From Part 7:
“I was erasing it! I meant to erase it—and I hit the wrong button! It was all a mistake, Clark!”
“Yes, it was. I should never have trusted you, Lois,” he says, reaching for his coat. I step over to him to stop him.
“Please, don’t go! I’m going to call Perry and kill the story! I swear! You have come to mean much more to me than a story! I’m so sorry, Clark!”
“I have to go,” he mutters, stepping around me towards the door.
***
“Clark, please! I will do everything I can to kill the story---but if Perry insists on publishing it---“ I take a deep breath. I know how this will sound, but I think it could be the only option—and the only chance I may have of seeing him again. “I can tell your story how you want it to be told, Clark. I’m sorry to have—betrayed you like this, but please, if it goes to print, let me help.”
“Right, so you can go win your Pulitzer?” he says sarcastically, cutting me to the quick. “I’m sorry, Lois, but it’s over. Whatever it was… Good-bye,” Clark, full of hurt, moves to the door as he speaks, slamming it behind him.
I crumple to the floor, feeling more devastated than I have at any point in my life. I blew it, in so many ways. Clark could have been The One, and I was too blinded by my own pain and circumstance to see it.
And I may have just lost him forever.
And now, Part 8:
Tears stream down my face as I struggle to stand up, shaken. I walk over to the phone, my nerves making my struggle with the dialing codes and Italian operators worse than normal, but at last I make a connection through to the Planet.
“It’s Lois Lane. I need to speak to Perry White immediately!” I say forcefully, wiping the tears off my cheeks with a tissue.
I’m put on hold for a moment, but then the connection is lost. In frustration I slam down the phone again and redial, with a little more success this time.
“I was disconnected. Lois Lane for Perry White. Please hurry!” I say to the Daily Planet operator in near panic. All I can think of is Clark leaving, to go God knows where, never to be seen or heard from again. At least not by me. I’ve lost him! I’ve lost him forever!
“Lois?”
“Hi, Perry. Yes, it’s me. Did you just get my article?” I ask frantically, hearing the strain in my voice.
“I sure did, but Lois, honey, it’s a little far-fetched don’t you think? I mean, I know you were almost in a plane crash, and we heard about the fire in the metro. These incidents obviously happened—They have even baffled experts on both sides of the ocean… But Lois, I simply can’t print it as is.”
Relief fills me and I close my eyes, blessing Perry for having a cool head. I guess it’s true that he didn’t become editor of a major metropolitan newspaper because he can yodel. It takes me a moment to come back to the conversation as I struggle to calm down, and I ask Perry to repeat what he said.
“It could be a story---there’s obviously something going on over there, but Lois. I need more proof. Now, what have you got on this Kent fellow you’ve been writing with? You said something about a story there?”
I quickly gather my thoughts, as I have to make sure that no matter what, Perry does not make the connection between my story and Clark Kent. “It was nothing… just my overzealous reporter’s instincts kicking in,” I laugh nervously into the phone. Tears constrict my throat as I think of Clark. I have no idea if I’ll ever see him again. I almost mention Clark’s desire to someday work at the Planet to Perry, but my doubt of ever seeing him again stops me. I don’t know if he’d even accept an offer to work at the Planet now.
“Lois, from the first day you came into my office I knew you had a good nose for a story. Now you’ve got two leads that haven’t amounted to a hill of beans. Is everything all right?”
The concern I hear in Perry’s voice is almost my undoing. But I have to pull it together and let him know that I still have what it takes to be his top reporter. Lois Lane may be down, but she’s certainly not out.
“That jewel heist story I sent the other day--- I have a follow-up on that,” I say quickly, reminding him. I suddenly get a little excited again as I think back to the party. I was so distracted with Clark’s reaction to the rock that I had almost forgotten about Luthor! “Get this… I got into a party tonight and none other than Lex Luthor was the host! He’s peddling this green mineral he found as the next clean energy source. But I’m not so sure about how he wants to use it. He wanted it hush-hush, which seems a little suspicious to me.”
“Luthor, huh? Didn’t you tell me a few months ago you thought he might not be all that he appears?”
“Exactly… so… I will do a follow-up on that.”
“Sounds good. Keep me posted, Lois. And stay out of trouble!”
“Thanks, Chief,” I say affectionately and hang up the phone.
I sit quietly for a moment, thankful that I at least know that the story won’t go to print. But I still lost Clark. I don’t know if I’ll ever see him again, but at least his secret will be safe.
