and the PCC. She was out of soymilk and wheat germ. Then, to the post office to pick up her mail.
***
An hour later she finally was able to collapse into an old armchair in her little house. Her goat was contentedly chewing on its food, and the chickens were scrabbling around in the fenced-in yard. Pulling out a bag of food, Laurie began to boil broccoli and grill some tofu. As she ate she mused through her mail.
Two bills, one advertisement and her copy of the Daily Planet. She had decided to subscribe to the Daily Planet about four months ago- she still wasn’t sure why. Another front page story by Clark Kent. And wouldn’t you know? An exclusive with Superman. He seemed to get those a lot lately. Tired out, Laurie flipped on the news to the newly taken over CNN - a change from the LNN of two and a half years ago. More suicide bombers in Israel, a flood in Louisiana, and a new diet drug approved by the FDA.
Disgusted with the stories, she flipped off the news and headed out her door for a walk. She mused over her home as she did so.
An old two bedroom, 1.5 bath house, it was set on eight fenced acres, mostly cleared. On one side of her, a development loomed, while on the other side, a farming neighborhood - each house set on land and most owning livestock. It was an interesting mix. Two minutes down the road and she was in the heart of a small town, another minute and she was in the maze of fast food restaurants and an outlet mall situated next to the freeway. Well, such was life in a small town. Issaquah, the nearest town of any size, was fifteen minutes away and fifteen minutes beyond that loomed the great metropolis of Seattle.
When she had moved from California, she had not wanted to live in a city; her goal was to completely change her life - she was too prone to making mistakes - but at the same time, she couldn’t bear the thought of not being able to get to a city if she wanted to. North Bend, Washington, had seemed like the perfect compromise.
The people were friendly and she loved her house and few pets, namely the goat, Buster, two cats, Maya and Molly, and half a dozen chickens - all answered to “Hen”. She turned and headed home, any farther and she would end up at the grocery store - and she didn’t need the temptation of junk food and ice cream.
*** Friday, November 15th, 1996***
Workdays were long at the Headstart building, a government sponsored preschool for foster and underprivileged children. Laurie arrived at seven - stopping in at her boss’s office on her way to her room.
“Laurie, how was your class yesterday?”
Laurie shrugged, pushing the edges of the scarf she was wearing over her hair back over her shoulders.
“All right, I suppose.” She grinned. “They all seem to be on perpetual sugar highs, and they have a deep seated need to put goldfish in the puppets. But they’re sweet and I do enjoy working with them…sometimes,” she added with a wry smile.
Ruth Ann chuckled.
“I won’t say a thing.” Looking up, she remarked “Oops - here comes the first bus.”
Laurie scurried off to her room, ready for another day’s infusion of children. Her schedule went much as the day before - first breakfast, then story time. Another teacher came in for the learning periods of class, and a server for the meals. Other than those four or so hours in the day, Laurie dealt with her class alone - well, with Sammie’s help, which meant essentially alone. Crafts came after story time, more macaroni noodles and glue. Lunch {peanut butter sandwiches and applesauce} and then naptime.
This time, Mrs. Hansted showed up early for Sally - once again breaking the only peace in Laurie’s workday. Yesterday’s scene was repeated, and once again, she shoved them outside to “dig holes to China.” The relative peace of happy children only lasted for fifteen minutes, until the first raindrop hit. Winter had come the Pacific Northwest.
***
Laurie wasn’t able to go for a walk that evening - it was pouring too hard. Buster and the chickens were contented in their little shack and Molly and Maya was purring in front of the wood stove. Laurie pulled out her journal - the news was boring tonight and she didn’t watch movies anymore. She flipped back to one of her first entries.
Journal,
I’m marrying him. He knows so much, has so many resources. I would have unlimited access to all sorts of information. I will never have a chance like this again. The opportunity of a lifetime. No more hurt. He can’t hurt me if I don’t love home. Just resources.
~ L
Journal,
No more hurt. Just resources. Right. How stupid can you get? I was an idiot, talking to myself like that. Nothing is ever that simple. Oh yes, stupid.
~ L
Journal,
Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could I have so misjudged him? I should have known he’d be just like the rest. Oh yes, not once did he turn traitor but three times. Why? [The next words were unreadable, having been marred by a tear] loved him…..ark li…..upe…y stor….aid didn’t lo….ew him. I thought I did. Shows how you can trust my heart. Both of them, actually, all three.
~ L
Laurie sighed as she read the entries. What a different person she had been then - and even in writing she had had the ability to babble. She flipped a couple weeks farther in the journal, and came to the entry she had been looking for.
