Previously On Specimen S:
Clark feebly attempted to shoo the paramedics away. "I'll be fine," he said, his voice almost a sigh. "I just need food, rest, and sunshine."
"Sir, we have to take you in to the hospital," one of the women said. Lois could see the name of Canton printed on her lapel pin.
"No," Clark said, shaking his head a little.
"Sir, please. You're in really bad shape. We need to get you some help."
"Can't go," Clark said, pleading with Lois. His eyes were as big as saucers.
"CK, don't do this. Don't try to act the part of the tough guy," Jimmy implored his friend. "You need help and these people can give it to you."
Lois was torn. She knew that if Clark was taken to the hospital, his secret would be out. Though his powers were currently gone, there was no telling when they might kick back in. And even if they were absent for his entire hospital stay, no one really knew how differently Clark's body worked from regular humans. Except for Jenson, that was. And he was dead.
And yet, as much as she wanted to agree with Clark that going to the hospital was a bad idea, she was too scared for his health. What if his condition only got worse? What could they do for him back at his apartment? Surely a hospital full of doctors and nurses could find some way to ensure that Clark recovered from his nightmarish ordeal.
Lois opened her mouth to speak, unsure of exactly what she was going to say. For a few seconds, she merely gaped, speechless. When the words came, they surprised her.
"Clark, would you go if we were able to hand-select your doctor? Like say, Dr. Klein, for instance?"
Clark understood Lois' hidden meaning. He nodded. "Dr. Klein would be perfect."
"From S.T.A.R. Labs?" Canton asked. Then, looking at the determined faces of Lois and Clark, she shrugged. "Lockwood, put in a call to have Bernard Klein meet us at Metropolis General."
Clark sighed in relief, as did Lois. They had had a fair amount of dealings with Dr. Klein in their investigations. As a result, they had gotten to know the man quite well. They knew him to be trustworthy and more than capable of keeping secrets for them. They both considered him a friend, and knew that he felt the same toward them. If there was one person to trust Clark's unique health to, it was Bernard Klein.
"Lois," Clark said, as he tried to aid the paramedics into getting him onto a stretcher. He failed as his limbs gave way beneath him. "Take the box. Dr. Klein will know what to do with it."
Henderson shook his head. "I can't allow that, Clark," he said, sounding apologetic.
"Please, Bill. I'll explain later."
Henderson hesitantly nodded. "All right. But I will be the one to give it to him." Then he turned to everyone else in the room. "Okay folks, let's get these people out of here and get this crime scene processed."
Canton pulled a warm sheet over Clark's body, strapped him to the gurney, and began to wheel him out of the room. Jonathan and Martha refused the ones that awaited them, choosing instead to walk behind their son. Lois and Jimmy followed, the hall not being big enough to walk four abreast. Everyone was silent as they found the elevators that led to the surface, rode the car up, and exited the Metropolis Trade Tower.
It was still dark when they stepped out into the street. Lois caught the look of disappointment on Clark's face as he looked heavenward. She leaned down to whisper into his ear as the paramedics opened the back of the ambulance.
"Don't worry. The sun will be up in another hour or two. And I'll make sure you have a large window in your room."
Clark's eyes shut and he nodded. "Thanks."
Jonathan and Martha were whisked away into a separate ambulance as Clark was loaded into his own. Lois hoped up in the back as well, unwilling to let him out of her sight for a moment. She grasped Clark's hand. He gave her a gentle squeeze to let her know that all was well.
"Jimmy," Lois instructed the younger man, before the doors of the vehicle were shut. "Let Perry know I'm at the hospital, okay? I'll call him when I get the chance."
"Will do," Jimmy said, saluting her. "Glad you're okay, CK. I've missed you. I'll be by to visit as soon as I can," he added as the medical officers shut the rear doors.
With a wail of the sirens, the ambulances took off into the still sleeping city. Beyond the back windows of the vehicle, the flickering lights drenched everything in alternating shades of night-dark and blood red. The paramedics never ceased their fussing over Clark, starting him on an oxygen line, checking his pupils, monitoring his heart rate. An intravenous line of some kind of clear fluid was placed into his left arm. Lois wedged herself into an out-of-the-way corner, not sure what to do.
