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Chapter 13: Resolve
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He hadn't hurt her.
Clark's attention was centered on awareness of his self and his surroundings, conscious of each raindrop as it alighted on his sensitive skin, registering the change of airflows around him as he shifted currents in the air, thinking through each move--no matter how small--before he made it. And yet, despite all that and the infinitesimal, repetitive beeping that called to him above the cacophony of dozens of meshed harmonies that was Metropolis, there was a tiny, precious part of Clark that could think of nothing more than that fact: he hadn't hurt Lois.
And really, what more was there? He had been trapped in a hole oozing red Kryptonite and held his wife in his arms--arms that could demolish the strongest metals on Earth almost without trying...and she had emerged unscathed.
No bruise had marred her flesh.
No bones had been crushed to powder.
No skin had been ripped or torn open.
Nothing. He had exercised control...and beaten the Kryptonite.
He could still feel the effects of the red stone. It still felt as if molten energy had been poured beneath his flesh and now sizzled through his veins demanding an immediate outlet. But he no longer felt that he couldn't stop himself. He knew that if he needed to, he could simply tell himself no and the switch to his powers would be thrown.
It was an incomprehensible victory to him, utterly unknowable in its importance, and so he could not wholly think on it, could only hide it away in a safe place and marvel over it with a piece of his mind that would break it down to manageable levels and allow him to absorb it more fully.
For now, however, duty called. Duty, and something more. Rollie Vale had something of Clark's, a small ornament that meant the world to him. He wanted it back.
How Clark was able to zero in on a specific beeper was something he couldn't explain, but he had done it several times before, and really, it wasn't as if he could explain any of his other powers either. What would the world think if they knew their superhero operated more on instinct and hope than anything else?
Clark shook off the extraneous thought--another attempt to distract his mind from the magnitude of his accomplishment--and circled an upscale building that claimed to house offices for some business or another. Vale's van was parked in the lot, so Clark wasn't surprised to find a hidden back set of rooms on the basement level when he x-rayed the place. What he *was* surprised to see--no matter that Lois had suspected it--was Mindy Church standing next to the man who had fingered Joey Bermuda as the head of Intergang. That man, his eyes shifting from Vale to Mindy and back again, was holding a gun on a sneering Rollie Vale. Mindy smiled at the tableau before her, fingering a necklace that was almost hidden among the gleaming waves of her golden hair.
It was a bizarre enough scene, set as it was in what appeared to be a hidden lap of luxury, that Clark paused and tuned in to hear their conversation.
"Now, you know I don't like it when people try to take more of the cake than their plates can hold," Mindy pouted, still stroking that necklace.
"Oh, really?" Vale commented snidely. "Well, I don't like it when people promise things and then don't follow through. The deal was twenty million for the removal of Superman--and that's what I want."
"Did I ever say that, Benny?" Mindy looked at her henchman, who replied with an obsequious smile and shake of his head. "I didn't think so. And I think it's awful--just awful--that you would accuse me of lying!" Her voice hardened, a bit of the honeyed smoothness replaced by hints of steel. "And if I think something's awful, it needs to go out with the trash. Don't you think so, Benny?"
"Yeah, boss," he assured her. When he took a step toward Vale, his hand tightening over the gun, Clark decided he had seen enough.
Clark didn't allow himself time to over-think the walls he had to break through--he simply crashed through them, intimately aware of how to move his body without losing his restraint on his powers. With the crash of destruction and rubble falling at his feet, Superman landed between Vale and the other two, Benny's gun crushed in his fist.
And no one had been hurt.
A thrill of victory coursed through Clark's mind, tinged with the flavor of elation. He had felt the same when he had ignored the other piece of red Kryptonite's apathetic effect and managed to save Lois and Perry from Bill Church Jr. Though this piece's effects had seemed so much more damaging, so much more powerful, it turned out that it could hold no more power over him than he allowed it. And he refused to allow it any.
"Ooh, Superman," Mindy purred. Her eyes slitted dangerously as she threw a weighted look Vale's way. "What a surprise to see you drop by."
"I told you to have your man go ahead and kill him," Rollie interjected defensively. "But did you listen to me? *No*, you had to--"
As condescending as Rollie's manner was, he was immediately silenced by a miniscule wave of Mindy's manicured hand. "Let's not bore Mr. Superman with petty squabbles," she commented, her hand rising to the chain of her necklace. "I'm sure he's very busy."