Journal,
Two days. That’s all it took. Sunday and Monday. Now I have a sunburn in California. A new job. I got hired the moment I walked in the door. Imagine me a secretary for a high-powered attorney. It’s true. An apartment in L.A. A secretary? Yes, it’s true. Quite different from what I used to do. I just disappeared- just ran. I didn’t even say goodbye. I just ran.
~ L
A tear slipped down her cheek, staining the already tear wrinkled page. She didn’t regret leaving her original home, but memories were painful, both of her once home and of her brief two weeks in California. Laurie snapped the book shut and went into her bedroom.
After two years, her curly, dark red hair didn’t shock her anymore. She unbound it from her head and began brushing it out. It reached halfway down her back - longer than she had ever had it before. Removing her slender glasses, and then her green contacts, she slithered out of the oversized sweater and classic jeans she was wearing, and into a pair of flannel PJs. Her bed was from the family furniture-makers next door- crafted out of raw wood, cabiny looking, but homey. Her last thoughts as she fell asleep were simple. ‘I killed Her.’
*** Saturday, November 15th, 1996 ***
The next day she attacked her garden with, if not zeal, at least a good work ethic. She was trying to erase a memory. A memory - a painful one. A memory? No, more like hundreds that refused to stay in their precisely filed drawers in her mind. Work - physical work- could erase, or stop memories- usually. It wasn’t working this time. So she weeded - dandelions out of the sweet peas, clover out of the potato patch.
Finally, she gave up. The garden was weed free and she was not memory free. Heading for the shower, she decided to stop pushing them away. Perhaps she simply needed to face them instead of repressing them. At any rate, they weren’t going to go away - so she wasn’t going to lose anything.
Hot steamy water poured over her body as she let her mind go - back to that week, two and a half years ago.
*
That nightmare week. The week she had killed herself. It had finally been too much. It was more than one straw that broke the camel’s back- too many straws to count. Friends. Lovers. Fiancés. Siblings. She had left, getting on a plane and flying to California. Taking a cab to a vehicle showroom, she had bought the first car she had seen and driven. Renting the first apartment she could find, she had then bought as many chocolate bars as she could afford.
Impulsive actions were a strong point of hers. The next day she had a job. She sat in the apartment in the evenings and bawled until it was time to move on, again.
*
The water began to get cold. She stepped out of the shower into the tiny bathroom. The mirror was fogged up. And the towel was too small. Laurie sighed in frustration, before throwing her hands up and walking naked to her bedroom. Clothing herself in loose garments, she scooped up Maya and, Molly following close behind, walked to the living room. It was Saturday; she had all day to wallow in memories.
*
All day to remember doing nothing but crying. She couldn’t remember much of her secretarial work except that conversation. All day to relive memories of chocolate bars and hiccups. Laurie hadn’t gotten drunk - she had eaten chocolate till she was sick. And one morning, she woke up on the floor, surrounded by diet soda cans, chocolate ice cream cartons and candy bar wrappers. And that was the day she had heard the conversation. The next day, figuratively speaking, she was dead. A new name, again, but official now. A new look, again. A new town, a new job, a new house, a new life.
She walked into the bathroom and splashed water behind her glasses. Glancing into the mirror, she saw red eyes. Her contacts were in, force of habit. Green eyes. Silver slender glasses, long red curly hair. Willowy face and bags under her eyes.
Illusions.
She went from being a secretary to being a preschool teacher. She went from living in a big city to living in an almost rural town.
She had given up chocolate and coffee, junk food and takeout. She took cooking classes and began to shop at health food stores. Planted a garden, and gave up meat.
Her house was small, in the country - sort of - and had worn furniture. Everything was cheap and comfortable. Her car was already an inexpensive model that many people had.
She bought a goat and chickens, and picked up a cat at the local feed store (Molly joined her family a few months ago when one of her friends had extra kittens). So much for fancy fish in glass aquariums.
She gave up movies and novels, started yoga, and stopped martial arts. She didn’t have to try to change her personality. It just happened. She didn’t babble anymore, she wasn’t stubborn or fiery. No, she didn’t have to change her personality - other people had done that for her. In short, she reversed everything that made her her. And finally, she changed her name.
She had wanted to kill her previous life. She needed a clean break from the past - a new life, not haunted by old ghosts. LA had been filled with ghosts. She almost thanked that thoroughly evil attorney. He (well, the FBI) provided a cleaner break than she could ever have manufactured. She didn’t want to be found and she wanted her old self dead. So she killed her old self.
A new life, a new look, new habits, new likes and dislikes, a new personality, a new job, a new house, new everything. A new person. She created Laurie. And Laurie was who was alive now. Her old self had died that day, that day when she woke up on the floor and realized her life had to change. She changed it- she became a new person. Laurie Smith.