It didn't take long for them to reach the hospital. Clark was immediately brought to a room. Lois helped him shed his tattered and torn clothing and to get into the hospital gown, letting him lean on her as much as he needed. Then she helped him into the bed that lay there waiting for him. She leaned over him, unable to resist the urge to kiss him. Her lips met his in a gentle caress, and all felt right in her world once more. Clark eagerly returned the kiss, as if it alone could heal him. After a few minutes, they reluctantly broke apart once more.
Lois remained glued to his side, chasing away any curious nurses or doctors who poked their heads into that room. She paced for a while, but her energy reserve was emptying fast. She'd been running purely on adrenaline, ever since Jenson had come to her apartment. Finally collapsing into the chair next to Clark's bedside, she drummed her fingers impatiently on the pale pink blanket that covered him. To keep herself busy, she related to Clark all the things that had led up to the rescue that night.
Soon enough, Jonathan and Martha were shown into the room as well, newly bandaged and stitched where it was necessary. Jonathan's right hand was in a cast, his fingers broken during one of Trask's attempts to scare Clark into submission. He limped slightly as he walked, but waved away Lois' concerns, saying it was nothing more serious than a sprained ankle, and that had been gotten when he'd slipped getting out of the ambulance.
Time ticked slowly by as they continued to wait. Lois was just drifting off in the chair when a knock sounded at the door. She was instantly awake again.
"Someone order a doctor?"
"Dr. Klein!" she cried out, relieved to see the man. "It's about time," she added, glancing at the clock.
"I got a little stuck in traffic," the doctor said, shrugging. "Now, what's this all about? I got filled in on the gist of things, but I have to say, I was shocked that you'd asked for me. You know I'm more of a lab guy, don't you?"
"We do," Lois said, nodding. "But you're the only one we trust."
Jonathan shut the door as Dr. Klein moved to Clark's side.
"I'm a bit of a...special case," Clark said, locking eyes with the doctor, pleading with him to understand just how delicate the situation was. "Mom? Dad?"
Martha and Jonathan exchanged a weighted look. It was clear to them that their son trusted this man with his deepest secret, but that did nothing to make them more comfortable in divulging the truth about Clark. And yet, bit by halting bit, they told Dr. Klein Clark's story. The man stumbled to the chair Lois had been sitting in, his mouth agape, though he did not say a word. When they were done, he asked a few questions, trying to discern how best to monitor Clark's health.
By then, the sun had risen and the first pale late fall rays spilled into Clark's room. The warm shafts of light were like a caress to the man, and he sighed in contentment. For a long time, he merely looked out of the large windows, almost in awe of the lightening sky, the streaks of clouds, tinted pink in the sunrise, and of the yellow ball of flame that steadily rose over the city.
Basking in that pool of life-giving sun, Clark felt his body growing stronger by the slightest of degrees. His chest no longer ached with the effort to draw in enough breath. His coughing almost ceased, and when he did cough, he no longer found traces of blood on his hand. The pains in his body grew less and less, until he no longer felt any discomfort. Only one thing persisted - his weariness.
After a while, as his parents fielded Dr. Klein's questions, Clark drifted off to sleep, safe and happy in the knowledge that he was alive, his parents were safe, and Trask was no longer a threat to the people he cared about.
***
December 17, 1994
Clark stepped off the elevator and into the bullpen of the Daily Planet. It felt good, to be back into his old routine again. He drew in a deep breath, reveling in the familiar sights, smells, and sounds of the newsroom. His friends and co-workers bustled from place to place. He could see Jimmy speeding along toward the back of the room, a stack of photographs in his hand, making a beeline for Perry's office. Phones rang shrilly, fingers tapped and danced across keyboards, fax machines beeped, and printers whirred. The air was thick with the smell of stale coffee cut by the strong odor of a new batch brewing in the break area. Someone had brought in donuts - Clark could smell the sweet scent of the sugary glazing on them.
But above all, she was there. Lois. Her steadily beating heart drew him like a magnet. Even after all this time, the sound of her heartbeat intoxicated him. It soothed him. It gave his life meaning and beauty.
He stepped forward again, heading to the steps which would take him into the very heart of the newsroom.
"Clark!" Eduardo called out, the first one to spot him.
At the man's outburst, a cheer went through the bullpen. Shouts of "Clark!" and "Welcome back!" and "Good to see you!" rang out over the entire floor while scattered applause sounded. He waved and nodded his head in acknowledgement, while an embarrassed smile crossed his lips. He descended the steps and made his way through the press of his co-workers. Hands reached out and slapped his back lightly or grasped his own in hearty handshakes. Clark smiled at each person, and thanked them for their warm welcome back. But always he worked his way toward Lois' desk.
