Chapter 28: A World of Our Own
Nothing can change it—the magic’s begun.
When we’re together, our hearts become one.
I find a happiness I’ve never known
When we’re in a world of our own.
--“A World of Our Own”
****
The next day, Lois came in to work as if nothing had happened.
I was surprised to see her—after all, she wasn’t expected to be at work since she had taken vacation time for her honeymoon. But when I began to remind her of this by saying, “Lois, you don’t have to be here, you know,” she had given me a look so piercing I had eaten the rest of my words. I didn’t try to get her to go home after that.
She attacked the task in front of us—gathering proof of Lex Luthor’s wrongdoings—with that single-mindedness which appeared to be her way of coping with everything that had happened to her. I guessed it was only natural for a workaholic to turn to work whenever all the best-laid plans were abruptly flushed down the drain. Maybe it was cathartic for her. But it seemed to me as if only time could really heal Lois’s wounds. Still, maybe it was best that she not just sit at home and mope.
Finding evidence of the jailed billionaire’s crimes was a lot like looking for a needle in a haystack, but we were determined. I wanted to start with an investigation of Sallya Technologies, figuring there just had to be a connection there somewhere, but when Lois argued the trail was too cold, I reluctantly agreed. Still, I wanted to return to the issue after we were successful in finding something significant.
We hadn’t been working for long before Perry called out, “Lois. Can I see you in my office?”
She sighed and dropped what she was doing. As she walked away reluctantly, she gave me a backwards glance, and then I pulled my eyes from her. They needed to have a private conversation, and I needed to refrain from eavesdropping.
Frowning in thought, I tapped a pencil against my desk. I still couldn’t believe Luthor had kidnapped me. It was so surreal.
I had thought the government man—Trask—was safely tucked away in a jail cell, but his return hadn’t been a complete surprise. Perhaps I should have even expected it due to his fanaticism. But Luthor . . .
Well, I certainly hadn’t expected that a man whose life I had saved would throw my world in an upheaval because of a misguided belief that the woman who almost married him was in love with me. It sounded more like a soap opera than reality.
Perhaps Luthor hadn’t been too far off the mark, though. Lois did seem to have feelings for me—only they were feelings for the part of me that crusaded about in a cape. Again, it sounded more like something that would be on television than something that would actually happen. But I guessed my life was just like that.
I was caught up in such musings when Lois finally returned to her desk. She appeared to be really glum, and my heart went out to her. I hated the strain she was under, and I wished I could wipe it all away. My animosity toward Luthor deepened, a part of me mourning that he hadn’t been the man she had hoped. Yet I also rejoiced . . . because the thought of Lois being with him drove spurs into my heart.
But I knew that wasn’t exactly logical—because I couldn’t be the man Lois hoped for either.
Before I could think of the right words to string together, Cat approached and told her, “Lois, I’m so sorry about what happened.”
When Lois finally looked up from her desk, her expression was one of suspicion. “All right. Let’s have it. Are you going to make a quip about his money? Maybe say something about how Lois, the poor Old Maid, couldn’t hold on to a man if she had him tied to her bedpost?”
Cat frowned, looking puzzled at the other female reporter’s reaction. “No. I meant it, Lois. I’m sorry things didn’t work out for you.”
“Oh.” Lois’s brow furrowed. She didn’t seem to know what else to say. This wasn’t a side of Cat which Lois saw very often, so I couldn’t blame her.
“Do you . . . do you really think that little of me?” Cat asked quietly. She looked hurt.
“Cat—” Lois said, exhaling. “I’m sorry. It’s just been difficult.”
The sincerity of Lois’s voice improved Cat’s countenance, and Cat said good naturedly, “Well, if you ever need a shoulder to cry on, I’m sure Clark won’t mind volunteering his.”
As the gossip columnist sashayed away, Lois and I gaped at her.
Lois recovered first. “Just when I think I have her figured out, she throws me a curve ball,” she muttered.
I chuckled and told her, “She’s deeper than you think, Lois.” I was glad Lois hadn’t commented on the actual content of Cat’s comment—if Lois knew how much I, Clark Kent, cared about her, then I could lose her as a partner. And I couldn’t handle that—I had already almost lost her as a partner once.
“I’m beginning to realize that,” Lois said softly.
I was about to say something else when the Editor-in-Chief bellowed for me to come to his office. When I had first come to the Planet, that sound would have made me tremble. Now, however, it brought a smile to my face. Still, I was wary about what he had to say to me.
“Sorry—gotta go,” I told Lois as I rose to my feet. “The bullhorn’s calling me.”
