***************
Chapter 11: Pain
***************
Lois woke slowly and knew instantly that Clark was at her side. She could feel the resonance of his heartbeat beneath her cheek, steady and sure and strong. Contentedly, she moved her hand to rest on his chest. How many mornings had she woken up in just this way, to just this sound, with just this feeling of happiness? Too many to count and not nearly enough.
Breathing in deeply, Lois wondered at the slight metallic smell to the air, and then she moved her head and all thought was lost beneath the white cascade of pain. Agony thumped its way through her skull, rattling around like dice in a cup, scorching wherever it fell and leaving behind searing torment. She let out a tiny whimper...and wondered why Clark's arm didn't tighten around her in comfort and why he remained silent.
And then she remembered.
Driving home from work. Wondering what Clark had wanted to talk to her about that morning. Finding the front door unlocked and stepping inside expecting to see her husband. Starting up the second set of stairs toward their bedroom and feeling someone behind her. And then hearing Rollie Vale's voice in her ear, etched indelibly into her memory from the moment he had sacrificed Superman's life for his own and sold Kryptonite to the world's worst villain.
After that, her memory grew hazy and dim, but judging from the lump on the back of her head and the pain exploding in repetitive bursts within her mind, she had been hit hard and taken to wherever she now was.
But Clark must have rescued her, she thought. He was there with her, after all; she could feel his arm supporting her and his chest beneath her cheek. Although...his hand wasn't resting on her waist. And he was silent. And when she had moved, his heartbeat had briefly accelerated before forcibly slowing once more.
Something was wrong.
Warily, afraid of the light that would surely feel like a dagger in the condition her head was in, Lois pried her eyes open and took in her surroundings, surprised by the absence of the bright light one would expect in a hospital.
A tiny cubby-hole, limned in red.
A locked trapdoor above her head.
Clark lying beneath her, his eyes shut, his hands pressed to the ground, his face blanked of all emotion.
"Clark!" Lois exclaimed. She regretted it immediately; the sound of her own voice made her squeeze her eyes shut against the reawakened pain pounding through her temples. "Clark," she whispered more quietly when she finally managed to open her eyes again. "What's wrong? Where are we? How did they get you?"
As if she needed to ask, she thought belatedly. Clark always came when she was in trouble.
"It's Rollie Vale," he murmured so quietly Lois had to bend her ear near his lips to catch the words. His eyes remained closed as he continued to speak in short, choppy sentences. "He has all the Kryptonite from S.T.A.R. Labs. Intergang's paying him to get rid of Superman. He knows who I am. The walls--"
"He knows who you are?" she interrupted, panicked.
"He hasn't told anyone." Clark's voice turned dry. "He doesn't want the value of the information to cheapen."
"All right." Consciously, Lois fought back her fear. They would have to deal with Vale later. "What about the walls?"
"They're infused with the red Kryptonite. Move back against the far wall--I'll make you an exit."
Lois had already begun to shift away from him, pressing herself against the wall behind her, when the strangeness of his words managed to penetrate the fog wrapped around her mind. "I'll make *you* an exit," he had said. "He has *all* the Kryptonite..."
Abruptly, she reached out and grabbed his arm. Clark stiffened and became even more still, if that was possible. "Wait a minute," she commanded. She needed to think this through, needed to ignore her headache and focus on the situation, needed to figure out why Clark was acting so strangely.
The red bleeding from the walls to drown them in its garish color was obviously the red Kryptonite infusing their tiny cell. Lois tried to ignore her angry despair at the reemergence of that particular demon so soon after Clark had just begun to move on from their last encounter with it. Obviously, he was afraid to move, afraid to touch her, afraid to look at her, afraid to speak too loudly, afraid even to breath...because the red Kryptonite's effects on his powers very well meant he could effortlessly kill her in such a small, confined space.
And yet...
"You said Vale had both colors of Kryptonite," she said calmly, carefully making her voice level, each word given the same consideration as the last. "So why would he lock you in a cubby-hole with red Kryptonite when he knows that it makes you even more powerful?"
"It doesn't make me *more* powerful," he countered, always editing her copy. "It takes away my control. And he gave me a choice between red and green."
Lois blinked and tightened her hands over his arm. "And you chose red?"
"No. He said he lied."
"Did he?" Again, Lois took in their cell, assessing the surroundings. "But why would he--" She cut herself off, suddenly horrified. "He gave you a choice--Clark, where's the green Kryptonite? Tell me, and I'll try to get rid of it!"
