First, I'd like to thank everyone for the wonderful comments. Thanks for reading and I'm especially thrilled for those enjoying my little trip down fantasy lane. Sorry if the love scene in part 6 cut too close for some. I usually write my stories with an nfic rating from the beginning because I like to get as raw as possible with the subject matter. Nfic usually covers everything, including bad language, which I'm known to let my characters spat. But my last couple of stories have only been posted on the PG boards. Maybe I'm getting tame in my old age.
Anyway, I threw a horrible curve ball in the last part. So, I'm wondering if you'll be able to handle this one.
Don't say you haven't been warned.
Enjoy!
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Clark hurried down the hall of Metropolis General Hospital. His mother had called him moments ago to tell him Lana had been rushed to the emergency room. She was hemorrhaging profusely and had since slipped into shock.
"Clark!" His mother waved to him from the end of the hall.
"What happened?" he asked as he reached her side.
"I called Lana up to ask if we could talk..."
Leave it to his mom to try to fix this for him.
"She invited me to lunch and as we were talking, she turned white as a sheet, then there was blood everywhere." Martha reached out to touch his chest. "I'm afraid she might have miscarried," she whispered to her son.
Clark pulled his mother to his chest. "It's okay, Mom. It'll be okay." But even as he said that, fear washed over him. He knew his mother was right. She'd suffered this misfortune more than once. She would know if Lana had miscarried.
They settled uneasily in the private waiting room the charge nurse had taken them to. Security had instructions to not allow press inside the building, but there was always one or two that slipped by. If that happened, they wouldn't find Superman waiting anxiously in the public waiting area.
Some time later a doctor finally came in. "Mr. Kent?"
"Yes?"
"Ms. Lang tells me you're the closest family she has." Clark nodded. "She's a lucky lady. The tumor would have killed her if it had grown much bigger."
"Tumor?"
"Yes. She had a tumor the size of a softball in her uterus."
"And the baby?"
"What baby?"
Clark's brows raised in surprise. "She was over two months pregnant."
"No. The tumor caused Lana's cycle to cease and because the mass had been growing for a while, it was easy for her to make the assumption that she was pregnant."
"Was it cancerous?" Martha wanted to know.
"Thankfully it wasn't. But because of its sheer size, we had to remove her uterus. I'm sorry."
And in that moment, so was Clark. Lana would never have the option to have children.
"Poor girl," Martha said as she looked toward the door.
"She's in recovery, but you should be able to see her in a bit. She'll be asleep for a while though."
"Thank you, Dr." Clark shook his hand, then glanced down at his mother. "She'll be devastated," he said softly.
"Even so, I'm thankful she's alive."
"Me, too, Mom." Clark pulled his mother into another embrace as he thought about his long time friend. His own devastation paled in comparison to hers. He still had the option to have children some day, but she never would.
Correction... he, too, would never have children because the only woman he wanted to carry his children never would. He'd seen what a mere acquaintance with him could do. There was no way he'd push that off on her again. No, Lois deserved more than he could give her. She deserved happiness on her terms without her every move being scrutinized by the world.
And he loved her enough to allow her that.
****
Clark held the small, fragile hand between his stronger, larger ones. He'd been sitting with Lana off and on for two days. She'd been in and out of consciousness, mumbling incoherently. He'd be there for her when she finally woke up. He didn't want her to hear about her surgery from anyone else.
She moaned and rolled her head to the side. "Clark?"
"Yeah. I'm here." He reached over and smoothed her hair off her forehead.
"The baby? Did I lose the baby?"
Her eyes were full of fear, his full of regret. "No." He swallowed hard, squeezed her hand.
"What's wrong?"
She knew him too well, even under the influence of pain meds. "Lana, you had a tumor."
"Cancer?" she asked frantically.
"No. It was benign."
"And the baby survived the surgery to remove it?"
He looked away. How did he tell her this?
"Tell me," she whispered, tears filling her eyes.
"Lana..." He swallowed again. "They had to remove your uterus."