I suppressed a sigh as I realized the smile she gave me in response didn’t quite reach her eyes. As hard as she was trying to forget about Luthor, it was obvious she hadn’t been able to yet.
I went to Perry’s office and stood in the doorway. “Yes, Chief?” I asked, my voice quiet.
“Hi, son. Please—come in and sit down.” He seemed pensive and solemn. This couldn’t bode well.
Reluctantly, I obeyed his instructions. In silence, I waited for him to talk, but I didn’t have to wait long.
“That was a great story you and Lois sent in,” he noted, crossing his arms.
“Thanks, Chief,” I returned simply, though I knew I wasn’t in there for him to talk to me about the story.
Sure enough, his next sentence revealed his real agenda. “Speaking of Lois—how is she doing? This, uh . . . this can’t be easy for her.”
“I’m a bit worried about her,” I admitted. “But I guess she’s handling things as well as she can . . . . Throwing herself into her work seems to be her defense mechanism.”
He gave a half-smile. “That’s our Lois.” Then he stared at me for a few seconds until I directly met his eyes. “Now, Clark—do you think you could . . . help me keep an eye on her?”
I nodded. “I’m already on that, Chief.” I rose from my chair, preparing to leave.
But he spoke in a commanding voice. “Now, hold on, son. I’m not done with you yet.”
I sank back into the seat. “Yes, Chief.”
He cleared his throat. “So—how are you doing, Clark?”
“Sir?” I shifted in my seat, avoiding his eyes. That was even more of a loaded question than he realized.
“Don’t play dumb with me, son,” he said, pointing a pair of fingers at me. “Lois is—well, she’s back on the market, so to speak. Have you two, uh . . . had a talk?”
A sense of bitterness welled up within me as my thoughts flicked to Lois’s near-admission of love for Superman. Perry had obviously misread the situation. There would be no such “talk” between Lois and me.
I kept my face expressionless as I stood. “I care for Lois very much, and I want her to be with someone who can make her happy and keep her safe. When she does finally marry someone, I will wish her the best.”
His brow furrowed, and he seemed frustrated. “Clark, you know that’s not what I—”
“It’s okay, Chief—some people are just meant to be alone,” I told him softly. And then I left his office, closing the door behind me. I could feel those wise newshound eyes of his staring into my back.
****
Around noon, Lois and I took a break from our investigation for lunch. She attempted to dart off on her own, but I was right on her heels, sticking a hand out to stop the elevator doors from closing. She glared at me, but I stepped inside.
“Do I make that bad of a lunch partner?” I asked with a raised brow, trying to ease this strange tension that had been building between us. I wasn’t sure what it was, but Lois appeared to be getting more uncomfortable with me by the hour.
“Well, I wouldn’t pay you for your lunch conversation,” she muttered.
A few minutes later, we stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of the Daily Planet.
“Lois, are you okay?” I asked her as we began to cross the street.
“Ugh!” she exclaimed in frustration. “Would people stop asking me that?” She walked forward quickly in annoyance. And then she paused, wide-eyed, as a car came barreling toward her.
Without a second’s thought, I made a running leap and pushed her onto the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street. My heart pounded with adrenaline, and I remained where I was—on top of her—for longer than I should have. I was so thankful she was alive that all I could think was: Lois almost died . . . . The fear that welled up inside me was so strong it was almost tangible. I couldn’t believe I had almost lost her.
“The least you could have done was buy me dinner and a movie before getting on top of me,” Lois quipped as she pushed at me to get off her.
Turning bright red, I got to my feet and offered my hand to her, but she ignored it and rose on her own. “I’m—ah—I’m sorry, Lois,” I told her awkwardly.
“Relax,” she grumbled. She tilted her head and looked at me before glancing at the road. The car was long gone by now. “Boy, you were fast.”
“Heh, yeah,” I agreed uneasily. I followed her as she continued on her way. I felt quite thankful she didn’t say anything else about what had just happened. If she found out her best friend was Superman on top of all this mess, I wasn’t sure how she would act.
But I would reveal my secret to her in a heartbeat if it meant it would save her life.
****
I went home that night in utter exhaustion. Lois and I had been running around most of the afternoon. Luthor had done a pretty good job of covering his trail, and despite his imprisonment, he was still seen as such a powerful figure that even reliable snitches like Bobby Bigmouth were reluctant to put their necks on the line. I was just glad Henderson had enough evidence that Luthor wasn’t being let out on bail.
It wasn’t just the work in collecting evidence that was draining me. I couldn’t get the image of that car almost hitting Lois out of my mind. What if I hadn’t been there? Even though I was Superman, I couldn’t be everywhere to protect her. The thought of my fallibility was really pulling at me. In just a few seconds, her life could have been snuffed out. My life, I realized uneasily, would have turned to utter darkness. It was her light that had been brightening my spirits since I returned to Metropolis.
