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Chapter 7: Doubt
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Clark had jerked the man away from Lois and seen him and his companion tied up using a convenient signpost before he even managed to think past the terror flooding his system. Lois hadn't had to shout for his help in quite a while, and she had been pretty good lately about staying out of any stray villain's clutches, which was why hearing her in trouble now had jolted him so badly.
Leaving his prisoners for the moment, Clark was instantly at Lois's side, his eyes intent on hers as he sought and received assurance that she was unharmed. "Are you all right?" he asked anxiously. His eyes widened when he caught sight of the slowly fading whiteness around her mouth, her attacker's handprint clearly visible.
Briefly, Lois allowed her hand to rest on his arm, the touch sending tingles through Clark's body. "I'm fine, thanks."
He studied her a moment longer, then nodded with relief. She had promised she would tell him if he hurt her again; he had to trust her. "I'll take these to the police station," he told her, his expression adding the promise that he would return as quickly as possible.
"All right," she agreed, understanding both the spoken and the silent messages.
Before he left, Clark peered toward their house, peeling the walls away to make sure there were no additional attackers lurking inside. After a moment, he let out his breath and gave Lois a tiny nod. Then, hoisting his prisoners up by their collars, he took to the air.
Only after he had dropped them off on Henderson's doorstep and given a brief statement did he realize that he hadn't once hesitated due to fear. In fact, he hadn't even *thought* of his recent lack of control.
Unfortunately, he couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not.
Shouldn't he care? Shouldn't that incident have left a deeper mark on him?
Lois had only managed to get inside the door, set down her satchel, hang up her coat, and walk upstairs before Clark was there. Despite his inward doubts, he didn't hesitate in stepping forward and willingly taking her into his arms. No matter how many times he saw her in danger, it never failed to make him sick and shaky with terror and then relief.
"I'm all right," she whispered as she held him tightly to herself. "It's okay. I'm fine."
He drew back to look at her. "Are you?" he pressed, tentative.
With a smile, Lois tugged his head down for a deep kiss. "I am now," she breathed into his mouth.
Awestruck, Clark placed his fingers lightly on her cheek. "You're amazing," he voiced his most common thought concerning her. "How do you do that?"
"What? Kiss you?" She smiled flirtatiously. "I have had a bit of practice."
"You didn't need any practice." He shook his head, impatient with the distraction. "No. I meant, how do you recover so quickly from all these attempts on your life? Anyone else would be shaking for the next hour or so. *I'm* still shaking. Yet you always just shrug it off."
As if to prove his words, she shrugged. "I've had practice with that too. Really, Clark, it's over and done with. And trust me, I have much better things to think about."
Clark gladly surrendered himself to her kiss, grateful he had been able to save her, thankful he hadn't hurt anyone.
"Thanks for coming so quickly," she said when he moved from her lips to kiss her cheek.
"What did they want?" he asked, running a hand down her back in acknowledgement of her thanks, rewarded by her brilliant smile. "As I was leaving, I heard them telling the cop something about delivering a message."
Lois sobered and placed her hands on his face, much as she had done on the elevator the night before, an attempt to force him to really listen to her. "Clark, this is not your fault."
Trepidation fluttered through his mind. "What did they say?"
She let out an irritated breath and dropped her hands to his shoulders. "They said to tell my husband to leave them alone or bad things would happen."
Clark felt himself pale. Almost, he tightened his hands over her waist before remembering that touch could be dangerous. "Your husband," he repeated hollowly. "Do you think they know I'm Superman?"
Her exasperated breath was answer enough, as was the way she threw her hands up in the air, but she answered aloud anyway, as she always did, filling him up with her words. "They're common thugs, Clark, and that's a common bad guy message! They do *not* know you're Superman."
"Then..." Clark frowned. "You think they meant Clark Kent?"
"He is my husband, you know," she replied flippantly. "Besides, Clark *does* have enemies. I'll bet they were with Intergang. Remember, two weeks ago, while I was working on that corruption scandal story, you did that story proving Costmart is a cover for Intergang? Your name was alone on that article. I'll bet you anything that's what they were talking about."