When he remained silent, Lois frantically began running her hands along the walls and corners of the cubby-hole, ignoring the dizziness assailing her as she sought any hint of a stone, hoping it was where she could get to it. Her body shuddered at the thought of seeing Clark laid helpless before the green Kryptonite yet again. There was something so wrong about seeing Superman in pain and hurting, something so unnatural that it set every cell in her body to rebellion at the sight of it.
"It's in a gaseous form," Clark finally admitted. "Now, Lois, please, move back so I can get you out of here."
"No." Lois wriggled closer to Clark and draped her leg over his and her arm over his chest. Captivity was not something she enjoyed, but there was no way she was going to let Clark move before she figured out what Vale's game was. "Not until you tell me where the green Kryptonite is. I know it has to be here somewhere. Did he leave it waiting in the room beyond this cubby-hole? Is that it? Did he tell you that you could escape the red Kryptonite so long as you didn't mind running into the green?"
"No, not exactly." Lois noticed with interest that tiny dents started to form in the floor beneath Clark's fingers. Suddenly, as if noticing the same thing, Clark let out a stuttering breath and raised his fingers into the air. "Please, Lois," he begged, his voice almost frantic. His eyes slid halfway open before he slammed them shut again. "Please, get out of the way."
"No. Tell me, Clark."
"I can't hurt you again!" he exclaimed in a voice turned ragged with the effort he was expending to keep it quiet and harmless. "Can't you see that?"
"Clark, you know how stubborn I am," Lois commented levelly. "And I'm not moving until you tell me exactly why Vale left you in here when he should know it wouldn't hold you."
Slowly, gently, Clark turned his head so he was facing away from her and let out a breath. He lowered his hands back to the floor, placing them very precisely over the infinitesimal dents. His body relaxed beneath Lois, as if he were purposely divorcing his emotion from his body. "He wants me to kill you, Lois, to prove to Metropolis that I can't be trusted. Failing that, he wants to kill me. He claims the walls are rigged with some sort of triggering system that will release the green Kryptonite gas into the cell if I break through. Now, will you please move out of the way? I'm doing my best to control my strength, but I can't bear to hurt you. I *won't* hurt you."
Surely, Lois thought, she was dreaming. She had to be. Sure, stuff like this happened to them all the time, but there was something about the blood-drenched closeness of the cubby-hole around them, something about the resigned resolve apparent in the timbre of Clark's voice, something about the twisted sickness of the entire situation that made it so much worse this time.
"So," she said, shocked by the conversational tone of her voice, "you want me to just move aside so you can kill yourself?"
"I can get you out," he said confidently, missing or ignoring the dangerous note in her voice. "Besides, remember, the different colors neutralize each other."
"No, they don't!" Lois snapped angrily. "The green counteracted the red, but the red didn't do anything to stop the green from tearing through your flesh! How dare you, Clark? How dare you ask me to move aside and watch you die?"
"I'm super-fast," he explained with that irritating calm--the calmness that was most likely saving her life, Lois forced herself to realize. "I can break through the walls and get out of range of the gas without getting more than a whiff of it."
"The last time you got 'a whiff' of Kryptonite gas, you almost died!" Lois exclaimed, vaguely realizing that her entire body was trembling. She hadn't yet figured out how the same qualities that made her love him could also infuriate her so badly. "If Lord Nor hadn't cheated and tried his utmost to kill you, you *would* have died! I am not letting you subject yourself to it again!"
"And I can't hurt you again, Lois! He wants me to kill you--do you know how easy it would be for that to happen? I can't hurt you!"
"And I can't watch you die!" she cried, splaying her hands against his chest to reassure herself she could still feel his heart beating. "I can't bear to see you hurt, Clark!"
He was silent for a long moment before he finally whispered, "I know. I know, Lois. I finally read your articles...I'm sorry you had to go through that."
Shuddering, Lois leaned her head down to rest just below his chin, wishing he would put his arms around her, knowing why he couldn't. "Just don't make me go through it again. Now, we'll find a way out--one that doesn't involve you getting a lungful of lethal gas, all right?"
"All right," he agreed in that noncommittal way of his, the way that allowed him to soothe her temper yet still convey that he would go ahead and do what he thought was best. It was one of the first things about him that had caught her attention and one of his most irritating qualities. "But I don't think we have much time. Do you taste that metallic taint in the air?"
"Yes." Lois heaved a heavy sigh. "The air's running out?"
"This cubby-hole isn't air-tight, but it's close, and there were enough chemicals leaking in the warehouse above that what air we do have is poisoned. I tried to breathe all the poison in, but it was using up what air we had, so I stopped."