I sigh, looking out the window, up at the moonlit sky. An incredible loneliness sweeps over me as I realize I’m back to square one.
Only now, my heart isn’t just broken… it’s shattered.
*L**L*
I don’t know how long I sat on the floor wallowing in self-pity, but when I look up again I see that it’s almost one in the morning. I should feel some measure of relief that the story won’t go to print, only all I can picture is the hurt look on Clark’s face when he left the hotel.
I lie down in bed and close my eyes, and still see it. I had put the story before the man and even though I realized it, it was still too late to keep from losing him.
I turn over on my pillow, trying to get comfortable but it’s no use. I’m exhausted, but can’t fall asleep. All I can feel is the empty heartache, knowing that Clark is gone for good.
I glance at my clock and see it’s after 2 AM… I’ll never get any sleep now.
As I toss and turn in bed, my thoughts go back to the party this evening, and the rock that had hurt Clark. What exactly was Lex Luthor doing with it? And why would he want to use it for energy when it obviously has properties that affect some people? Granted, Clark is a special case, but still—that rock seems to have dangerous powers that can’t necessarily be good for the environment.
In frustration, I kick off the covers. I can’t do anything about getting Clark back, but maybe I can help him in some small way by somehow stopping Luthor from using that rock in his new pet project. It at least gives me something to do—and may keep me from going crazy over how to win Clark’s trust back… if I ever see him again.
I get dressed and head out into the quiet streets of Venice. The narrow alleys and passages are all well-lit, but oddly empty. I’m so used to Metropolis where there are always people in the streets at all hours of the day and night, that this emptiness creeps me out a bit. I don’t have Clark’s sense of direction, but luckily there are signs that point to the main streets and to the main canal. I decide to head to the Grand Canal, mainly so I can more easily find my way back to Luthor’s villa, but also to get out of the deserted streets.
A few blocks from the villa, I hear what sounds like a fistfight coming from straight ahead. I’d rather not venture into the lonely back streets of the city, so instead, I make my way closer to where they are fighting. I stick to the shadows so I won’t be seen or heard. Two men are standing in a small square, throwing punches at a third man. I mostly see only shadows, as there is only one streetlamp in the far corner of the square. I hope I can sneak by without them noticing me, so intent are they on pummeling their victim.
“Where’s Lois Lane? We know you were with her tonight,” I hear, and stop in my tracks. I back up into one corner the square, crouching by an ancient well, and focus all my attention on what’s going on. Cold realization knifes through me. They have Clark!
“Mr. Luthor doesn’t take kindly to reporters snooping around in his business. We want to know what she told you. If she prints what she saw tonight--” said the man ominously.
“I told you… I don’t know anything,” Clark says weakly and I feel surprise and gratitude that he is trying to protect me, especially after what I did.
The men punch him again, and I hope that Clark will somehow regain his strength quickly to fend them off. He throws a couple of good punches, but I wince as one fist locks with his jaw. I watch from the shadows, tempted to even up the odds in Clark’s favor a bit, but suddenly I see another figure step out of the shadows that stops me from making my presence known. It’s Lex Luthor. His green gemstone ring blinks wickedly in the yellow streetlight.
“Gentlemen, we’ll find Miss Lane. This one is obviously no more use to us. Get rid of him,” he says in a chilling voice that at once confirms my suspicions about the billionaire’s character.
Clark, who now is lying on his side, bleeding and out of breath, seems relieved they have stopped. Yet I see the two goons come up behind him a few seconds later with a rope and tie his hands behind his back and his feet. What are they going to do to him? I am prepared to follow wherever they take him, yet I watch in horror as the two goons lift Clark and swing him into the canal!
Clark’s name comes out of my mouth in a gasp. The goons quickly leave with Luthor and I rush to the side of the canal. The water is murky and God knows how deep, yet I can see air bubbles coming to the surface.
I look around, looking for something or someone to help. There is no one, and Clark’s only chance is me! I kick off my tennis shoes and squeeze my eyes shut, trying not to think of the scariness of diving in such stagnant city waters. Instead, I think of Clark, who has been selflessly saving people for who knows how long. I think of Clark, giving me the best kiss of my life after the opera. I think of how I’ve come to quickly rely on his companionship—and how quickly I shattered his trust with my story.