Relief made Clark smile, and he caressed her cheek with a careful hand. "Good."
She gave a satisfied nod, clearly pleased he had accepted her explanation. But then, he nearly always did. Her intuitive thinking could produce miracles; Clark was used to working with her understanding of things. "So," she questioned, "how did your visit with Perry go?"
Clark wasn't sure how to answer that question, not sure how to describe the visit...or address the conversation afterward. "Do you think Perry knows about me?" he asked finally as they headed downstairs to the living room.
Lois paused. "I've occasionally wondered. There's been a few too many times when he lets a story get by without pressing for more details, or when he provides excuses for us, or even when he just looks at me as if he knows what I'm hiding. Why? Did he say something?"
"Not in so many words." Clark shifted awkwardly, uncomfortable with admitting that he had felt the need to look for paternal forgiveness from their editor. "Do you think if he *did* know, he'd tell us?"
"I doubt it," Lois scoffed. "He likes his secrets. Remember Sore Throat? No, I think he'd prefer to keep in the background and say that a man in his position couldn't know the things he knew."
A chuckle escaped Clark. "I'd hate to hear that speech again. I still don't know what he was trying to tell us there."
"I think that was the point," Lois said with a smile. "Would you feel comfortable with him knowing?"
Clark leaned back into the couch and tried to imagine telling Perry that he was Superman. As hard as he tried, though, he couldn't seem to picture it in his mind's eye. Telling anyone had always seemed a frightening prospect, so frightening that it had taken him two years to work himself up to the place where he could tell Lois--and he had wanted her to know more than anything. To tell someone else who wasn't as close to him? It seemed impossible.
"I guess I wouldn't mind him knowing," he finally admitted. "I just...wouldn't want to be the one to tell him."
"Well, if he really does know already--and hasn't bothered to say anything--I'd say it's a pretty safe bet that he doesn't want us to officially let him in on the secret."
Clark nodded, but his reply was cut off by the ringing of the phone. When he answered it, however, he heard only a click. Hang-ups were much more common in Metropolis than in Smallville, so he dismissed the incident with a shrug and took a seat next to his wife on the couch.
Lois scooted closer to him and looped her arms around his neck. Despite the distraction she was willingly offering him, Clark knew he couldn't forget the question he had tried to ask her on their flight back to the Daily Planet. The question he hadn't quite been able to voice.
"Lois." He curled his fingers around her shoulder and waist, almost not even afraid to touch her. "About the press conference tomorrow..."
"What is it?" Her lips turned down in a small frown. "Have you announced it already?"
"No. I figured I could do it in the morning."
"Good. Don't give them any more warning than absolutely necessary."
"Honey, this morning, you seemed to finally agree to it. But...this afternoon, you...you didn't seem as okay with it. So, are you? Okay with it, I mean."
Lois's arms fell away from him, leaving him feeling bereft. Yet he refused to look away from her. He needed to know if she was angry with *him*. He needed to know that she supported him. Because if she didn't...well, he wasn't sure he'd be able to make it through the press conference and whatever its results would be without her there to strengthen him.
"Clark, I understand that you feel you need to make the offer to leave. And, in theory, I support that. I mean, I know better than most that you never force yourself on anyone--though you do kind of quietly sneak in when they're not looking," she added with a teasing grin that faded too quickly. "What I don't like is that Metropolis is even making you think it's possible they'll ask you to leave. I feel...betrayed, Clark. More betrayed than I've ever felt in my entire life--even when I found out what Lex really was. I wish I could spare you this pain."
"Lois, honey, it's not your fault," he hastily assured her, pulling her closer to him and tangling a hand in her hair.
"No, Clark, you've already had to suffer being rejected once before--from both New Krypton and Earth! How can they do this to you?" she cried, and Clark was startled to see tears shimmering in her dark eyes. "How can they possibly want someone as good as you are to leave?"
The rush of emotions that swelled up inside of Clark like an ocean of rippling waves was so strong and so overpowering that he couldn't decipher them or pull one apart from the others.