"But... but..." She stopped, realization setting in. "I wasn't pregnant."
"No," Clark managed in a strangled whisper.
She rolled her head back to look up at the ceiling as silent tears rolled down her face. "And I never will be," she managed finally.
Clark stood up to sit on the edge of the bed, reaching out to cup her face. "I'm so sorry."
Lana leaned up gingerly and wrapped her arms around his neck. "So am I."
"You have nothing to be sorry for," Clark told her as he held her close to his chest.
"I didn't know. You thought I was having your baby..."
"Shhh," he soothed softly. "Let's just get you well." In the silence of the hospital room, Clark comforted his friend. She managed after a moment to relax and when she did, the tears came. Clark held her until she cried herself to sleep. He felt like crying with her. He'd heal; he'd move on the way he always had. But this would scar Lana forever. He just hoped she'd channel all her strength so she, too, could move on someday.
****
For a few days Clark had been too busy to think about himself and how awful he felt. He'd helped Lana get settled at home and spent a couple of days caring for her. They'd talked and came to a new understanding where their relationship was concerned.
He'd refused to discuss Lois with Lana. And she'd asked. That was a subject he just didn't care to breach, not with her. Not with anybody, especially himself.
But when he was alone all he thought about was Lois and how badly he wanted to see her. How was she? The press had begun to lose interest, so there were fewer pictures in the papers. His mother spoke with her from time to time. She'd mentioned it to him. Knowing him the way she did, Martha also knew not to push the issue either.
He'd done the right thing, he repeated every few seconds. His high profile life would take its' toll on Lois and there was no way he wanted to see that happen. He'd seen what that had done to Lana and he'd be damned if he'd repeat that with Lois. He'd rather know she was living on her own terms than dancing the dance he did day in and day out. Even if it nearly killed him not seeing her.
More than once he'd found himself floating above the gallery or her building. Just a peek, he'd say to himself, just to make sure she was okay. He'd never taken a peek though. He knew if he did, he might not be able to leave her again. Instead, he scoured the art magazines, had taken a subscription to the one his mother had mentioned Lois wrote for. He absorbed any and every detail he came across, but he stayed away. He'd just hold the receiver when he caught himself about to call her. He'd put the cell phones he'd purchased in the drawer by his bed. He had planned to give her one the night of the gallery opening so they could stay in touch at all times, not wanting to play the game they had those first few days. Sure, they both already had cell phones, could have easily exchanged numbers. But there would have been something special about them having a matching pair.
Did that sound desperate? Foolish? Childish?
Whatever it was, it didn't matter now. He should have returned them; he just hadn't been able to bring himself to do it. He'd look at them from time to time, imagining what she would have said about them.
'Sheez, Clark, trying to keep tabs on me?!' He could just picture her teasing smile.
It had been weeks since he'd seen her, since he'd felt whole. He finally turned to his writing to give himself a slight reprieve.
****
Lois had watched with the world as Clark announced that he would not be a father any time soon. Apparently Lana Lang had not been pregnant at all. While Lois was sorry to hear of the woman's misfortune, she was incredibly relieved that a certain super man had not created life with his ex. For a brief moment she was ashamed of herself. But she just couldn't help how she felt.
Then she was painfully reminded that Clark had walked away. She'd told him flatly that she still wanted him, baby or no baby. Well, that's what she'd meant. And he'd still walked away.
The days ticked off. Fall faded to winter. Snow covered the ground. Christmas was right around the corner. She'd had two more gallery openings for up and comers. She spoke with Martha Kent often- sold some of her artwork, was even planning an opening for her after the New Year. Superman patrolled the skis. And Clark Kent was about to release another book.
The shadows that had surrounded him had faded to something he appeared to be able to manage, but he never looked very happy. She saw him on the news almost daily, craved that simple connection. It wasn't very healthy, she knew, but she had to see him- had to know he was okay.