I dive in; the waters are much colder than I expected. I feel around in the dark, trying to locate him with my both my hands and feet. I can’t find him. I come back up for air in frustration and try to see if the lights of the city can help me out at all. Not seeing anything below the surface, I take another deep breath, thanking my parents for scuba lessons when I was fifteen. I dive back in, reaching as low as I can.
I open my eyes under water for a mere second, catching at last a glimpse of Clark’s white shirt. My lungs are burning for air, though I reach one inch further and grab onto his shirt. He’s heavy as a stone, but he seems cognizant as I feel his arm reach for my hand. I pull, and I feel him struggle. I can’t hold my breath any longer though, and quickly go up to the surface for more air.
He’s still down there, alive, and struggling! I take another breath, determined that I will get him in the next dive. He seems ready for me this time, as he grabs onto me when I reach him. But he pulls us both down lower. I start struggling, wondering what’s happening. But just as quickly, we’re rocketing to the surface, up and out of the water, and land, side by side on the sidewalk of the canal.
I cough water out of my lungs and turn to Clark. He’s lying on his back, his glasses gone, and his eyes closed. His hands are unbound, but his feet are still tied. I reach over and untie them, then move to check his vitals.
“Clark!” I cry fearfully, and roll him over to put my ear to his chest. My body feels heavy from the strain of diving in the cold waters, and I’m shivering, but I can’t worry about that yet. I need to make sure Clark is all right.
As I lean on his chest, I realize he’s not breathing! I put my ear to his chest, desperate to hear a heartbeat. I know he somehow jumped or flew us out of the water, so I know he’s alive, but I don’t know by how much. I start pumping on his chest, like I’ve seen medics do. I don’t have any actual CPR training, and I hope that whatever makes him super will help him survive me pounding on his chest. I plug his nose and blow into his mouth, resuming pumping on his chest at where I hope is the right spot. At last, he gasps and turns on his side, coughing up whatever water is in his lungs.
“Clark!” I say through tears, throwing my arms around him. “You made it!”
His arm comes around me and we both sit up, waterlogged, cold, and bedraggled. We look out at the dark canal for a long moment, contemplating what had just happened.
“You—you saved me, Lois,” he says with incredulity, his voice thick from the waters or tears. I can’t tell which.
“Of course I did. Clark, I’m so sorry--- I—“I can’t get out anything more coherent after that, as I suddenly fall into helpless sobs.“I never meant to—hurt you, Clark. I was so blind---
stupid--- Claude made me so angry—I—“ I went on and on, blubbering like a baby. But I had to pull myself together; he had to know that I had talked to Perry, that his secret wouldn’t be revealed.
“Clark—I killed the story. Or rather, Perry killed it,” I admit. “He said there wasn’t enough evidence in the article and he’s right. You don’t have to worry, Clark. No one will know about you, unless you want them to know. I’m so sorry… so sorry, Clark,” I say, my eyes grimy with the water from the canal and my own salty tears. It wasn’t until after I stopped talking that I realized Clark had managed to pull me into his arms at some point.
“It’s okay. It will be okay,” he murmurs in my ear, an undeserving balm to my betrayal.
We are quiet a moment, until Clark breaks the silence, his voice distant and sad, “I—almost let them kill me, Lois. Or at least I didn’t stop them from doing their worst,” he says and I look at him in shock.
“Why would you do such a thing?” I ask in horror, cupping his cheek to bring his face around to mine.
“I thought—it’s all over. My secret. I thought… that you didn’t really care about me. When they threw me in the canal and I got away from that ring Luthor wore, I finally thought of my parents. That’s when I started to try and get out of the ropes. I thought I had to get back to them and protect them from the fallout of your article… And then I would disappear…“ He turns to me, his eyes full of a cautious gratitude, “But it wasn’t until I saw you diving into those waters to save me that I began to hope again.”
I reach around and hug him again. “Look, I know we’ve only known each other a few days… but Clark—I wouldn’t dive into those icky waters for just anybody,” I say, my voice trembling between laughter and tears. “I am so sorry that I betrayed you. I did get caught up in my own story—but you”—I sigh, shaken by the emotion of the night. “You took my breath away and I just didn’t know how to handle it.”
My arms wrap around his neck and we lean in, forehead to forehead. “I don’t know where we go from here. But—can you give me a second chance?” I ask tentatively, looking into his soft brown eyes for any sign that he can forgive me.
