Only in my dreams
Part 17
"Silence is the greatest enemy of a healthy relationship." Every inch of the lecturing man screamed psychologist. I couldn’t help but think that despite its end, I was going to prefer the dinner over this part of the program
The psychologist wore comfortable sandals. His curly mane had retreated to the back of his head and a pair of glasses sat low on his nose. Casually, he leaned back in his chair as if he had already spent his entire life behind patients on a couch. The guy whose name I couldn’t even remember barely looked at the little group of desperate couples. His eyes rested on the sheet of paper, which he had sheltered in his lap.
"Feelings must be expressed - anger as well as affection," he continued, raising his head enough to look around. The couples around us nodded obediently. "The basis of a good relationship is honesty." He paused as if to emphasize his words. "But don’t forget that honesty can hurt, too. A compliment should be heartfelt and don’t be too harsh in your criticism. Always ask yourself how you would want to hear the truth."
The sententious lecture of the psychologist went on, but I found it increasingly difficult to listen. My relationship to Clark had not gotten any easier since he had been honest with me. For months I had been in love with a liar. The mere thought caused me heartburn.
"C'mon, Clark. What's wrong?" I had tried to tease out an answer. My partner had leaned against the wall of the elevator with his eyes closed and had slightly swayed. "You look awful!" It had not been exaggerated. Clark had been deathly pale, his hands had trembled as he had clutched at the hand rail.
"Nothing, just a headache," he had muttered weakly. Shaking his head had caused him to grimace.
"I think I’ve got some asperin in my desk," I had offered, feeling pity. I had hardly ever seen Clark sick. But then he had looked pretty miserable.
"It's okay," Clark had replied. "I don’t think that will help."
"Trouble with Mayson?" I had asked and a rush of jealousy had filled me. It had been difficult to accept that Clark was dating Mayson. I had almost hoped that I had hit the bulls-eye.
It had taken a while before he had answered. His gaze had been absent and I had not been sure that he had actually heard me. But then he had nodded.
"Yeah, yesterday evening," he had replied and squinted his eyes as if the pain had increased. "I don’t know, I think I should go to her and apologize," he had added and pressed the button to the floor that was under the newsroom. Moments later we had reached the floor, the doors had opened up. "See you later, Lois," he had said before getting out. The elevator doors had closed behind him.
Shortly after that, Diana Stride had claimed that Clark was Superman. I had not believed her. Now I knew better. Had he really gone to Mayson then? Or had he lied about that as well?
Everyone around me stood up, moving their chairs. The lecture was obviously over. I felt Clark's hand first on my shoulder and then on my elbow. He urged me to get up and moved my chair into the right position. Then he guided me out of the room.
"Are you okay, Lois?" he asked anxiously.
"I have just realized how little honesty actually means to you," I fired back, without having actually been attacked.
"What?" He sounded confused.
"This was what the lecture was all about, wasn’t it? That we should be honest with each other?" I lashed out at him, at the same time wondering if the psychologist had actually been talking about that for the past half hour.
"Yes," Clark replied tensely. "And I apologized, Lois."
"Oh, really? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that everything was all right again!” My voice dripped with sarcasm. “You’re leaving me just like that and I am supposed to simply accept it because you apologized?”
Angrily I turned on my heels. My hands clenched into fists, while I desperately tried to hate him. That was the only way to endure all this. My fingers dug painfully deep into my palms, but that didn’t help much. My heart beat faster when I just thought about Clark. Why did he have such a power over me? The last dream hadn’t exactly helped to improve my situation.
"Mrs. White? A letter for you!" A voice roused me from my thoughts. A hotel employee was coming straight towards me. That was a good thing actually, because otherwise I might not have known that I was “Mrs. White”. Tardily, I remembered that we were undercover.
I stood there and stared at her confused. The hotel employee smiled broadly at me. Her hair was curly and blonde. She reminded me of Mayson Drake. Even her smile looked just as stilted. She looked past me, unobtrusively, but still. I knew she had only eyes for Clark. Perhaps I should warn her.
"Thanks," I said mechanically and attempted a smile, but in vain.