But he wasn't okay. His eyes were haunted now. He always looked as if he were searching for something. Too many times that expression- like he was lost- had nearly caused her to go to him. She'd slammed her phone down more than once when she'd almost called him. As much as she loved him and missed him, she just couldn't bring herself to cross that line. Clark was the one who needed to take that step first. And by the lack of calls, that wasn't going to happen.
The reporters didn't follow her around any more. She'd noticed they didn't follow Clark around as much, opting instead to report mostly on his super side. It probably had a lot to do with the way he'd handled the press lately. He'd insisted that he was just an ordinary guy like the next Joe on the street. He needed his privacy as much as anyone, and if they'd allow him a bit, he'd make sure they stayed well informed. Amazingly they'd respected that and had mostly left him alone. Though now and then the public couldn't resist. His new book was due out in two days and that was big news. The rumors were that this one was a romance novel, and the world was more than a little curious to know what Superman considered romantic. Early reviews would be released today. And no matter how many times she'd told herself that she wasn't that interested, she could hardly wait to see what he'd written. She'd been able to know the man like no one else and knew that whatever he'd penned would be incredible.
The phone rang, causing her to jump. She'd been staring out the window of the gallery, watching the snow fall, lost in her thoughts.
"Lane Gallery."
"Guess what I got today! Just delivered a second ago," came the voice of Scott over the line.
"Hey you!"
"Guess!" he insisted excitedly.
"What?"
"An advanced copy of Clark's new book! He signed it, too. The dedication reads: 'For some of the most wonderful people I've ever met.' And Lois, it's about you!"
"What?"
"The book... Clark wrote a romance novel! I knew I loved that man!"
Lois chuckled softly. Scott was one of a kind. The bell rang on the door and she turned to see a delivery man. "Hold on, Scott. I need to sign for a package." She signed her name on the clipboard for the man, then dropped the heavy envelope on her desk. "I'm back."
"I can't wait to read this. I'm taking the rest of the day off."
"Well, enjoy it."
"I will. I'll call you." And he cut the connection.
Lois laughed softly at his enthusiasm. Then she thought about what he'd said. He'd gotten an advanced copy of Clark's book. She was a little envious. Why had Clark sent Scott a copy? She could understand him not sending her one. Really she could.
But... Had Scott really said the book was about her?
It couldn't be. Why would he write a book about her? He'd left her!
Damn him! Why would he do that?
Come on, Lois, you don't really know if it's about you, she berated herself mentally. Scott just got that impression because Clark's such a good writer.
And with that, she shook away those thoughts and opened the package that had just been delivered. There, in her hands, was a copy of Clark's new book. It was titled simply: 'My Inspiration'.
Scott hadn't mentioned that there was a dedication just for her. On the inside of the first page was the words: 'I'd barely met you, barely breathed your name before you had become 'my inspiration'. To Lois with the deepest meaning.' He hadn't said love, but that's what he'd meant. She sighed softly, warm tears making tracks down her cheeks. If he felt that way, why would he stay away from her?
Turning another page she read the dedication Scott had mentioned. And after two more pages, she jumped to her feet and locked the door, displaying the 'closed' sign. She settled again behind her desk with her prize and began to read.
****
Lois was so engrossed in her reading that she didn't see the slow trickle of reporters that had begun to gather outside the gallery. When she finally looked up, there was a throng gathered in wait. She should have closed the blinds. Maybe they wouldn't have known she was in here. And she knew exactly why they were out there.
Clark had penned some of the most beautiful words she'd ever read. He'd written a tale about a lonely man, convinced he'd never find love. By chance the man had met a woman who literally stole his breath away. She, and her incredible friends, had shown him that some people still cared about those close to them. He'd rewritten their weekend together. But his take had a much better ending- she'd skipped ahead to find out if the characters he'd created found happiness.
Damn him! How many times had she thought that today? If he felt this way, why in hell did he stay away?
"Oh, damn," she muttered about the relentless mass on the other side of her window. She pushed her book back into the envelope, gathered her things, and steeled her nerves to face the music waiting outside.