"Hi," he said, when he finally reached his goal.
"Hi yourself," Lois grinned at him.
"Did you tell people that I was coming in today?" he asked, gesturing to the crowd around them.
"No. I wasn't sure if you were really coming in or not. I still think it's a bit too early."
Clark did not miss the hidden meaning in her words. They had discussed at length when Clark should go back to work. Lois had insisted that he wait a while longer, so that no one's suspicions were aroused. After all, there hadn't been a single Daily Planet employee who hadn't seen the pictures the paper had published of the daring rescue of the up-and-coming reporter. Not a single person hadn't seen the pictures the paper hadn't published, the ones Perry had deemed too graphic to print. But Clark had countered with the fact that he was literally climbing the walls of his apartment, bored out of his mind. He had claimed to be in desperate need of the mental stimulation of his job.
In truth, Clark had healed fairly rapidly after he'd been rescued from the underground bunker. Two days of solid sunlight had helped his body to recharge enough to allow his invulnerability to come back to him. Once that had returned, his body had healed itself. His cuts and bruises had closed and faded. His broken bones had knit back together. Dr. Klein had allowed him to leave the hospital just four days after his arrival, knowing that if Clark stayed longer, word would get out of the man's miraculous transformation to the very picture of health.
Except, he'd been a normal person, his invulnerable flesh aside.
The rest of his powers had been gone. Dr. Klein had theorized that prolonged exposure to Kryptonite coupled with the denial of sunlight had depleted Clark's body. Like an electronic device, Clark's internal "battery" had needed time to recharge. Because he used such incredible amounts of energy in order to use his special powers, his "battery" couldn't handle the demand, not coming off such a huge task of healing his entire body. But, over the course of a week, Clark's body had finally fully recharged. With that full "battery," his powers had come back. Clark had never been so happy to have his powers in all his life. He had felt lost without them.
During that time, he had spent every available hour of sunshine laying out on his terrace. Though the weather was turning cold swiftly, it didn't bother him. He merely lay out in an old chaise lounge chair, listening to the radio, reading, doing crossword puzzles, or talking with his parents. But, though he loved spending time with Jonathan and Martha, the monotony soon threatened to drive him crazy. He couldn't even get out to take a walk. As far as the public was concerned, Clark Kent was still recuperating from his harrowing ordeal.
Only twice had he been bold enough to go flying, reveling the feeling of the wind in his hair and the freedom from everything. It had felt amazing to leave the world behind for a while, letting the noises and sights fade into the distance, and letting his mind relax as much as it could. He had spent some of that time in that void between Earth and space, facing the sun and basking in its rays, unfiltered through layers of clouds and pollution.
The nights had been the easiest time for him. After work, Lois would come by his apartment. Clark would cook them dinner while his parents went out, in order to give the couple some privacy. He and Lois would share a meal, then snuggle down together on the couch and talk. Lois would relate the events of her day, bouncing ideas off him. He would give his perspective and opinions, and try to help her look for new avenues of information to investigate. But then she would leave again, though she always stayed as long and as late as she could. The loneliness would creep back up on Clark then, and the only balm for that was his dreams.
Now he could stand being home no longer. It was time to dive back into his life. It was time to start chasing stories once more, with Lois by his side. It was time to exercise his ability to change lives for the better, if he could.
"Kent! What in Sam Hill do you think you're doing here?" Perry called, coming up behind Clark. "I thought I told you not to show your hide in here before New Year's."
Clark didn't miss the smile on the editor's face. He returned it with one of his own. "You know me, Chief. I couldn't stay away."
Perry chuckled and patted Clark's shoulder in a fatherly manner. "Now that's the attitude I like to hear. But, uh, you sure you're up for this so soon?"
"Believe me, Chief," Clark said, nodding sincerely, "I feel like a new man."
"Good. But, uh, if you want, I could, uh, give you a few easy assignments. Just to get your feet wet again, you understand."
"Thanks, Perry, but no thanks. I'm ready to dive right back in to things. Lois has kept me up to speed on the collapse of the Metropolis Bridge. If you don't mind, I'd like to help her with that one. We've got a pretty good idea of who to talk to about the subpar workmanship that was done on the most recent renovation."
Perry hesitated a moment. "If you think you're up for it..."