Protectiveness--always present when he was with Lois from the first time she had turned away from the sight of a dead man to hide her face against his chest--engulfed him, and he pulled Lois into his lap, holding her tenderly to himself.
She loved him.
More, she hurt for him.
She was willing to fight for him.
He had known all these things before, but after the uncertainty and terror and guilt that had shadowed his life for the past few days, it hit him as if for the first time.
Lois loved him.
"I don't care if they want me or not," he whispered as he cradled her head against his shoulder. "As long as you want me--as long as you love me--I can survive being rejected by Metropolis."
"I do love you," she promised him fiercely.
"I know." He pulled back to look in her eyes and gave her what felt like his first real smile since before the red Kryptonite had first affected him. "And I love you."
Her tears were banished with her smile, and when she kissed him, he tasted her love for him and her acceptance of him. As he kissed her back, abandoning fear in favor of passion, he hoped she, in turn, tasted of his love and acceptance. He hoped that with every caress of his lips and stroke of his hands and breath of his being he conveyed to her the one simple truth he had known for almost four years now.
She was his everything.
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Press conferences terrified Clark. They always had, from the moment he had attended his first as Superman to receive the key to the city. The throngs of people, the dozens or hundreds of pairs of eyes all intent on *him* alone, the noise that overwhelmed him, the expectations and possible revelations that might occur with so much focus being paid exclusively to him--it was all something he had tried to avoid. When standing before the mass of people, he could never quite conquer the fear that they were all there to stare at a freak, that they would recognize him for who he really was, that they would turn against him.
This press conference would be worse than any of the others, he knew, and that understanding almost turned him into a coward. It was tempting to just not show up. But if he did that, he would be running from the consequences of his own actions. And that was something he just couldn't do. He had made a mistake--one prompted by the red Kryptonite--and now he had to own up to it.
He felt like a target as he descended from the skies to lightly land on the platform that had been set up just outside the Hall of Justice. That had been Lois's idea--the location a means of reminding the people just what he had helped to save. Clark wasn't sure it would work, but he hated arguing with Lois, so he had agreed.
There must have been at least a hundred reporters present, and gathered in a looser circle were dozens of ordinary people, there to listen to their superhero try to explain why he had endangered them.
He wasn't there to explain, actually--as Lois had reminded him a dozen times before they had even finished a breakfast neither one of them had eaten. He was there to offer to leave. He was there to reassure them that he was there voluntarily and only so long as they welcomed him. He was there to convince them that he was not a lawless vigilante who did whatever he pleased no matter how many people might get hurt. He was there to...
Clark took a deep breath, his plans and resolve melting under the stares of the crowd gathered before him. Whatever he was there for, he wished he could just leave. He wished this was all over and done with.
Make the offer, listen to their response, fly away, he told himself firmly, crossing his arms over his chest in a defensive posture as the mayor stepped to the podium and gestured for silence.
"Please, ladies and gentlemen. I know we're all anxious to hear what Superman has to say about his recent accidents, so let's allow him to speak. Superman?"
"Thank you." Clark gripped the sides of the podium, though he warned himself to be careful lest the wood splinter--that certainly wouldn't help his case any. He couldn't bring himself to look at the mayor. His own fears concerning his powers had protected him from the betrayal Lois felt, but if the mayor had hurt Lois through her actions, then she had hurt him.
The sea of black microphones and probing eyes was an enemy that even Superman couldn't face with equanimity. Desperately, Clark sought out Lois, found her, locked his gaze with hers, and took strength from the quiet confidence so apparent in every line of her body.
"Thank you for coming," he said, inwardly wincing at the stiffness of his voice. He was a farmer from Kansas--no matter that he was also the last son of Krypton--and public speaking just wasn't something at which he excelled. "I called you here today because I know there have been a lot of questions about my performance over the last several days.
"As you know, when these 'accidents,' as the mayor is calling them, first began, I told you it was a medical problem and that my doctors were treating me. It was later discovered that my loss of control was due to the presence of red Kryptonite, which has since been confiscated and dealt with. I am now fully in control of my powers and am once again ready and willing to help in any way I can."