"Ms. Lane, what are your feelings about Clark Kent's new book?" came the first question the time she stepped outside.
"I'm thrilled for him," she said truthfully. "I wish him every success."
But they weren't buying her practiced ignorance. "How do you feel about the book being about you?"
"Don't be ridiculous. Clark's a professional writer."
"We saw you reading it and the dedication is to you. I quote, 'To Lois with the deepest meaning.' You can't possibly deny it's about you."
Lois stopped her trek through the fresh snow and you could have heard a pin drop. They all waited anxiously for her to respond. "Clark and I were friends. I'm touched he felt our friendship precious enough to earn a dedication for his new book."
"Were you the one who dumped him?" came another shout. "He clearly has feelings for you. Come on, Lane. Shoot us straight."
"You want straight?" she clipped out between clenched teeth, finally pushed to her breaking point. "Not too long ago, you bottom feeders had dubbed me a home wrecker and a baby killer. When you found out there was never a baby in the first place, you hounded poor Lana Lang to death. Clark had to literally make a deal with you devils to get you to back off. You read the reviews of his new book and now I'm back to... what? 'Superman's secret love'?" She waited, as if expecting an answer, but not one reporter breathed a word. "One minute he's a saint. The next he's the biggest sinner. Why can't you just leave him the hell alone?!" She huffed her indignation before continuing her trek.
She'd said too much. They really would crucify her now. And poor Clark...
Damn! I'll probably have to call and apologize for this, she thought as she made her way carefully up the stairs of her building. At least she'd shut up when she had or she'd have been apologizing for a lot more. It was because of them that she and Clark were apart. Their incessant need to know every move Superman made kept him from telling her all the things he'd told the woman in his book.
But she knew now. She knew exactly how he felt. If he never said the words to her aloud, he'd said them very clearly through the lines of his book.
Pushing her way inside her apartment, she dropped her bag on the sofa before taking her book to her bedroom. She'd order take-out and finish reading how she'd inspired her super man.
****
The reviews were through the roof, just as Franklin Stern had predicted. Clark had not formally commented on the writing, choosing instead to say 'judge for yourself'. That was all the press had gotten. And he'd seen Lois' outburst on television several times. The press had gone wild, speculations becoming more outrageous by the day about the true nature of their relationship. She'd been brilliant and for the briefest moment, he'd almost changed his mind. Lois was very capable of handling herself with the press. And by the things she'd said, maybe she was willing to do it.
Yeah, she'd told him as much that day in the gallery. But it would eventually become too much and he'd lose her all over again. He wasn't sure he could do that.
So, he'd chosen casual attire- gray slacks and a black pullover. He would be signing copies of his book in the lobby of Stern Publishing today. His book had only had a limited release until today, but it had been received exceptionally well. The Planet had dubbed this book his best yet. Others had said they wanted more.
He had more- a lot more. Writing was the only way he could explore a relationship with Lois. And he'd explored quite a bit. He had enough for at least two more books, and he wrote more every day. When he wrote, he could say all those things to Lois he never could in person. He could love her in the pages of his writing. And he did so freely and completely. He carved a life filled with love and happiness, all in prose.
He glanced down at the sidewalk. A line stretched all the way down around the corner- folks waiting in the cold for his signature on their book. While he was pleased so many had come out, he wasn't very pleased they had to wait outside.
He landed softly among the whispers and shouts of the waiting crowd. He waved and smiled as he made his way toward the door. Once inside he insisted Mr. Stern open up the huge reception hall to allow those waiting to come in from the cold. Not only were they allowed in, Mr. Stern had already set out the hot chocolate and donuts. Clark went right to work signing books. He spoke with everyone, thanked them for buying his book, and stopped occasionally for a picture. Refusing to leave until every last book was signed, morning began to wind its way into afternoon.
Offering the young lady before him a smile as she moved away, it faded when he saw the next person approach the table. "Scott!"
"You didn't give me your damn number, so I had to come all the way down here just to see you!"
Clark chuckled softly and stood up to greet his friend. "It's good to see you."