"I am, Chief," Clark promised him.
"Well then, by all means."
"Thanks."
Turning to Lois, Perry spoke just loudly enough for Clark to hear without his special hearing. "You keep an eye on him, okay?"
"Will do, Chief," she said, giving the man a smile.
Perry started to walk away, then stopped. He turned back to face Clark. He looked as if he wanted to say something but hesitated.
"What is it, Chief?" Clark asked, his brow furrowed in concern.
"Ah, it's nothing. I shouldn't pry."
"It's okay," Clark assured him.
"Well, I never asked, because maybe it's none of my business. And maybe you don't want to talk about it. But, well, did you ever figure out just why that psycho took you hostage?"
Clark shoved his hands into his pockets as he carefully crafted his answer. "He, uh, thought I could use my...abilities...to take down governments." He frowned a little, not quite happy with his response now that it had emerged from his tongue.
Perry laughed and slapped his thigh. "Oh boy! That's a good one. Clark, you know that I think the world of your writing. But, for anyone to think you could use that skill to undermine governments..." He shook his head, still laughing.
Clark chuckled in relief. "Pretty ridiculous, huh?"
"And I thought Jason Trask was one brick short of a full load to begin with. This just seals it."
Perry turned, still chuckling to himself, and walked off toward the coffeemaker. Clark sat on the edge of Lois' desk, his habit ever since he'd first been paired to work with her. He gave her a tender smile.
"So, partner," he said, his eyes twinkling. "Shall we get to work trying to change the world?"
***
December 26, 1994
"Wanna tell me where we're going, Fly Boy?"
"Nope." Clark grinned mischievously.
"Come on. Just a little hint?"
"No way."
"Please?"
"Lois, do you have to know everything at every moment? Can't you just be surprised for once?"
"No! I'm a reporter."
"Not tonight you aren't."
"That's not fair, you know."
"Nice try. But I'm still not telling. You'll see when we get there."
"Fine. Keep your secrets," Lois huffed.
She snuggled closer against his neck, kissing him there. Clark groaned in pleasure, closing his eyes for the briefest of moments. She was trying to get him to talk, he knew that. He was silently thankful that they were nearly to their destination. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take without breaking.
"Lo-is," he sighed. "Not that I don't love when you do that. But, please, I need to concentrate."
Lois giggled a little, obviously pleased with the effect she had on him. But she stopped raining kisses along his neck and jaw line, instead contenting herself with looking out over the land below her. She clutched Clark a little tighter, her arms locked around his neck. Clark smiled, looked down at her lovingly, then brought his attention back to his task.
Adding an extra burst of speed, he flew them out over the ocean, the waves below silvered in the moonlight. Above, the heavens sparkled with a countless scattering of diamonds. Clark had always enjoyed flying at night, seeing the world shrouded in darkness, knowing that people were resting from their labors. But now, every one of his senses was heightened, thanks to the beautiful woman in his arms.
He'd flown with Lois before, of course. But tonight was different. Tonight he would be sharing a very special place with her.
"How much longer?" Lois asked, unable to hold in her curiosity.
Clark chuckled. "Stop being such a reporter, Lois. We'll get there when we get there."
Lois huffed again and said nothing. But Clark could see her smile nonetheless.
A few minutes later, Clark altered the angle of his flight path, easing them down onto the sandy beach of a tiny, uninhabited island. There he set down his precious burden, letting Lois gently down onto the smooth, unmarred sand. He slipped the backpack from his shoulders and set it aside.
"Clark, this place is beautiful!" Lois said, her eyes seeming to dance in the moonlight.
"I'm glad you like it. I found it by accident when I was running from country to country after college. I like to come here when I need to relax, or want to be alone to think, or just need to recharge. At least...I used to."
"Used to?" Lois asked. "If I could fly, I'd probably be here all the time."
Clark shook his head. "I haven't needed this place since I got to know you, Lois. Not as a bouncer in a club or as your morning coffee boy. But as your partner and friend. And especially now, as your boyfriend. You've become my refuge, the calm in the center of the storm that makes up life. You recharge me. You're my home. Everything I need, or could possibly ever need, I've found in you, Lois. I love you. I have, ever since the very first time I saw you."
"Clark...I don't know what to say," Lois managed, her voice unable to hide the emotions swirling through her veins. "You know I love you too."