"Busy taking all of you to the nearest police station," Clark stated firmly. It was liberating to know that he could trust himself, to be confident in the fact that when he stepped forward, he didn't have to be afraid that he'd pulverize anything and everything he touched. The terrified motionlessness that had afflicted him when he'd seen the blood on that cashier's arm was but a distant memory, made powerless by Lois's assurance that his abilities would do what he told them to.
"Or I could show you the amazing present Rollie gave me." Mindy's large eyes widened decoratively, her lips curving in a smile so predatory it could only diminish her beauty.
Even before she pulled the green rock hanging from the necklace into sight, Clark knew what he would see. The overwhelming buzz of red Kryptonite affecting his powers had masked the presence of the green, but his step forward had placed him too near the necklace.
Sharp, jagged rays of agony radiated outward from Mindy Church to swamp Clark in pain that cut through his invulnerable flesh and buried itself deeply in every cell of his body. Every breath was cut glass, every move--even falling to the floor--was a lesson in torment, and each second an eternity of torture. He couldn't hold back the groan torn from behind his clamped lips.
"Don't you think it's pretty?" Mindy was asking, her words floating just above Clark's awareness, the timbre of her voice unable to slice through the Kryptonite wave that engulfed him. "I think it's very useful--but tell me, does it go with leopard-print?"
"Stop toying with him and finish him off," Rollie urged.
Mindy answered him, but Clark couldn't catch the individual words. He had locked his gaze on Rollie Vale, or rather, on his right pocket. The pain was inconsequential; it didn't matter. It was something Clark had faced a handful of times before, something he could deal with so much more easily than the red Kryptonite. Slowly, consciously recalling the sight of his wife slumped against Perry as she fought to answer him coherently, Clark forced himself forward, dragging himself toward the trio of figures above him.
"Benny, I think it's time to take out the trash."
The command, uttered in such a feminine voice, snatched Clark's attention and shook it brutally.
Clark's hand had encountered the crumpled mess of metal that had been Benny's gun, but apparently the henchman didn't lack for a weapon. Dimly, his vision flickering in and out in a green haze, Clark looked upward to see the scrawny man aim his weapon at Rollie Vale, who was backing away with a terrified expression. More words flew through the air, cluttering the space above Clark's head with their incomprehensible syllables, but he paid them no heed. All that mattered was stopping the soon-to-be-fired bullet from hitting a man and stealing his life from him. That the man Clark was trying to save had just tried to kill him by placing him in a nightmarish situation was immaterial; what mattered was that Clark valued life, and he could not allow death to be so irreversibly played out in front of him.
"No," he uttered, the denial little more than an expulsion of breath and the hint of a whimper. Resolutely, Clark ignored the pain and forced himself to his knees. If he could just manage to place his body between Benny and Vale, the bullet would never be able to hit the cyborg.
"Don't be jealous," Mindy cooed at him, appearing almost feline in her cruel anticipation. "We'll get to you in a moment. Benny!"
Bolts of lightning took the place of Clark's veins, spidering through his body in white-hot arcs as he threw himself upward. Bright lights to rival the sun flared across his vision when Rollie Vale's left arm--deceptively covered by a flesh-colored material--struck his head.
A gunshot exploded through the room and instantly silenced the cluttered clamor of earlier words hanging over them.
Clark winced backward when he felt a body fall next to him, the sound of its collapse heavy enough to imply great weight. Almost as great as his disappointment that he hadn't managed to stop the bullet.
The situation threatened to spiral away from Clark's control, spinning far away as he felt himself dragged under the flow of green-tinged pain. But he couldn't let that happen.
"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...they're part of you."
Lois's voice sounded in his mind, ringing with a clarion call before which the Kryptonite couldn't help but recede. The words were important, beautiful, speaking aloud a truth Clark prayed would never change. And yet...that wasn't why he clung to her speech so desperately. Rather, it was the tone of her voice as she had spoken the words--the inherent assurance, the unfailing faith, the obvious confidence, the unwavering love--that made the memory of her so much more powerful than the radioactive piece of his planet. No matter that he now fought the pain of green Kryptonite instead of red Kryptonite's loss of restraint, the power behind her faith in him was the same.
As if he were still trapped in that tiny space, Clark felt the slight weight of Lois lying half atop him, her hand stroking his cheek and neck, her breath feathering against his skin. He remembered the way her dark eyes had fluttered open when he breathed air into her lungs, the way her expression had shifted into unfathomable relief as she had thrown herself back into his lethal embrace, the way her gaze had followed him when he left her with their editor.
She was waiting for him.
She needed him.
"I can't bear to see you hurt, Clark!" she had told him.