"Well..." Lois remembered all the times when Clark had done his best to make her feel better about situations and forced a bright tone. "We'll think of something. How long have we been in here?"
"Not quite an hour."
"Hmm." Desperately, Lois looked around, searching for anything she could use as inspiration or an exit. Unfortunately, there wasn't much to see or to take advantage of. Dingy walls, soiled floor, heavy trapdoor, locked from the outside...and poisoned air. Every breath she took seemed weighted with the knowledge that it could eventually kill her. "So, you really liked my articles then?"
"Yes. How could I not?" he added, his voice a caress no matter that he was wisely avoiding physical contact. "Although I think you should have used a different name."
"You and Perry," Lois scoffed, pressing herself more closely against Clark. She didn't dare shift her weight off him, not when she knew he would do whatever he thought he had to in order to see her free. She had learned that the moment he had broken her out of prison despite his belief in the justice system. "Why would my name on the editorials be any worse than the articles about Superman?"
"I just don't think it's wise to link your name so irreversibly with Superman. There are a lot of people out there who want to pull Superman down and are willing to do anything to achieve that goal."
"Clark," she said wryly. "Considering where we are, I think that goes without saying."
"Lois." There was a hollowness to his voice that made her swallow. "If I tell you something, will you promise not to be afraid?"
"I will," she managed. She slid her hands up to caress his neck, hating the crimson hue that made shadows pool in the hollows of his face, loving the familiar features that had so quickly and irrevocably become so necessary for her welfare.
"I...I'm afraid." Finally, he opened his eyes and met her gaze, drinking in the sight of her. "I can feel all my powers bubbling up inside me--I don't know how much longer I can control them."
"I do." She bent her head so that her lips were just above his, the force of her stare prohibiting him from looking away. He held his breath, but otherwise made no move to withdraw from her. "You will control them as long as you need to. Because in the instant when it feels as if they grow too strong for you--when they fight to break free--you'll remember everything it is you love. And then your control of the powers won't be something you have to fight for or struggle to find. It will be there because you can't bear to harm anyone...and your own powers will shut off. They're not a malevolent force, Clark--they're part of you. And they have the same morals and integrity and heart as you do. I don't understand how you can fear your powers, not when they're only an outpouring of you."
His hand half-rose toward her shoulder before he reversed its movement, yet Lois felt as warmed as if he truly had touched her. The emotion so blatantly exposed on his face was enough to enfold her in the love he had given her so selflessly and continuously since the first days after their introduction. She had depended on that love so many times, trusting it to keep her upright and strong even before she had admitted to herself what Clark truly offered her. Now, without words, Clark expressed all that again.
"You've always accepted my powers so easily," he murmured. "I was always afraid to ask why, but if that's why you...I won't disappoint you, Lois."
"I know that," she said in a tone that indicated that fact had never been in doubt. And it hadn't. Then, choosing to disregard their situation for the moment, Lois touched her lips to his in a kiss that left him frozen in fear and strengthened with hope. When she pulled away, Clark leaned his head forward and kissed her again. Only...this wasn't just a kiss.
He breathed pure air into her.
And when he pulled back, he smiled at her...and did not take another breath.
"Clark," she began uncertainly.
"I can hold my breath a long time," he explained shortly. "You think of a way out of here. I'll preserve our air."
He had given *her* the hard task, Lois thought sourly. But then, she knew that was purposeful. Clark had already deduced that there was no other way out of the cubby-hole than to break the field and release the green Kryptonite gas. He was only waiting for her to come to the same conclusion.
Well, he would be waiting for a long time, she decided firmly. She *would* find a way out of this that didn't involve him dying, no matter how long it took. Clark had been to space before without even an oxygen mask, after all; surely holding his breath would help him focus on controlling his powers.
But as much as Lois racked her brain for an answer, there didn't seem to be any way out of their cell. She ran her hands along the edges of the trapdoor, but it was too heavy for her--and allowing Clark to open it would allow the poisonous gas to kill him.
"I can move faster than the gas," Clark reassured her again and took advantage of her glare toward him to once more give her breath, his lips as soft against hers as the brush of wind.
"No." The word was almost no more than the expelling of breath. Lois felt bad as soon as it was uttered, as if she had repudiated not only his sacrificial offer but also the air he was freely giving her. "Please," she added, "let's wait a little longer."
His smile was answer enough, more eloquent than a well-written article.