When I opened the door to my apartment, I expected to be alone. Krypto was out with firefighters visiting burn victims in a hospital—there had been a spate of arsons for a few days before the culprits were caught, and we hadn’t been able to get to everyone in time to keep people from getting hurt. It seemed like everywhere I turned I was reminded that I couldn’t be two places at once. I was so distracted by these thoughts that I didn’t immediately notice there was someone sitting on my couch.
“You,” I said at last.
She lifted her eyes—which had been staring down at her hands—and gave me a small smile. “I know you didn’t want to see me again, but I had something to tell you.”
“Constance,” I said with a sigh. “How did you get in?” The past, it seemed, was something I could never escape, no matter how fast I could run. The thought was depressing.
She shook her head. “Learning to hypnotize people was hard; getting into your apartment wasn’t.”
I crossed my arms. “Why are you here?”
She laced her fingers together soberly. “I wanted you to know—Lex Luthor is dead.”
“What?” I gaped. He was dead?
“I read about what he did to you in the morning paper . . . . Clark, the man was evil. He deserved death.”
My temper began to rise. “Did you kill him?” I demanded. Even if the man had been a criminal mastermind, he did not deserve death.
She averted her eyes, uncomfortable with the strength of my reaction. “My hypnosis . . . might have led to Luthor’s death.”
I walked toward her. I should have been fighting against my anger, but knowing she had killed a man because of me made me feel so guilty and frustrated that all my emotions needed an outlet. “Constance, you can’t just kill people!” I exclaimed, my right fist clenching. “What did you do?”
Constance almost pulled something out of her pocket—probably her pocket watch—but then thought better of it. “I . . . hypnotized a guard,” she admitted. “I gave Luthor a death worthy of a philosopher, though he didn’t deserve that much.”
“What do you mean?” I asked warily.
“The guard poisoned him with hemlock. Well—water hemlock. It’s more powerful.”
I realized then what she had meant—Socrates had died from hemlock poisoning. “I thought hemlock tasted bitter . . . . ”
“Even Lex Luthor will eat something bitter at gunpoint.”
I shook my head in disgust. “Constance, how could you do this?”
Her brow furrowed in confusion. “Didn’t you want him to die?”
Aggravated, I turned from her. But I couldn’t escape her question. In my heart of hearts, I had feared Luthor would escape from prison and attempt to do something. But I had feared less for myself and more for Lois. Even Superman couldn’t be multiple places at once . . . and if Luthor had come to get Lois when I was away saving someone else, what would have happened? Would I have ever been able to save her? What if he had taken her away to an underground bunker in a private island? Had I wanted him to die?
No. No, I hadn’t. I wished death on no one.
Shaking my head, I told the magician, “You aren’t the Grim Reaper, Constance. You can’t wield death as you like. If you’ve murdered Lex Luthor, then you need to turn yourself in.”
She stared at me with an emotionless expression. “If—if that is what you want, Clark, I’ll do it.”
I bit my lip but stood firm. “It is what I want.” I grabbed the phone and handed it to her. “Make the call.”
She held the phone against her chest like a weapon that was about to take away her life. “I will,” she said acceptingly. “But first, I want to tell you about what happened in Africa.”
My mood darkened further, and I felt a pang of regret for that part of my past. “Constance—”
“In Africa,” she began with flashing eyes, “I hypnotized the hoodoo practitioner. I told her to go to the Reserve and pursue lions until she was killed by one.”
Skeptical, I pointed out, “Lions avoid making contact with humans—”
“Ordinarily, they do, yes,” she acknowledged. “But there had been a drought, and food was likely harder for them to come by. That policeman we talked to—I bribed him. I asked him why they weren’t disclosing information on the body. He told me her body had been mauled by a lion.”
My heart pounded. Could she be telling the truth? “Why would they keep that quiet?” I asked her.
“The Reserve brings in a lot of money from wildlife groups and tourists. They didn’t want to cause anyone to panic.”
“Is this the truth?” I inquired, my heart suspended between impossible hope and almost-certain disappointment. Surely what she was saying couldn’t be the truth. I half expected her to say it wasn’t.
“I promise with all my soul that it is,” she confirmed.
I lowered my head, feeling as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. “Call,” I told her hoarsely. I turned from her, barely able to comprehend the release she had offered me. A load had been lifted—I wasn’t culpable for what had happened back then. But a separate load still remained. Africa had taught me a lesson, even if that lesson had been learned through a misunderstanding. My powers would pose a great danger if I ever lost control of them. I still needed to keep a check on myself. That hadn’t changed.
