part 6
***Metropolis
“I’m sorry,” Lane said quietly from where she was still crouched next to him on the stairway. “About everything, Clark. About you and Lois and the baby. And that I tried to fool you when you came home.”
“What was that about?” he asked evenly after a pause, still avoiding her seeking gaze.
“I wanted to see if what…my Clark said was true. That he could tell the difference. That there is a difference.”
He did look at her then. “So, did I pass?” he asked curiously, with no rancor. “Are you satisfied?”
“Completely,” she asserted. “And I’m sorry to put you through that just to put this one nagging little doubt to rest.”
“I can’t say as I blame you,” he answered, moving at last from their perch on the stairs.
He offered her a hand up, studying her closely.
“I see the difference,” he whispered finally.
“So do I,” she smiled sadly.
“Well, we’ve cleared that up, and believe me, I can see how that would nag at you. I’ve had the same thought from time to time.”
“Clark Kent,” she declared. “I’ve decided I like you.”
“Well-” He smiled. “-so, we’ll start there.”
“Do you want me to…tell you about it, about Tempus and the switch, and Lois?” she asked somewhat hesitantly.
“Did you see her?” he rasped, his hand dropped away from hers and the sudden, naked emotion in his voice tore at her.
“I did. We were in the same place for a brief time. You would have been proud…”
“Was she very…afraid?” he stammered quickly. “She’s had nightmares about Tempus ever since she got back. I know this was her…absolute worst fear.” He paused, as if slightly winded.
“If she was afraid,” Lane told him firmly, “there was no sign of it. She made him work for it. She was…great.”
“Then she’s ok,” he croaked. “If she stood up to him, if she’s back with her…your Clark, then whatever else happens, or doesn’t, Lois is ok. She’ll be ok.”
“She’s ok, Clark.” Lane echoed, putting a hesitant hand on his arm.
He surprised her. She had touched him half expecting him to pull away, to be annoyed by the intrusion of a perfect stranger. Instead, he gathered her into his embrace. His body was shaking, and she could feel his tears falling into her hair, though he made no sound. Lane slowly lifted her arms and wrapped them as far around him as she could, clinging tightly. It might come as a surprise to some people, but this was something she could do. She never had with her own Clark. If she’d held him like this, if he’d ever come to her for comfort like this, she would have wondered who he was really seeking, her or his wife. But this Clark Kent was in the throes of some familiar enemies. Fear was something she understood all too well. And loneliness. Despair. Of the two of them left standing here, he had definitely lost more. And more than once. If he needed a friend, she could be that. Starting now.
“We’ll figure this out,” she said soothingly. “You and I will figure this out.”
“Do you mind if I hold you a while longer?” he asked thickly. “I know you’re not her, but…”
“Hang on to me, Clark,” she responded. “As long as you need.”
***
That first night Lane had a nightmare. Clark found himself seated on the bed beside her before he could think about how awkward it might be for both of them.
He had insisted she take his and Lois’ room. He didn’t want to sleep in it, he’d assured her. He’d be just as comfortable in the guest room. It had been on the tip of his tongue to call it the nursery, until he realized it might never be that.
Clark had shut down that thought immediately. It was too soon to be thinking that way. Things were different now. He knew where Lois was. And Lois knew that he knew. They were still just as separated as they had been the first time. But if they had overcome it once, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility they might do so again. He just didn’t know how.
He hadn’t been sleeping when Lane called out. He’d been letting the television’s endless stream of images lull him into a sort of numbness. He was upstairs before she could cry again, grateful for the distraction.
“Lane,” he whispered soothingly. He was surprised by how calm he sounded, how confident. But then, he had a great deal of experience waking Lois from her nightmares.
“Lane,” he cleared his throat against the sudden thickness that had come. “Wake up. It’s…Clark.” Well, that wouldn’t necessarily help her, would it? He tried again. “You’re safe.” That much was true. She was safe. In an entirely different universe, but with no immediate threats in the offing. That kind of safe.
Lane opened her eyes and looked at him for a full minute.
“You’re a nice guy,” she finally offered shakily.
“If I have to hear that from one more beautiful woman…” he teased her softly.