"And you... look at you- all buff and beautiful in your twill shirt."
Scott was definitely one of a kind. "Did you get the book?"
"Did I get the book? I've read the dang thing like ten times already." He held up his prized possession for him to see. "And look at the groupies I brought with me."
For the first time Clark saw Deb, Dave, Trish, and Mike standing behind the markers. "It's okay," he told the security guard. They can come in." He rounded the table so he could accept the hug Deb was offering. He received another from Trish, shook hands with Dave, and gave Mike a high five. They were all talking at the same time, but he finally focused on Mike.
"Tasha loved the flight. Thanks, Clark."
"You're welcome." He'd indeed kept his promise to his young friend. He'd taken Tasha flying, spent the afternoon playing with her and her siblings, then gave her parents the number to the Superman Foundation so they could get help to find a better place to live. He'd since visited her again at her new apartment not far from his Clinton Street address.
"So, are you going to sign these or not?" Scott held out his book with a grin.
"I believe I've signed those already," he pointed out.
"And?"
He shook his head with a grin, but took the first book to write another inscription in it before moving on to the others. He also wrote his phone number in each one. None breathed a word as they looked at what he'd written.
"I want my kick-back," Scott told him as he shook his hand again.
"The check's in the mail," Clark replied with a laugh.
"Seriously," the other man added. "Barrett's, Friday night at seven. And before you say no, not one of us cares about all those cameras."
"We consider you a friend, Clark," Deb put in. "A hundred photographers won't change that."
Clark hesitated momentarily, then nodded. "I'll be there." He hadn't seen any of these people since the weekend at the lake and if they considered him a friend, he needed to act like one. Besides, he wanted to be friends with them. Maybe it was time to take a chance or two.
"Good, 'cause you're buying the first round." Scott left Clark laughing softly as he headed for the door, his newly sighed book tucked under his arm.
He said his good-byes to everyone else, apologizing for not keeping in touch. As he watched them leave, he found himself looking forward to Friday night. Maybe they were right. He alone had carved out his self imposed prison because of his celebrity. If he wanted anything different, he'd have to be the one to change that.
After another hour of signing books, it seemed the crowd had become a trickle. He was concentrating on something lying on the table when a voice said, "It took me all day to convince myself to come down here."
He looked up to see Lucy Lane.
"I owe you an apology." She held up her hand when he went to say something. "I didn't realize what she meant to you until I read your book. And I sure as hell never imagined you meant so much to her. I guess... I guess I saw you as untouchable. Because you're this huge deal, I figured no way you'd fall for little ole Lois Lane. It's like..." She stopped, her eyes welling with tears. "But I've seen the damage I've caused and I'm truly sorry. I've also realized that you're not just the next celebrity on the street. You're a very special person. And my sister's not just little ole Lois Lane. She's incredible and special and she deserves a great guy." She wiped her eyes and took a breath. "I'm so sorry. Please accept my apology."
And before he could say a word, she walked away. Thank goodness the press hadn't been allowed in today. He'd insisted on that. His readers deserved to have his undivided attention and that wouldn't have happened with cameras flashing in his face all day. But now he was glad he'd made that decision for other reasons. There was no way he wanted Lucy's confession splashed all over the front page of the papers.
He glanced around at the curious stares. It was bad enough that a few of the people closest to the table had probably heard what she said. Yet, he was surprised at the expressions on those faces gazing at him. They all looked as if they were about to cry- almost if they were happy for him, in a strange sort of way. A woman offered him a knowing smile, giving him the courage to finish his day. He cleared his throat and called the next person in line. He'd think about what Lucy had said later. It would probably be all he'd think about.
There were only a few more signatures before he called it a day. He headed out into the snowy night, recalling all the wonderful praises he'd heard that day. But what had really gotten him were the looks. They all knew how he'd felt- how he still felt. Of course, he'd known they would. He'd put it all out there in the open for the world to know. But the only opinion he truly cared about was the one he might never know.