He couldn't look away from Lois, not now, not when he was about to offer to leave the city that had so quickly become his home. Acceptance was something he had craved for as long as he could remember; rejection was what he now faced.
"However, due to public concerns, I have been informed that the city of Metropolis is considering asking me to leave. Permanently." If he were Clark, he would have had to swallow back a lump in his throat; Superman offered him some protection from that. He had to keep his aloof persona intact, had to convince them that working in their city, though important, was not his single greatest concern.
"The last thing I want," he said loudly and clearly, "is to inspire fear or cause harm. So if it is the decision of Metropolis to request my departure...I will willingly leave. I refuse to force my presence upon anyone. Though I do not wish to leave the city that once accepted me so wholeheartedly, I will abide by the wishes of the people. The world is a big place, and it is my hope that even if I must leave the city of Metropolis, we can all still live peacefully. Thank you."
Curious, he thought. Before his speech, his hands had been trembling and his thoughts fragmented. Now that he was done, however--now that he had offered to make this ultimate sacrifice--he was calm and steady. The entire scene almost seemed dreamlike in a way, as if it were already done and over with, possessing no more power to hurt him than an old, faded memory.
"A generous gesture, Superman, thank you." Whatever the mayor's next words were, however, was never to be discovered.
The crowd of passersby and reporters had listened in complete silence as Superman made his speech. Clark had been watching Lois as he spoke, so he hadn't noticed the range of emotions, from interest to horror to desperation to a protectiveness that Clark instinctively knew Lois would identify with. As soon as the mayor began speaking, the spell of silence was broken, and people began calling out all at once, a maelstrom of denial and support.
And denunciations.
"Murderer!"
"Traitor!"
Clark froze. He had lost sight of Lois; she had been swallowed up by the crowd. Each new cry--each derisive, accusing call--made him feel as if he trembled on the edge of a precipice, as if the slightest movement would send him spiraling down to a dark, lonely place even Superman couldn't fly out of.
The mayor stepped forward. "Please! Everyone, please! I understand your fear, but please realize that we are doing all we can to--"
Clark's hand moved as a blur and plucked the weighed pamphlet from the air before it could strike its target...the mayor.
As he stared at the object in his hand and the mayor--who stared back with a shocked expression--Clark suddenly realized that the crowd wasn't denouncing *him*. They were denouncing the mayor. Gradually, a few phrases and calls drifted past the haze of shock and fear that sounded as a roaring in his ears.
"--tried to kill Superman--"
"--shot him--"
"--driving him out of our city--"
"--Superman's the victim here--"
"--who will save *him*?--"
When something else came flying toward the mayor, accompanied by a forward surge of the crowd, Clark stepped in front of her and held up placating hands. "Please, everyone, calm down. This isn't the way to handle our problems."
With the target of their rage hidden behind his familiar crest, the crowd quieted a bit. Clark searched their faces--not for Lois, but in disbelief. He had been so afraid of rejection, so guilty of his own actions, that he could not now bring himself to believe what he was being given.
Trust.
Acceptance.
Forgiveness.
They forgave him his weakness.
They accepted him even knowing there was a red stone that could turn him into a dangerous liability.
They trusted him to control his powers and use them to protect their city.
They had claimed him just as surely and indelibly as he had claimed them.
"Thank you," he said, a ragged edge to his voice he hoped they would blame on the microphones.
Two words...not nearly enough to convey all that he felt. But the people accepted them, glares melting into smiles, anger transforming into pleasure.
He couldn't comprehend the depths of his gratitude and joy, not right now. It was so enormous, so moving, that it might take him the rest of his life to fully savor and enjoy. But that was all right because they were giving him the rest of his life to protect them and show them just how pleased he was with their welcome.
A distant alarm sounded piercingly loud in his super-hearing.
A tiny smile curved Clark's lips.
His city was calling him...and he would, as always, answer it.
With a last nod of affirmation, Clark flourished his cape and disappeared in a blaze of red and blue.