Lane sat up and fumbled for the bedside lamp. He found it for her, introducing the light into the room. The small yellow pool it cast around them was even more intimate than the darkness.
“We’re a pair, aren’t we?” she smiled weakly.
“How are you feeling?” he asked. “You’ve been sleeping pretty much since you got here.”
“Better, I think,” she replied after a time. “Hungry, actually. Do you…cook?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “He and I are…alike that way. And I’d be glad to fix you something. Keep me busy. I’m…trying not to lose my mind downstairs.”
“I take it you’re not sleeping,” she commented dryly.
“One of us had to stand guard.” He shrugged. “Against the nightmares.”
“My turn then,” she agreed.
“So, you’ll come downstairs?” He was up and putting a polite distance between them.
“I dreamed about Tempus,” she spoke to his back. “I dreamed he was…here.”
“Lane…” He turned back to her tentatively. “Could you…describe him to me? Physically, I mean. I always wanted to ask Lois. It just seemed like it made sense, you know. If she was so afraid he was coming back, and I didn’t even know what he looked like, I might have walked right past him…” His voice trailed off on that thought. “Maybe he was in the lobby today, or on the sidewalk, or maybe he delivered the mail....Would it bother you?” he continued in a rush. “Could we sketch him?”
She was up and out of the bed in a flash. “That’s brilliant,” she exclaimed. “Let’s do it now, he’s fresh in my mind and…I can tell you about how tall and…and…” She was darting around the room. “And have you seen my slippers?” she asked. “I was wearing them when I came.” She stopped suddenly, standing up fully, her faced flushed.
“I was wearing my slippers when I time traveled,” she pronounced gravely. “I, Lois Lane, jumped universes in my pajamas. That has to make me some kind of…pioneer.”
She turned disbelieving eyes to his.
“Just imagine, Lane, what you might have done fully dressed,” he answered her.
“I swear I am going to like you,” Lane declared. “Now, if you’ll use that trusty x-ray vision and find my slippers, I’ll describe Tempus to you.”
“Bossy, just like every Lois Lane I ever met,” he told her. To humor her he made a show of lowering his glasses, studying the bedroom floor, underneath the bed, under the covers. “Negative on the slippers thus far,” he informed her seriously. “You’re sure they made it to the parallel universe? Didn’t fall off in…” He stopped cold. Swallowed hard. Looked again.
“What?” Lane was beside him, her rifling of the covers ceased. “What is it?”
“The gun,” he choked out. “It’s…under the dresser. It’s loaded and the safety is off.”
“That’s what was missing from the box,” Lane stated. “That’s what you meant by ‘she tried.’”
“I don’t remember saying that out loud,” he sighed. “Her prints are on it. Only hers.”
Lane moved to retrieve it. “I’ll put it back in the box, Clark,” she said soothingly. And then almost to herself, “Though I can’t imagine what good that does you. I just…can’t think of anything else I might do to make you feel…less than completely suicidal or homicidal or…something.”
She sat back down on the bed and watched him. “You aren’t moving,” she offered after a time.
“Sorry, ok…” Clark breathed deeply in and out a few times, just to show that he could. “Come downstairs. I’ll fix us some, well, breakfast now, and we’ll do that sketch.”
“I’m with you,” Lane replied.
***Metropolis2
Lois prowled the apartment aimlessly. She flipped on the all-news radio station to learn that Superman had arrived on the scene and things, though improved, might take a while to settle down. She had promised Clark not to leave. That had been easy. She couldn’t think of one place she wanted to go. It just felt…strange to be here again. And strange, too, to just do nothing on a day when everything had changed.
She toured the bedroom, pretending not to be noticing the other Lois’ belongings. After a while, after a certain amount of boredom had set in, she stopped acting like she wasn’t snooping, and got down to some serious searching. You could learn a lot about a person from their dresser drawers, from their closet.
Lois had the uncomfortable thought that Lane could very well be doing the very thing she was at this moment. Prying. Trying to uncover deep truths, to read in her lingerie drawer the inner workings of her mind and heart.