Clark dropped to one knee in the sand, a small black velvet box appearing from where he'd hidden it in his pants pocket.
"Say you'll marry me, Lois. Say you'll let me spend the rest of my life at your side."
"Clark?"
He popped open the lid of the box with his free hand. The simple, elegant solitaire diamond sparkled like one of the stars above. If anything, its gleam rivaled that of its heavenly cousins. Clark held the box up to Lois.
"Lois Lane, will you do me the extraordinary honor of marrying me?"
Tears brimmed in Lois' eyes, and for a moment, all she could do was nod. She swallowed hard, trying to banish the lump in her throat, hating her inability to speak, even - or perhaps especially - in a situation like this.
"Yes," she finally squeaked out, the word half strangled by the lingering lump that she hadn't fully succeeded in dispelling. Then again she answered, "Yes." Her voice was stronger that time.
Clark's smile lit up the night as surely as a sunrise would. In an instant, he was slipping his ring on his fiancée's finger. The thought staggered him for the briefest of moments. His ring. His fiancée. Then he was up on his feet, bringing Lois into a hug and a kiss so powerful that they both wound up on their knees in the silky sand.
For a long while, all they could do was trade kisses. They could not speak, not even each other's names. They could not get enough of one another. But eventually, they pulled apart, needing to breathe, needing to calm their racing hearts.
"Thank you, Lois," Clark said, resting his forehead against hers. "You've made me so incredibly happy. Not just tonight. Not just by agreeing to marry me. But ever since you first entered my life. There was a time when I never could have imagined any sort of joy in my life. Being with you though, has given me more happiness than most people will ever know in their own lives."
"It's funny," Lois said slowly, choosing her words. "I used to think that I didn't really need anyone or anything. Well, except for my career, reputation, and awards. But ever since I met you, when you came to Metropolis, that is, you've shown me just how much I need you in my life." She fell silent a moment, then smirked. "You don't happen to have a priest stashed on the other side of this island, for an elopement, do you?"
Clark chuckled and pointed to his backpack.
"No, I'm afraid not. But, I did bring some other stuff with me. Wine. Chocolates." He wiggled his eyebrows at her. "Bathing suits."
"A swim sounds great," Lois said, seeming to notice for the first time that she was in a sweater and jeans on a warm, tropical island.
"You can change behind that screen of trees," Clark said, pointing again. "I won't peek."
Lois laughed, but rummaged through the pack. She found the swimsuit in question, and wondered when he'd stolen it from her apartment. Probably when they had celebrated Christmas Eve at her place with her family. It couldn't have been Christmas Day, she mused. They'd been in Smallville all day with his parents.
It didn't take her long to change. By the time she got back, Clark was already in his trunks, standing at the water's edge. The gentle surf covered his toes and lapped around his ankles, the salty water warm even without the sun to heat it. He was staring out, up into the vast expanse of the night sky. There was a look of peace on his face, and of deep thought as well.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Lois asked, moving to stand alongside him.
"Just...thinking."
"That much is obvious," she teased. "What about?"
"Well...I've always known that I was lucky, despite the rough patches of my life. After all, I managed to wind up on the right farm when I was a kid. I managed to escape certain death when Krypton exploded, because I was fortunate enough to have parents who sacrificed everything to ensure that I had a chance to live. And of all the millions of people on this planet, I wound up crossing paths with you - not just once, but over and over again."
"Fate," Lois said.
"Maybe," Clark said, shrugging. "It can't just all be random chance, can it?"
"I don't know. What I do know is, I feel like my whole life has been leading up to this moment." She admired the diamond adorning her left hand. "Like this was meant to be."
"Me too," Clark said, drawing his arm around her and pulling her close. He rested his cheek on the top of her head. "Me too." He sighed deeply.
"What?"
"Sometimes...I wonder. Did my parents...my birth parents...know or guess that the other half of my heart was on Earth? Would they be surprised?"
Lois smiled in the darkness. "I wish I could have met them, if only just to thank them for sending you into my life."
Clark smiled as well. "Come on, no more dwelling. On to happier things. Let's swim, shall we?"
"Last one in is a rotten egg!" Lois declared after dashing from his side and into the dark waves.
"That's cheating!" Clark said, good-naturedly teasing her. With a burst of super speed, he was right next to her in the water.
"No, that's cheating!" Lois laughed, splashing him lightly.
Clark only laughed.