And he could never bear to cause her pain.
At first, Mindy Church and her henchman didn't notice him as he struggled back to his knees and then, biting back his exclamation of pain, forced himself to his feet. He wavered for a moment, valiantly struggling to focus past the dizziness making the room around him spin in circles. When he took a step toward Mindy, he could no longer restrain the cry of pain wrung from him due to his increased proximity to the Kryptonite.
"Getting impatient, are we, Superman?" Mindy smiled at him as she turned to face him. "That's--"
Whatever her next words were, Clark didn't bother to wait for them. Lurching forward, he grappled with Benny for the gun and aimed as powerful a breath as he could manage in Mindy's direction. Though glass twisted in his throat as a result, at least the waves of green pain subsided the slightest bit, diluted by a few extra feet of distance. A blow to the side of Benny's head sent the henchman toppling to the ground.
Unfortunately, he took Superman with him.
Clark shoved Benny aside and pulled himself to his feet, aided by the support of the wall behind him. A magnified burst of agony warned him that Mindy was stepping closer. The stone at the end of her necklace gleamed spitefully, foiling any plans Clark could vaguely formulate.
He had told Lois he was fast. He had assured her he could move quickly even while affected by green Kryptonite. Now, it seemed, was the chance to prove that assertion.
Gathering his resolve about him like armor, Clark employed a burst of what was left of his superspeed to snatch the necklace from Mindy and hurl it into the distance. He made certain to note where it had fallen before he turned back to an enraged Mrs. Church.
"Now look what you've done!" she exclaimed. "Benny!"
But her henchman was out like a light--or pretending he was, anyway.
Already feeling a bit better, Clark straightened and gave Mindy Church his best Superman glare. "Looks like I'll have to be the one to take out the trash."
She turned and made as if to run from the room, grimacing when Clark quickly moved to block her way. The throbbing in his head did its best to distract him from the task of finding something to tie his two prisoners with, but Clark ignored it. It was true that he wasn't as used to ordinary pain as other people were, but learning to control his powers had taught him to focus past any physical distractions.
Perhaps, he thought with dawning hope, Lois had been right to trust him. Maybe he wasn't as dangerous as he had thought.
Rollie Vale's still body mocked his conclusion. And yet Clark had tried to save him; it was Vale's own paranoia that had made him reject Superman's assistance so violently.
A quick phone-call brought the police to the building. Clark was only too glad to turn his two prisoners over to them. It took him a long hour to explain what had happened and give them his statement about Mindy Church's involvement in the events of the past few hours. Finally, however, the police announced satisfaction with his recounting and capped their pens.
"Excuse me?" Superman caught the nearest officer's sleeve. "You mentioned that you had heard of Rollie Vale's involvement in a kidnapping. Do you know which hospital Ms. Lane was taken to?"
"Mercy Hospital, I think." The officer paused, then said, "You look a little...well, pale. Are...are you all right, Superman?"
"I..." Clark swallowed, rocked back a step by the concern apparent in the man's eyes. Had it only been a week since he had been assaulted by onlookers at that hospital rescue? Yet here was a man who was clearly intent on showing the superhero that he was appreciated. "Yes, thank you," he finally replied, wishing he had more to give the man for his kindness.
"No, thank you." The officer flashed a grin. "Metropolis won't be the only city that's overjoyed you managed to nab the head of Intergang. Good work, Superman."
Clark wished, for the first time in his life, that his power of flight worked just like Peter Pan's; with the happy thoughts the officer had engendered, he could have ignored the Kryptonite's effects and flown straight to Lois's side. However, though he couldn't explain how his flight *did* work, he knew without even trying that it would take a few hours under the sun to see him back in the skies. So, blending into the shadows of a nearby alley, Superman transformed into Clark Kent and flagged down a taxi.
The hospital was brightly lit and gleamed like a lantern calling him out of the cold. Clark did his best to keep his steps steady as he entered the building; the last thing he needed was some doctor thinking he needed a check-up. Even entering the hospital sent a thrill of instinctual terror through him, taunting him with the knowledge that he was different from everyone else on the planet. Under ordinary circumstances, Clark would have stayed far away, but Lois was here, and so this was where he belonged.
"Clark!" Perry hurried toward him, looking tired and a bit haggard but with a gleam in his eyes that wouldn't have been present if Lois wasn't all right. "Are you okay, son? You look a bit...green around the gills."