While I was mired in my own thoughts, Constance made her call. When she was done, she sat the phone down and walked toward me. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, tears in her eyes. Before I knew it, she had grabbed my head and pressed her lips to mine.
As I pulled away from her with a strange feeling of pity, she whispered, “I wish things could have been different between us. Be—be happy with Lois.”
I sighed. “We’re just friends, Constance.”
“Not always,” she countered with a wry smile. “Some things are meant to be.”
We didn’t say anything else until the police arrived. As she was handcuffed and taken away, she whispered, “Goodbye, Clark.”
“Goodbye, Constance,” I returned softly.
A few minutes later, I was alone in my apartment and seated on my couch. I thought of Constance. She wasn’t all bad despite her misguided actions, but the grief she had caused me had changed my life.
I let my mind turn to Africa, to the friends I had left behind. In one day, I had cut myself off from all that. The enjoyment I had found in that country had been great—but then Constance had ruined my entire life. Everything had changed so quickly.
Despite it all, I felt sorry for her. Africa had turned her life around, too. But while I would one day be able to move past it, she never could. She had doomed herself. At least in prison she couldn’t hurt anyone else. Maybe they would even be able to help her there.
I inhaled deeply and then picked up the phone. If Luthor was dead, then Lois needed to know. It wasn’t a conversation I looked forward to, but she needed to hear it from me rather than on the news.
I dialed her number with clumsy fingers and waited. She didn’t pick up—which wasn’t surprising since her phone was probably ringing off the hook due to the events of the day—but I did get her answering machine. “Lois,” I said into the receiver, “this is Clark. I have . . . some news for you. Please call me when—”
“Clark?” she picked up. “What’s wrong?”
I hesitated. “Could . . . could I come over? I have something you need to hear.”
“All right,” she said, though I could hear the reluctance in her voice.
“I’ll be there shortly.”
“Okay.”
****
When Lois let me into her apartment, we went and sat on the couch. I wasn’t sure how long I sat there with her staring at me expectantly before I finally got up the nerve to speak. “Lois, I . . . I don’t know how to say this. Lex Luthor—he’s been killed.”
“What?” she whispered.
“He’s dead now,” I said, swallowing. “I’m sorry—he must have . . . meant something to you. Constance—from the Magic Club—had him killed.” I closed my eyes. “She shouldn’t have done that.”
When I opened my eyes, I saw that Lois was staring blankly into nothingness. “Dead,” she echoed at last.
“Are you okay, Lois?” I asked, looking at her helplessly.
“I don’t know, Clark,” she said in a voice that seemed to have some bitterness in it. “You just told me my ex-fiancé is dead. It’s . . . a little much to take in.”
“I know,” I said softly, wrapping an arm around her and resting my head against hers. I knew somehow that her bitterness wasn’t aimed at me. “I’m sorry.”
“I know you are, Clark,” she whispered, her head on my shoulder. “I know you are.”
It was times like this that I wished magic wasn’t so destructive. If I could have waved a wand and erased all of Lois’s pain, I would have done it. For Lois Lane, I would move the heavens and the earth. I would brave meteor rock bullets, continent-tearing tempests, rampaging supercreatures. I would give my life for her with no regrets.
She felt so good leaning up against me—but I knew times like this would be fleeting. Eventually, she would find another man . . . and it would be his shoulder she would cry on. She would have no need of me then. If I had to watch her walk down the aisle again, though it would mangle my heart beyond recognition, I would do it. I would do anything for her happiness and well being. I only wished I didn’t have to protect her from myself.
I looked down at her with a smile as I realized she had fallen asleep. I almost rose to pick her up and carry her to her bed, but she seemed so peaceful I didn’t want to wake her up.
Shifting slightly, I decided with a mixture of reluctance and gladness to sleep on the couch with her. Part of me—the smart part—warned me it was dangerous, but I ignored that voice. All I could think was: Wouldn’t it be wonderful if she could fall asleep every night in my arms?
Unbidden, my mind turned to Luthor and what he had almost had. He had almost been married to Lois Lane.
But he could never have truly known her great worth. Though I felt he had loved her in his own way, he hadn’t loved her the way she deserved to be loved. She deserved someone who cared about her dreams more than his own.
As I thought of Luthor’s death, I sighed quietly, careful not to wake Lois. The Daily Planet would need to print a story about what had happened. Lois and I were too close to it, however, so I resolved to give the story to Jimmy. I knew he would do it justice, though I couldn’t tell him about everything. There were some things people were better off not knowing.
An invisible hand squeezed my heart as I continued to think about Luthor. It was frightening to think about how the man had almost taken Lois out of my life forever.