After an hour or so, the newly engaged couple made their way back to the beach. Clark dried them both off with a quick scan of heat vision over their bodies, then set out a thin red blanket. He uncorked the wine, poured them both a glassful, and broke open the box of Swiss chocolates he'd purchased in Switzerland that morning. They leaned against one another, not talking, just enjoying the other's presence.
For the first time in months, the world seemed completely at peace and in harmony.
***
February 3, 1995
Lois and Clark pressed through the throng of gawking onlookers, trying to get to the front of the mob, as close to the police barricade as they could. Clark trailed Lois, apologizing to the people they inadvertently bumped into in their quest to reach the front. Finally, they reached their goal. Half a block away, Lex Tower was burning. Lois immediately launched into reporter mode, flinging questions in rapid-fire succession to the police and fire fighters nearby.
For Clark's part, he was gazing intently at the burning building, every part of his inner self coiled into heavy knots. Thick, black, acrid smoke poured from the upper stories, rising into the air like a cloud of death. Clark could see that, even against the slowly darkening sky. Flames danced in the windows; blazing orange, blood red, and bright yellow, with the occasional flicker of blue where the fire burned the hottest. He could hear the screams of those trapped inside; terrified, panicked sounds without discernable words. He could smell the stomach-churning odor of burning flesh and hair, the sharp stench of carpeting as the fire ate through it, the rich scent of wood as it too, was consumed by the flames.
He looked around at the gathered crowd. He saw the faces of the people, stark fear and utter shock as they stayed, rooted to the spot, their eyes locked on the building. His fists balled tightly. He wanted to help. He knew he had the means to. The fire wouldn't hurt him; it wouldn't even singe his clothing. And, he noted, it was obvious that the fire trucks on the scene could not reach the upper floors of the skyscraper. As he looked on, some of the fire fighters came out of the building, choking even through their oxygen masks. Clark tuned in his hearing.
"It's no use. We can't get past the eighty-seventh floor," one surly man was saying to the fire chief.
"Smoke's too thick and every stairwell is engulfed in flames so intense that we can't cross," another man put in.
The first man nodded. "Even if we could, it's just a matter of time before the entire building comes down. However this blaze started, it's burning too hot and too quickly. We'd have to get it out soon in order to preserve any kind of structural integrity."
Clark clenched his jaw. He could still hear the people trapped within the building, and his heart quietly broke for them. Determination settled over him, replacing his grief. He would find a way to help, consequences be damned. He tapped Lois' shoulder to get her attention. She broke off her question to one of the witnesses immediately. Clark bent his head into Lois' ear, burying his lips in her silken hair.
"I'm going in," he whispered to her.
Lois' mouth opened in surprise but she knew enough not to question him, not when there were so many people gathered around.
"Trust me," Clark said again. "It might be awhile. I'll meet you back at my apartment."
"Okay," she said, unable to argue with him. Then she fixed him with a look that clearly pleaded with him to be careful.
He nodded back, a silent vow that he would take every precaution. Then he was gone, gently forcing his way through the crowd. People seemed eager to let him jostle on by, ready to converge closer to the scene by pressing into the spot he'd just vacated. With great care not to hurt anyone, Clark extricated himself from the crowd, which was only swelling in size as more people stopped to gape at the massive fire.
Clark swiftly put his back to the crowd. Glancing carefully around, he found a deserted alleyway. With a quick scan using his powers, he ensured that the only witness to what he was about to do was a mother cat with a litter of six newborn kittens. Pocketing his glasses, he shot up into the sky, faster than any human eye could follow, then raced toward Lex Tower. He entered the building via the roof, tearing the solid, heavy metal door off its hinges when he found it to be locked. Using another burst of super speed, he entered into the building.
His sensitive hearing brought him to each stranded person. The smoke was too oppressive to see much of anything. For that, Clark was almost glad. The same wall of black smoke would help shield him from prying eyes, would help cloak his identity. He went carefully through each floor, working with all speed to get people out of harm's way, starting with the topmost floor and steadily working his way down. And yet, even in his haste, he was sure to go slowly enough to ensure that no one was left behind.