From the set-up it was clear Lane and Clark didn’t share the bedroom. She hadn’t come right out and asked him that. And he hadn’t volunteered anything. And she was surprised to find so many of her own things here and there, tucked around the apartment.
In the bottom of Clark’s closet she found boxes full of her belongings. Clothing and photographs, story notes, odd and ends. All bearing witness that Lois Lane had lived here. That she had married here. Maybe even…started a family here.
Lois was removing tissue paper from a silver frame before she realized what she was uncovering. Her wedding picture, their wedding picture as it had appeared in the Planet, ‘Lane and Kent Cement Partnership.’
She dropped it back into the box hurriedly; backing away from it like it was some kind of rabid animal. As if it might leap out and devour her. Or at the very least, force her to look at it again.
Not content to just have it back in the box, Lois moved quickly out of the bedroom, away from the picture, away from the past. She was shaking in a way that she hadn’t before, even when she’d found Tempus in her home.
Delayed shock, maybe. Or dimension-travel after effects. How well she remembered those. The sweaty palms, pounding heart, blinding terror. Almost paralyzing, really. Very much like her fear of Tempus…
Lois lowered herself into the kitchen chair. She remembered something about how you should put your head between your knees at moments like this. How that could help she couldn’t imagine. Or wait…maybe she should she breathe into a paper bag? Is that what got the crippling elephant of fear off one’s chest? She laid her head on her knees and closed her eyes tightly, wrapping her arms around her legs. Afraid. So afraid. And not of Tempus. Not of Tempus at all…but something so much worse. Of how she had hurt Clark.
She knew from the glance at her wedding photograph. Though it had been quick, it had been enough…to see the joy in this Clark’s face and the contentment in her own. She had been happy here. She had.
How could she have done such a thing to the man she loved?
Lois rocked back and forth slowly, letting herself remember the life she had built here. The bed she had slept in. The man she had slept with. She remembered how she had spent her year away from Clark. And that she’d never, ever asked him how he’d spent his.
She hadn’t wanted to know, and he had offered very few details to her. No doubt aware that that fell into the category of subjects she didn’t want to discuss. But she had gotten his perspective from other sources. From Perry, his parents, Jimmy, who had been a real friend to him. Even Lucy, who swore they had adopted each other as siblings while she was away. Clark had mentioned once that he had looked for her daily. He had said it in an off-hand way, but it had stabbed her to the core.
He had looked for her each day. Her absence was so complete from him, but he had tried over and over without ever getting a clue, a lead, anything worth hoping for. And she had…married.
That was really the bottom line. She had managed to rebuild her life. And Clark had, as well. Only his rebuilding hadn’t included a wife, or even a girlfriend. It had been an exercise in living without her, making his life purposeful without her. She had…married. And now, there was a baby. The only way to possibly hurt him more.
This was why she had so much trouble talking to her Clark about any of this, about the reality of the months she spent here. Because she had been reasonably happy after a time. Though she had grieved his loss, and the loss of everything she’d ever known, she had still managed to make a life for herself. A life in which she was featured as a smiling bride on the front page of the Daily Planet.
It hadn’t been only her fear of Tempus that had paralyzed her. It had been the fear that, despite everything that had happened to her, the deepest scars of the ordeal were on Clark. And that she had put them there. So she held herself back from him. Kept a part of herself locked into a hard, cold ball that wouldn’t dissolve for anything, that couldn’t relax into his love. Couldn’t accept the offerings of his loyalty, his graceful acceptance of what she’d done, and his utter forgiveness, so complete it would never occur to him to be asked for it. She had hurt him so deeply. She was hurting him still. And she didn’t know how to live with that.
The guilt had been suffocating her. Suffocating them. Ever present, and yet she hadn’t even realized it was there. She had to get home. She had to. She couldn’t imagine a life apart from him now, not after the time they’d spent together. Not when she knew what it was like to belong to him.
And so much time had already been wasted.
The radio told her that Superman seemed to have completed his work and things were much improved.
Lois moved to uncoil herself from where she was huddled tightly. As she did, a square black object caught her eye. It was wedged under the refrigerator. It was unmistakable. It was the device that controlled the window. It was broken into pieces.