"Uh, yeah." Though he relished the feel of Perry's supportive hand on his shoulder, Clark couldn't help but look around in a visual search for Lois. He missed being able to hear her heartbeat--if only there were still daylight outside so he could have rejuvenated a bit under the sunshine!
"You sure? Superman told me what happened to you."
"Oh." Recalled to his current location, Clark finally met Perry's sharp eyes. "Well, I...I went looking for Vale to find Lois. But instead, I...found Superman. Rollie Vale's dead after an altercation with Mindy Church, who's really the head of Intergang. She and her henchman are now guests of the Metropolis Police Department. Chief, where's Lois?"
"Oh, they gave her a check-up and said she had a concussion and was suffering from a bit of oxygen deprivation. They wanted to give her a bit of oxygen before she went home--and she can only leave on the condition that someone's there to watch over her."
"I'll take care of her," Clark said, surprising himself with the amount of fierce protectiveness in his voice.
"I know you will, son." Perry gave him a careful smile. "Despite our little conversation about hypothetical danger, I know you'd never do anything to hurt Lois."
"No." Clark cleared his throat of the sudden hoarseness afflicting him. "I wouldn't."
"So..." Perry straightened as if to brush off the whole matter. "You talked to Superman, then? Listen, I..." He lowered his voice to a quiet whisper. "I've got that piece of red Kryptonite and the canister of green Kryptonite gas out in the trunk of Jimmy's car. Needless to say, that's not the safest place for them--for more than one reason. Now, uh, what do you think Superman would want done with them?"
Clark paused and studied his Chief, who refused to give himself away by so much as the flicker of an eyelash. "I guess...he'd want you to give them back to Dr. Klein. And, also..." Though he hesitated briefly, Clark knew there were very few people he trusted more than Perry White, particularly now that he was almost completely certain the editor knew about his dual identity. "There's a piece of green Kryptonite that Mindy Church used tonight. Superman threw it away, but if I told you where it was...would you be able to retrieve it and get it somewhere safe?"
"Sure thing, Clark." Was it Clark's imagination, or had Perry emphasized his name just a bit more than necessary? Regardless, Clark described where the stone had fallen and received Perry's assurance that he would find it and see it safely back in S.T.A.R. Labs' vault.
"You be sure and get some rest, all right?" the Chief added, his eyes narrowed with concern as he peered at Clark.
"I will. I just...I'd really like to see Lois now." Talk of Kryptonite had managed to allay Clark's impatience only for so long a time. Now, with the knowledge that Lois was hurt and with the memory of her unsteady gaze when he had left her to go after Vale, Clark felt the need to see her grow almost as strong as the effect of red or green Kryptonite. Almost...except that he could fight the effects of the Kryptonite, but he couldn't deny his need to see and touch and speak to Lois.
"Clark?"
His super-powers were gone, meaning his hearing was no more exceptional than anyone else's, and yet Lois's quiet utterance of his name was as clear and audible as it always was, slicing through the clamor of the world's cries and the immediacy of his own doubts and fears.
Almost fearfully, afraid she wouldn't really be there, Clark turned from his editor, oblivious to everything but his wife.
Lois stood several feet down the hallway, her worried gaze intent on him, her shoulders rounded in exhaustion, her hair smoothed back to cover the lump he knew was there. A nurse stood just behind her, ready to offer support should Lois need it. Her hands, strangely bare, were clasped in front of her, as if she already held him in her arms.
"Lois." Clark spoke the name, but he didn't need to. The sight of her was splashed all across his being, written there for anyone who looked at him. He couldn't hear Perry's quiet good night, or the beeping of monitors and computers, or the quiet hum of people in the background. He couldn't see anything but Lois growing nearer to him as he took large steps toward her, heedless of the weakness infusing his body.
And then he was pulling her into his arms, clasping her tightly to himself with not even a hint of fear that he would hurt her. He didn't need to measure his strength, or doubt his control, or limit his reaction to her. Because, powers or no powers, Kryptonite or no Kryptonite, he loved her. And he would never harm her. Not now, not ever.
"Oh, Clark, I was so afraid for you," she murmured, burying her face against his chest. "Are you all right?"
"I am now," he whispered, unable to loosen his grip and pull back to look at her. He had every inch of her memorized, and feeling her body pressed tight against his and her breath against his neck and her silky hair beneath his hand was more important than drinking her in with his sight. So he held her close and squeezed his eyes shut as he leaned his head against hers.
"I love you," she breathed, holding him just as tightly despite the fact that she was leaning heavily against him.
"And I love you," he replied.
And that, he thought, was a force so much more powerful than any color of Kryptonite.