He carried each man, woman, and child he found through the blazing inferno raging around them, if they were unable to walk. Those that were, he merely aided, throwing an arm around their waist or shoulders and letting them lean on him. When he could, he took precious seconds to neutralize some of the choking smoke so that it was easier for the victims to breathe, or killing small patches of fire. He guided them all down to lower floors, beneath the fire, instructing them to get out of the building. On the floors below, he could hear teams of firefighters coming across the people he'd rescued from the upper floors. He kept one ear partly tuned to them, but no one seemed to know how they had gotten out of the blaze or who had helped them. He allowed himself a short-lived sigh of relief and plunged back into his work.
Time lost all meaning in that burning hell. Clark couldn't be sure if he was there for minutes or hours, one day or many. All he knew was each beating heart as he searched through the building, working as methodically as he could. All he knew was his drive to keep going, to save as many people as he possibly could before the flames ravaged them or the smoke suffocated them.
In one hallway, he saw a distraught man bent over the body of his young son. Clark raced to the man's side. Without thinking, Clark dropped to his knees beside the body, gently pushing the child's father back. He checked the boy for signs of life, and found none. He began CPR, administering his breaths and chest compressions with the utmost care, afraid to do more harm than good. Long minutes passed, minutes that Clark knew were crucial not just to the child, but to everyone else stuck inside the inferno. But finally, the child sucked in a breath and coughed. Clark once more let out a sigh of relief. Without a word, he helped the father to his feet, scooped up the child, and helped them down to a lower floor, handing over the boy to his father once they were relatively safe. Then he was gone again, plunging back into the flames.
For only the briefest of seconds, Clark allowed himself to be worried. The man had seen his face. He'd blown his cover. Listening in, he heard the man reach a fireman. The firefighter took the boy from his father's arms as the man related his tale.
"I'm telling you. There's a guy in there, helping. I don't know who. His face is all covered in soot and ash. You gotta send some guys up there to help."
"We're doing everything possible, sir," the firefighter assured him, as he helped the father and son down the stairwell.
Clark leaned against the wall and sighed, raking his hand through his dirty hair. He let out a quavering sigh. So far, his secret was still intact. The man couldn't identify him. As Clark passed a polished metal art hanging, he saw why. Every inch of his exposed skin was covered in smoke, streaked with soot, caked with ash. He could barely recognize himself. His hair, heavily soiled and slicked down from the weight, was a look he'd never worn in public. He smiled at the stranger who peered back at him from the reflective surface, then continued on in his mission.
It was three painstaking hours later when he finally was satisfied that everyone was out of the building. There were bodies, of course, of people he hadn't gotten to in time. Each discovery had been like a knife in his heart. Still, hundreds of people had made it out of the fire alive, most, if not all, who would have died without a little bit of alien intervention. But Clark didn't think of his role in that way. He was glad only that he had been able to make a difference.
He had also done what he could in stemming the fire as he worked at helping people get to safety, starting with dousing the flames in the stairwells to allow the victims to escape. He had been too afraid to put out the entire thing, for that would have truly raised eyebrows in Metropolis, and indeed, in all the country. But he had significantly snuffed out enough of the blaze to keep the building from collapsing, and to allow the firefighters access to the floors that had previously been denied to them.
Giving the building one final scan, he headed to the roof once more. He took a deep breath of fresh, clean, frigid air. It felt good, as though that one single breath purged all traces of smoke and burning flesh from his lungs. Then he was off, flying through the night, making with all speed for his apartment. Once there, he landed on his terrace, his arrival no more than a light whoosh of noise. For a moment he stood there, looking in through his windows, seeing Lois sitting at his table, her back to him, typing away at his laptop at a furious pace. Clark smiled to himself. Lois never ceased her work.
At normal, human speed, he went to the door that would take him inside. Lois was instantly on her feet as she heard him open the door, the knob rattling slightly as it turned. She went to hug him, but stopped short as she took in his appearance.
"Clark? Is that really you? Everything okay?" she asked, looking at him concernedly.
"Yeah," Clark said, nodding. "It's me. Everything's fine. Just give me a minute to get cleaned up, and then I'll fill you in."
"Deal. You look like you've been through a warzone."
"I feel like it."
"I'll make us some coffee."
"Sure, that'd be great."
Clark headed off to his bathroom, his shoulders slumped somewhat. Too many thoughts were running around his head. It felt good, stripping out of his filthy clothes, once he was in the sanctuary of his bathroom. He turned on the water as hot as he could, since it wouldn't bother him, then stepped beneath the spray of the shower head. He scrubbed his skin and washed his hair at super speed, wanting to get back to Lois as soon as possible. He wound up scrubbing himself down four times before he was satisfied that the stench of the fire no longer clung to him like a second skin.