***Metropolis
“So that’s him,” Clark commented quietly, holding up their completed sketch of Tempus.
“That’s him, exactly,” Lane responded with a hard light in her eyes. “I wish I’d known what he looked like, Clark, before…. Maybe I wouldn’t have just stood there and gawked at him when he appeared in my kitchen. It was early…” her voice trailed away. “I hadn’t finished my coffee.”
“He’s dangerous, Lane,” Clark soothed her. “You might have gotten hurt if you’d tried anything other than cooperating.”
“Lois sure didn’t care about that,” Lane sighed. “She was up and grabbing at him even as the window closed. She wanted me to help, and I just…stood there. Useless.”
“You aren’t useless to me,” he said softly. “If you weren’t here right now, I wouldn’t know any of this. I can’t imagine what I would be doing.”
For a time they both gazed at Tempus’ face, committing him to memory, registering the cold look in his eyes, offset by the cavalier, almost friendly smile that seemed to leap off the page.
“You know, he doesn’t look so scary,” Lane said at last. “Like if you saw him on the street….Did you, Clark? Is he familiar at all?”
“No.”
“Well, if you saw him on the street, if I saw him, there wouldn’t be one thing about him that would make me cross to the other side, to watch my back. He looks…harmless.”
“That’s the worst thing about monsters like Tempus,” Clark said. “They don’t look the part. If they did, we’d all know to be on our guard.”
“Does this do us any good, you think?” Lane moved from the kitchen table, opening and closing various cabinets and drawers. Clark recognized that she wasn’t really looking for anything in particular. She was just moving. Which meant, if his Lois Lane experience counted for anything here, that she was about to cut to the heart of the matter. He waited.
“We have a face for the name,” she finally said. “But it isn’t like he…lives here. You know? Maybe this little artistic exercise made us feel like we were doing something, but where, if anywhere, do we go from here?”
She was looking out the window into the garden, the sky was lightening and the long night was over. But for the two inhabitants of the brownstone it was still very, very dark.
“I almost resent the sunrise,” she said, reading his mind.
“You’re the one who said we should work on this from our side. Like they will from theirs. Maybe the four of us working together…” He wasn’t sure he believed it would do any good, but he needed to dispel the bleakness that covered the room.
“Do you think they’ll work on it, Clark?” She didn’t move from her spot. Didn’t turn to look at him. “Do you think they’ll want to?”
He didn’t answer for a long, long time. He got up and refilled their coffee cups, stopping to offer her a brief squeeze on the shoulder before returning to his chair.
She finally turned. He thought she might be searching for anger in his gaze. Or for signs of the broken man he’d been when he’d first realized the switch had been made.
“How are you holding up?” she blurted. “I mean…I know how you’re holding up, but what’s it been like for you, on this side? And now with…the baby?”
“How do you think he’ll react to the baby?” he answered her questions with his own. “Will he…want her to stay?”
“He keeps her things boxed away like old treasures,” she said sadly. “He says he can’t just throw them out. He…misses her, I know. Seems their style of working and…other things was a bit less…combative.”
“How are things with the two of you?” he asked.
“Weird.”
“That about sums up things here, too. But it’s not all bad, Lane. We’ve been…more intimate with each other in ways I could never imagine before.” He looked away, aware of the blush that was creeping up his neck. “And that’s not how it sounds.”
“Go on,” she prompted, pulling the chair back out and resting her elbows on the table. “Because I think I know what you mean.”
“We have this common tie. This bond. I don’t know if it’s a good one, but it comes from being separated before and being afraid that this very thing might happen. And from knowing things about each other than no one else in this universe does. She knows me. Every last bit of me. And…she loves me. We just can’t seem to…get it together.”
“You’re not happy.” It wasn’t a question, and it hit so close to the mark he felt it was a betrayal of Lois.
“No,” he said. “No,” he said again, a bit more firmly. “We’re not happy. Not really. Lois is…scared and I’m…confused.”
“You know something strange?” She waited until he looked at her. “I mean stranger than all of this other stuff? I think of the four of us, my Clark is the happiest. It doesn’t make sense. He falls in love with this woman from nowhere. He marries her. She leaves him and is replaced by a…grumpier, harder version of her, and he still seems…serene. I don’t get that!”