I took the letter, and the blonde woman hurried away with a quick goodbye. For a moment I watched her leave, before I examined the letter in my hand. There was no return address, no stamp, nothing to tell me who had sent this letter. Most likely, it was Perry. Who else knew we were here? This didn’t exactly fire my curiosity.
"Lois?" Clark said cautiously and took a step around me, so he could look at me.
I kept my eyes fixed on the letter and did not look up. The letter was a more than welcome option to punish Clark. I turned my back on Clark and focused my whole attention on opening the envelope. My heart pounded furiously against my chest, with each beat protesting against my flimsy pretence of ignoring Clark.
"Lois, please," Clark repeated, but I kept ignoring him and unfolded the paper. I tried hard to suppress the trembling of my fingers. How long could I go on like this?
Clark gave me the space I needed, which made it impossible for me to despise him. Why did he do this to me? Why did he not keep me from occupying myself with a letter instead of him? He should be fighting!
My mouth went dry when I unfolded the letter and scanned the message that was pieced together from cutouts of a newspaper. I recognized the words, some of them probably written by me. The Daily Planet had its own very distinctive font. The words blurred before my eyes while I broke out in cold sweat.
<Would you like to keep your little secret?> the dark letters read.
Nothing more, no demand, only this sentence. My fingers were numb. I felt at the verge of fainting. Apparently, I was not the only one who knew Clark's secret, not anymore. What else could they be talking about? We had been stupid. After all, we had known that some members of the hotel staff were blackmailing their customers.
"Lois, please, we need to talk." Clark's strong hands dug into my shoulders and he made me look into his face again.
I just shook my head. Stunned, I thought of the implied threat in my hands. But my lips were not moving. Hastily I scrunched up the letter. It happened so fast that I could not say for sure whether it was conscious reasoning or instinct. The letter seemed to burn my fingers. But I could not show it to Clark.
"I understand that you're angry, Lois," Clark tried to soothe me.
"Oh yeah?" I cried out. "Do you really know what is going on inside me?" I almost shouted. Clark winced. "How could you ever really understand?" I replied tartly. The threatening letter was still in my hands and all of a sudden felt unnaturally cold. Or were it my fingers? I had to tell Clark! He had to know what was at stake.
"Maybe you're right," Clark muttered ruefully. "Please, let’s not discuss this here," he pleaded and gently ushered me out of the hall. I let it happen.
"Why have you never told me? Did you have so little faith in me, Clark?" I said past the thick lump in my throat. If Clark had been honest with me, we wouldn’t be in this mess. I was about to tell him exactly that - the words were already on the tip of my tongue. But I swallowed them. I could not confront Clark like this without showing him the ransom note. "Why have you never told me?" I repeated exhausted.
Clark just looked at me. A wrinkle appeared on his forehead and his lips curved into a sad expression. He shook his head almost imperceptibly. It was not much that he offered me. But the realization hit me like a blow.
"That’s not what this is all about!" I gasped and tried in vain to keep my composure.
"Please, Lois, not here!" Clark's eyes were wide with horror.
"There's something else that you're not telling me!" That was something I hadn’t even considered. I had been too busy fussing about Clark being Superman. Not once had it come to my mind that his distance had had nothing to do with that.
"Please not here," Clark repeated pleadingly.
He grabbed my elbow and gently pulled me with him out of the hotel lobby. His steps were large and he gave me little opportunity to keep up with him. Confused, I stumbled after him. The tortured expression on his face made me nervous. I could see the beads of sweat on his forehead. My stomach clenched painfully and my heart pounded with fear.
Suddenly we were in front of the elevators. I could see in my partner’s face that he would rather have taken the stairs. Restless, he shifted from one foot to the other. When we finally heard the elevator, he sighed with relief and almost dragged me into the box. He was so tense that his lips had grown thin and his face was ashen.
"Clark ..." I whispered breathlessly and without knowing what to say. I tasted bile and tried to suppress the nausea, that was building up in my stomach.
"Lois ..." Clark echoed and lips grew even thinner. He breathed deeply and apparently gathered all his courage before he spoke again. "You're right, I didn’t tell you everything. I wanted to, yesterday. But then it was a lot easier to conceal it. "
"What do you mean ‘easier’?" My voice cracked. "Why would it be easier lying to me?" I couldn’t get rid of the bitter taste in my mouth.