He suddenly leans in further, and our lips meet. Passion and relief soar through my core, and I feel like I can’t get enough of him. Our kiss grows deeper and more ardent, as his fears and my insecurities melt away in the wave of a burgeoning love that washes over us. I realize how deep I’ve fallen for him—I’m terrified, yet I trust it, as I trust him. His arms wrap tighter around me, and my fingers feel the corded muscles of his neck, his whole being welcoming me home.
Clark manages to stand up, carrying me in his arms as he makes our way back to the hotel.
My tears continue to fall, as I feel my heart at last letting him in and acknowledging the things I did wrong. Despite my mistakes and despite his weakness, Clark is still strong enough to carry me—and all of my baggage.
And all I want is to help him carry his.
*L**L*
I start shivering the moment we step into the hotel. The waters were much colder than I had expected, though Clark seems to be doing fine.
We say little to each other on the way back, though I think an unspoken understanding lies between us now. I know he tried to protect me from Lex’s goons, and he knows that I risked my life to save his. It doesn’t make up for what I did, but I hope it’s a start, a bridge to earning back his trust.
I quietly excuse myself to the bathroom and take a hot shower. More tears spring to my eyes, and I’m not at all certain why. I guess I was so afraid I had lost Clark because of that stupid article, and then I almost really lost him! But he’s here, safe and sound, and I can only hope that he will let me help him now.
When I come back in the room, Clark passes by me with a small smile and goes to take his own shower. There is a tension in the room that feels unresolved, and I know Clark is still worried about something. I brush out my hair and put on my pajamas, waiting for him to return to the little room.
He comes in a few moments later, wearing sleep pants and a black t-shirt. My mouth waters just looking at him; he is a beautiful man, but I’m also learning he has a gracious heart. I sit down next to him on the bed and touch his shoulder. “What is it, Clark?”
“Lois, even though your article wasn’t printed—it’s still out there, in your editor’s hands. I read it, and though the trail doesn’t lead directly back to me,” he sighs heavily and I feel the burden of my actions weigh on my shoulders. “I just worry what would happen if the truth ever did get out. I worry about my parents. What would happen to them…”
“Why? Because they have a hero for a son?” I say encouragingly, still not understanding his desire to hide from the world. “Clark—I would think they would be proud of you, for stepping into the spotlight---“
He pulls away from me, and walks over to the window, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Lois, you don’t understand… I am not some government experiment—I—“ he looks at me expectantly, yet holds back. “I can’t tell you.”
I wince at this, wanting more than anything for him to trust me again. “Clark, I won’t say anything unless you want me to, I promise. Clark, I want to know about you, because I want to know you. Not for a story, just because—you’re the greatest guy I’ve ever met,” I say simply, my heart on my sleeve. He’s already exposed his weak points to me, the least I can do is try to be honest with him from here on out.
He runs his hand through his hair and glances at the clock.
“I can’t explain everything here, Lois… and not now… I feel better, like the effects of that rock may not be permanent, but—can you just let it all drop for now?”
He looks so tired and uncertain. I nod and make my way over to my side of the bed.
I get under the covers and turn to face him. His eyes watch me. I can see affection in them, but also wariness. I think he wants to believe in me, but I have hurt him. I’m exhausted and more tears come to my own eyes, so emotionally spent. Clark reaches to turn out the light and then quietly whispers, “Come here.”
I gladly move into his embrace, a situation that only a few hours ago I thought would be impossible. I don’t know what it is that draws us to each other, but it’s stronger than anything I’ve ever experienced. The hard-bitten reporter in me is mute with awe; she would have never expected this turn of events.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, barely even realizing I’m saying it until I feel the gentle squeeze of Clark’s arms in response.
I still feel so cold from the water, but I realize that I would do it again in a heartbeat if it meant having this moment with Clark. The feelings I have for him terrify me—because even though I trust him implicitly, I worry that he feels he might never be able to trust me again.
“You’re shivering, Lois,” he says with gentle alarm in my ear.
He rubs his hand up and down my arms, starting a different kind of shiver in my body. I sink deeper into his arms and I begin to feel a little warmer. There’s no demand from him, as I would expect from other men. There’s only comfortable rightness, a sense of peace, despite all of the questions and doubts between us. We lay like this for what seems forever, or maybe it is just for a moment.
But the security and consolation I find here, in Clark’s arms, I want to hold onto forever.