“I get it,” he smiled.
“Enlighten me, Clark Kent. If I can’t take advantage of your Clark Kentness to get some answers then this visit is a waste of my time!” She glowered at him.
“He loves you,” he said simply. “You’re his Lois.”
“Is it that simple, really?” she asked caustically. “Because from where I sit it feels anything but simple.”
“It is and it isn’t.”
“I hate answers like that,” she groaned.
“He loves you. I love her. She loves me. And you…?”
“Watch it,” she warned. “I do not…love…him. I…like him…a small amount.”
He laughed so hard tears came into his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he finally faltered. “But this is just like time travel, like going back and asking my Lois what she thinks of the Farmboy she’s been forced to work with.” He wiped his eyes and chuckled softly. “I like him a ‘small amount,’ he repeated under his breath.”
“I’m so glad I could amuse you,” she said with no venom.
“So, I’m thinking we’ll change the subject now,” he declared wisely. “About today. Lois went home sick yesterday afternoon. I could call Perry, tell him she still feels bad and that I’m staying home with her. That buys us some time.”
“Time for what?”
“Time to…um…hm.”
“Exactly,” she agreed. “Let’s go to work. I’ll be so good at being this Lois Lane no one will know. Believe me I’ve had the practice. And this will keep us from climbing the walls. And maybe…you could fly us in? I mean, I’ve gotten kind of used to that, and other than coffee, it’s the best eye-opener.”
“We could find you something to wear,” he said, warming to the idea despite his misgivings.
“Do you mind? If I use her things? That I’ll be seen as her?”
“No,” he said, though he did mind a little. He’d just have to get over it. “I don’t, Lane.”
“I was thinking we could put Tempus’ picture in the paper? Say he’s a missing source with valuable information. It’s true,” she defended herself at his raised eyebrows. “Just in case he’s still here….”
“That hardly seems likely,” he answered. “Though I guess it wouldn’t hurt.”
“Hang on…” Lane sat back with a thump in her chair, her demeanor changing completely. “Hang on…I’m remembering…something.” She sat like a stone for some time, staring right through him at something he couldn’t see. “Just the idea that he might still be here? That seems… somehow…I…I remember…”
He wanted to leap across the table and pull it out of her. Grab her by the shoulders and shake it loose, whatever it was. There was a glimmering lift inside him, a growing sense of hope that he did his very best to squash. Because it didn’t make any sense that it would be there.
<Calm down. It could be anything. It’s probably nothing.>
“He left by the door,” she said finally, a note of wonder in her voice.
<It is nothing. He left by the door. So?>
“Ok,” he answered her evenly.
“No, Clark!” She was up on her feet again and dashing into the living room. “I was here!” She pointed to the floor in front of the fireplace. “And he walked all around the room, over and over. I don’t know how long. I was kind of out of it. But he was walking…” Lane started circling. “And cursing…looking for something!” She snapped her fingers at him. “And he left this way.” She moved to the foyer. “Slammed the door so hard it hurt my head.”
She was beaming at him. Her look so eerily familiar it was hard to watch it. Lois’ ‘eureka’ face. Who had seen that more than he had? Despite his skepticism, he felt his excitement growing. When she got in this mode, Lois, his Lois, and evidently Lane as well, almost never missed the mark.
“He’s still here,” he supplied, knowing that was exactly what she wanted him to say. No prevaricating. No ‘maybes’ or ‘possiblys’. Nothing less than certainty. “Something went wrong,” he added for good measure, because his Lois would expect no less of him.
“He’s still here,” Lane echoed with complete conviction. “Maybe Lois…broke the window when she tried to jump in and grab him.”
“That’s not necessarily good news, Lane.” He sat down quickly on the sofa. “If the window’s broken, even if we catch Tempus, then what?”
“I don’t know,” she answered in a small voice, her very posture melting from elation to defeat. “I really don’t.”
“Well, let’s find Tempus,” he offered, an exchange for having deflated her so thoroughly. “Let’s find him and see what he has to say.”
tbc...