Exhausted beyond words, still fighting the headache pounding behind her temples, Lois closed her eyes and leaned her head on his chest. Dimly, she was aware that more time was passing than she thought and that she really needed to be doing something, but it was so hard to stay alert and think on whatever it was that needed doing. Something about a door. Or walls, maybe?
"Lois? Please." The gentlest touch she had ever known whispered along her cheek, curved under her chin, and lifted her face. Lips as familiar as her own played along her mouth and with the sudden rush of clean, delicious air, Lois felt awake enough to open her eyes. She was greeted by the sight of Clark's gaze, mingled terror and resolve.
"Clark?" she managed groggily. That light touch guiding her head forward, that kiss that felt like coming home, and more air, this time enough to realize that he was afraid for her, so afraid he had risked touching her despite the fact that the walls around them still pulsed with red Kryptonite.
"There's no more time, Lois," he told her, and moving slowly, he shifted his body to place her on the floor. "Please, I promise I'll go as fast as I can--and we both know that's very fast. Now, please, get as far away from me as you can; curl up in the corner and cover your head with your hands in case some of the shrapnel gets away from me. All right?"
Terror flooded through Lois's body, setting every molecule alight, tingling along her bones, flaring in her senses. Suddenly more alert than she wanted to be, she reached out and grabbed Clark's head, then kissed him fiercely. "Please, Clark, *please* be careful."
What room was there for fury within her when Clark's beautiful, expressive smile filled up so much of herself? What world could contain both the evil of the poisoned gas awaiting him and the kindness implicit in his own, added kiss of life and last insanely careful caress of her cheek?
What life would there be if he breathed his last so soon after giving all his breath to her?
But Lois Lane did not fall apart, no matter how much she felt like it on the inside. So she forced herself to give him her own tremulous smile, and she scrambled as far into the corner as she could, and she covered her head with her hands. And she prayed.
Clark must have been exerting more control in the last moments than he ever had before in his life--and that was saying something, as Lois well knew--yet he paused to collect himself. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the walls around him and the trapdoor above him, searching for the best point to strike. He glanced one last time at Lois; his eyes didn't even touch on the bruise on her arm, let alone linger on it. Instead, he looked only at her eyes. Then he smiled again because, after all, that was what he did, and he turned away from her to face the trap door.
The sound of gunfire in the distance was explosively loud and startling, made more so by the way Clark flinched away from the noise in pain.
Relief threatened to send Lois shrinking in on herself in a gibbering mess--she ignored that compulsion and threw herself forward to grab hold of Clark's arm, both of her hands curling around it to keep him in place. "Wait!" she exclaimed, the word barely understandable so shakily did it emerge. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you," she gasped incoherently. Without another word, she launched herself into Clark's outspread arms and pressed herself tightly against him. Her body shuddered with the force of her relief, and the heaving gasps she was taking in were doing nothing more than making her lightheaded and exacerbating her headache...but none of that mattered.
Something was happening out there, something that might conceivably give them another option.
An option that didn't involve Clark breathing in green Kryptonite.
Lois knew that, incomprehensibly to her, he preferred the green Kryptonite over the red, but frankly, Lois would have done anything in the world to ensure that Clark never again had to experience the pain and helplessness brought on by the cursed green stone.
"Lois." At the murmur of her name, she looked down to Clark and received another breath of air, enough to help her focus. "It's gunfire. It might be a power play, or maybe Intergang double-crossed Vale."
"It's still a chance," she said shakily when she trusted her voice. "You said we were about taking a chance. Please, wait just a bit longer. I'll start yelling to let them know we're here. You--" Glancing around at their surroundings and considering what might have to be done to free them from the cubby-hole, she directed, "You change into Superman."
"Superman?" Clark whispered. "The space is too small. It--"
"We're here! Over here!" Lois shouted, drowning out Clark's caution.
Accompanied by the sounds of running feet approaching and the calls of at least two men, Lois stilled the trembling of her fingers and began to undo the buttons of Clark's shirt. "If anyone comes to find us here with the Kryptonite or if you have to stop someone from shooting us, it's best they find Superman, not Clark Kent. Now, hurry, help me get you into your Superman Suit."
After an infinitesimal pause, courage and resolve reshaped the features of Clark's face. "Move back," he whispered, giving her another breath before allowing her to obey him.
Lois rolled against the wall, stretching herself flat to give Clark all the room he needed. Feeling him moving behind her, hearing the rustling of noise as he made his slow change from Clark Kent to Superman, Lois closed her eyes and breathed a fervent prayer of thanks.
No matter what else happened or who was outside their cell, Clark was safe for the moment.
And that was all that mattered.