"The truth ... well, I’m afraid you would misinterprete the truth," he said mysteriously and then withdrew into a corner of the elevator, as if this would offer him a way to escape this conversation.
I wondered why he wasn’t already gone. Why did he make this so hard on himself when he could run off pretending that Superman was needed? Why didn’t he spare us this conversation and simply disappear? The mere thought only served to increase my nausea. What was Clark doing to me?
As the elevator reached the right floor, I was hurled out of my thoughts. Clark pushed himself off the wall as the doors slid open. I hurried to follow him down the hallway to the bedroom door, where I would finally learn the truth.
I just was not so sure anymore whether I actually wanted to know it. As impatient as I had been up to this point, now my feet seemed to stick to the carpet. Part of me wanted to remain outside, ignorant and able to dream of a happy end. I broke out in cold sweat. The hallway seemed to blur before my eyes.
While I was here, I still had hope. When I walked through that door, that could very well change for good. Beyond this door was potentially a life which I no longer wanted to spend with Clark. Was the truth really worth this kind of pain?
I swallowed and watched as Clark put the key card into the lock. A red light flashed, followed by a silent curse. Again he took the card and put it into the slot. About one second it was dubious whether the lock would open. It was a wonderful second, in which everything seemed possible. Then a green light flashed...
Stunned with fear, I entered the room as Clark held the door for me. After just two steps whatever had been left of my courage was gone. I was ready to storm out of the room. Why should I endure even more pain? Clark could take a running jump for all I cared. I really could do without him. I had never really needed that hack. After all, I was Mad Dog Lane.
My tongue remained motionless, just like my legs. As a meek lamb I stood in the doorway until I felt his hand on my back. He gently pushed me forward, on and on. The door slammed shut behind me. We were alone. My heart was pounding like a steam hammer.
"The truth ...," Clark muttered in a hoarse voice, and tentatively walked past me towards the window. He looked out and then turned to face me. He leaned on the windowsill and rested his head against the glass. "Do you remember Jason Trask and Bureau 39?" he finally asked, clenching his fists so hard that his knuckles turned white.
I nodded, although I did not quite understand where this was going. "How could I forget him?" I said with a shudder and took a step towards Clark. I wanted to shake him and make him spill the truth without stalling. "Why are we talking about him, Clark?" I asked impatiently, but kept my hands still. He did not back away, probably because he had his back up against the wall.
"When we were in their secret warehouse, I found something. A globe that represented Earth and as soon as I had touched it – Krypton." Clark grimaced. He took a step towards me. It had been long since he had voluntarily come that close to me. Well, that was not quite right... I saw the sad look in his eyes, the look that now belonged to his face like the glasses and that stubborn lock of hair. A harsh remark died on my open lips.
"Later, someone stole the globe." He went on. "It contained messages for..." he paused briefly, as if he was not sure what to say next. "...me."
"That’s what this is all about? Those messages?" I asked incredulously, trying to imagine what kind of truth he was going to confess. "Don’t tell me you’re destroying our friendship because of a message in a globe!" My voice cracked with anger. I felt tears in my eyes and blinked them away. I helplessly started to hammer my fists down onto his chest. There was a finality to his words that scared the hell out of me. "What kind of reason is that?" I gasped, while Clark gently grabbed my wrists to keep me from hurting myself.
"I learned where I came from and who my real parents were," Clark said with an almost eerie calm. "It gave me answers to the all the questions that had been on my mind for so long," Clark continued. "My father Jor-El had chosen this planet, because I could grow up among people like one of them. There is no significant difference in our physiology …" Clark fell silent and I saw him swallow.
He took another step towards me and I held my breath as he loosened his grip around my wrists and gently covered my face. His thumb stroked along my mouth and brushed my lips. Then he leaned forward and placed a kiss on my mouth. It was barely perceptible, yet I was electrified.
"... except for one restriction," he finally said, his words barely more than a whisper. "A Kryptonian man can never be with a woman from Earth. He would kill her." He stared at his feet. Then he released me and turned away, putting his hands in his pockets.