Lois was just finishing getting the coffeemaker set when Clark reemerged, dressed in clean, comfortable clothes. He came up behind her as she set out two mugs on the kitchen counter, and hugged her around her waist, drawing her body against his. His head leaned against her own.
"How bad was it?" Lois asked. "Wait, dumb question. Of course it was bad. You were there for a long time."
"Yeah," Clark agreed, not letting go of her. "I couldn't...I didn't...not everyone got out alive." His voice was soft and regretful. "I...failed."
Lois turned in his arms and hugged him tightly. "Hey. Because of you, hundreds of people are alive. People who otherwise would have lost their lives tonight. It's more than anyone has the right to have hoped for. You did a fantastic job."
"Thanks. I just wish..."
"That you could have done more?" Lois finished for him.
Clark nodded. "You know me too well, I think."
The coffeemaker finished filling the small pot beneath it, the strong aroma of the brew filling the entire apartment. It was a welcome smell for Clark, chasing away the memory of the horrific stench of the fire. He pulled out of Lois' embrace and grabbed the pot of fresh coffee. He poured the two drinks, fixed them in their preferred ways, then brought them over to the couch. He sat down wearily and handed Lois her mug.
"How long did you stay?" he asked her, taking a sip from his cup.
"Almost as long as you did. I needed to see what happened. For our article, and because I was worried about you."
Clark smiled. "You know you don't have to worry, right? Nothing can hurt me. Except for Kryptonite. And S.T.A.R. Labs has that under lock and key."
"I know, but still..."
"You know, I love that you worry about me," Clark said, flashing her another small smile. "And I'm sorry it took me so long to get back. I did a couple more checks of the building before coming home. Just to make sure that it wasn't going to collapse and that no one else was stuck. Did anyone say how the fire started?"
Lois shook her head. "Not yet. At least, nothing certain. But they suspect arson."
Clark fell silent and fidgeted with his mug. "There's one other thing," he said after a moment, his voice sinking to a near whisper.
Lois saw the seriousness in his face. "Clark? What is it?"
"Someone...saw me."
"Clark!"
"It's okay," he said quickly, trying to stem Lois' fear before it could explode. "They didn't recognize me. They said as much to the firefighter. I mean, you saw me when I came in. I didn't exactly look like myself."
"That's true," she conceded. "But, God, Clark, I thought you were going to be careful!"
"I was. But I didn't have a choice in the matter. I had to show myself. His kid stopped breathing, and he was too in shock to do anything. I had to do something."
Lois sighed. "I understand."
Clark sighed as well, leaning back into the couch cushions. "It kills me to have these powers and only be able to help when I'm sure not to be noticed. I want to be free to help. But if I do that...people will know that I'm...not like them."
Lois was quiet a moment. But then, she began to speak as an idea formed in her mind. Clark could see the dawning of some inner light as it crept over her face.
"What if...what if you didn't hide what you can do?"
"I can't do that, Lois. You know that. Look at what happened with Trask. I wouldn't be safe. You wouldn't be safe. Or my parents. Or anyone else I'm close to."
"But, what if people didn't know it was you?"
"I don't think I'm following. Why wouldn't people know it was me?"
"Because," Lois said, resting her head on his shoulder, "you'd be in disguise."
"Disguise?" There was a note of amusement in Clark's voice, if not belief that such a plan could possibly work.
But Lois was clearly excited. "Yeah! You could wear something different when you go off to help people."
"I don't know, Lois."
"You know about Zorro, right?"
"Yeah," Clark said hesitantly. "He wore a mask and cape and helped people out."
"Right," Lois said. " He was actually a nobleman, but he wore a disguise to keep his true identity a secret. "
"And you think that will work in my case, Lois?" Clark asked, frowning.
"Why not?"
"Well, for one thing, Zorro is completely fictional. I, however, am not." He pressed a hand to his chest for emphasis.
"Just promise me that you'll keep an open mind."
"Okay..."
Lois sprang up from the couch and grabbed Clark's phone, a triumphant smile on her face.
"Wait, who are you calling?"
Lois grinned at him. "Your mother."
"My mom?"
Lois shrugged. "She's a better seamstress than I am." She started punching in the Kents' phone number on the dial pad.
"Just one thing, Lois?"
"Hmm?"
"I am not wearing a mask."
To Be Continued...