I stared at him and tried to understand what he had just told me. Actually, I was none the wiser. Stunned, I stood before him and watched Clark as he started pacing the hotel room Again and again he glanced at me, ever so briefly. Each time our eyes locked, he immediately averted his gaze, embarrassed.
"I tried to convince myself that it didn’t matter. After all I was more than happy being your friend. I couldn’t wish for more, now could I?" he went on softly and stopped for a moment. He looked at me and shrugged. "My whole life I had known I was different and I coped. So why not this time...But I want more, Lois.”
The tone of his voice and the look in his eyes conveyed all the feelings that I myself had desperately tried to hide from him for the past weeks. My mouth had gone dry and my tongue stuck to the palate. There was nothing I could possibly say.
"Suddenly, all I’m thinking about is what my being different means for our relationship. Ever since I met you I’ve dreamt that one day maybe we would be more than just friends. But that is impossible," he added almost rudely. "Look, Lois, I've tried. I’ve tried really hard to make this work – but I don’t see how I can."
With a jerk he turned back to the window and stared outside. The repulsive aura he had gradually built up during the past months was back in place. It was squelching my impulse to try and comfort him. I was still dumbfounded. Whatever I might have been expecting to hear – certainly not this.
"You mean ..." I gasped, not sure if I had actually drawn the right conclusion.
"I cannot sleep with you, Lois," Clark said unequivocally. "Please don’t believe that my attraction to you is just a physical one. I am in love with you and making love to you is just one aspect of the relationship I had in mind, but..." He took a deep breath and lapsed into silence, not willing to complete the sentence.
He did not have to. Just because the idea was taboo, it automatically became quite dominant. I had been down the same road. Hard as I had tried not to think about Clark or imagine what could be, Clark had been with me all the time. In the morning, in the evening and even at night.
All of a sudden he was with me, reached for my hand and led me to the sofa. Clark had slept on it and it still seemed to smell like him. He gently pulled me with him as he sat down beside me.
"In my dreams I often came to visit you at night, sat down on your bed and kissed you. Sometimes we got beyond that point," he breathed deeply and paused. I could not but remember my own erotic fantasies. My heart started to pound when I felt his breath on my skin. I was as close to Clark as I had been in my dreams.
"Many nights I lie awake because I'm afraid to lose myself in these dreams," Clark confessed after a while, and his voice sounded tortured as he continued. Only the loving expression in his eyes softened the hurtful tone."I keep praying that you get out of my dreams. But I just cannot break this last bond.”
I listened to him and had the strange feeling that he was voicing my thoughts exactly. I had been having the same dreams for weeks. Clark sat down on my bed and so often he had seemed to be about to confess something. Could it be ...? My breath quickened involuntarily. The very thought was preposterous. How could Clark and I share our dreams?
"Do you understand now why I have to leave, Lois?" Clark asked quietly. His expression was stoic, almost impenetrable. But I knew that a hurricane must be raging inside him - just as it was raging in me.
No, I did not understand why he had to go. I wanted to scream at him and shake him and force him to love me. I could not let a globe destroy my life. We had just found each other!
I gulped. "We could find a solution, Clark," I choked out. My words sounded hollow. How could there be a solution? Hadn’t Clark already tried to find one? And I had called him a traitor, in my thoughts anyway. My stomach was tied in knots.
"I've tried, Lois," Clark said and with a jolt raised to his feet. The sofa shook at the sudden loss of weight, showing what strength Clark hid from the rest of the world. "I kept weighing every option, desperately trying to figure a way out of this mess. First, I was your friend, then I tried to keep my distance from you. Good grief, I've even started a relationship with Mayson in order to drive you away from me." Shame was written on his face.
"But Clark ..." I pleaded, not knowing what there was left to say or do. He had not loved Mayson. The relief mingled with the bitter taste of pity for her. Even Mayson didn’t deserve to be treated like that. But I did not want to think about her. My mind raced as I tried to think of a way that Clark had missed.
"There's no use, Lois," he summarized the result of my consideration. "I cannot go on like this,” he said desperately. "Please forgive me.” The window flew open. A gust of wind swept through the room and then, Clark was gone.
to be continued...
