I felt stupefied, dumbfounded - use whatever adjective you wish - when I had a moment to let the revelations of the last few minutes wash over me. Clark stood now, holding the automatic pistol pointed towards Trask's chest. He shook with the tension of holding the gun, something I doubt he had ever done before. But his gaze remained fixed on Trask, determined to intimidate him if not stop him entirely. I knew Clark would never shoot him, but I wondered if Trask knew that. Perhaps his own fear of the ‘alien’ he had created in his mind made him believe Clark was capable of anything.
Clark was standing over Trask, yet it wasn't him. I mean, it was Clark. But it was also Superman, and that realization kept my eyes fixed on their tableau, for reasons more than concern over the situation itself.
I felt a little foolish; where previously I would have bet my reputation on Clark not being Superman, his reaction to that green rock had been undeniable. He wasn’t wearing tights or the cape, but I knew the fullness of the truth, of who he really was… and how often and easily he had lied to me.
I wanted to be angry with him, but my fascination over the revelation held my anger at bay, at least for now. Perhaps it was the curious reporter in me, but all I wanted to do was ask Clark a hundred questions about his double life, though I knew I couldn't do it with Trask still here. In this weather, we were stuck with him for the foreseeable future so I was left to simmer in my tumbling emotions and burning questions.
Clark turned to me, his face eloquent with apology. "Lois, could you--?" he said, gesturing to the lead box that held that deathly poison for him. "Take it somewhere, anywhere. Just don't say where so our - guest doesn't get any ideas."
I nodded wordlessly, lifting the heavy lead box, still puzzled as to how it had hurt Clark yet not wanting it to do further damage to him.
Trask watched me, and I could feel his hate radiating towards me.
"You're making a big mistake, Miss Lane. The world will judge you harshly for aiding and abetting this alien creature!"
I glanced at Clark, but he hid his gaze from me. Was he afraid I agreed with Trask on some level? I wanted to reassure him. To tell him that despite how upset I was that he had hid this secret from me, I could never believe what Trask was saying.
But I knew that first I had to get rid of the poisonous rock. No matter how much Clark had lied to me, he’d saved me more times than I could count. Despite my anger at the deception, I still would do anything I could to keep Trask from getting the upper hand.
I put on my boots, hat, gloves and jacket once more. I looked over again at Clark, who despite being Superman, looked like his arm was getting tired of holding the pistol at Trask. I wondered what he would do in my absence and just prayed it wouldn't be something foolish. I knew Superman to be levelheaded and capable, but Clark… Had his bumbling excuses all been an act, too? I suppose so, and I couldn’t resist staring at Clark a moment before leaving, trying to reconcile what my brain knew, but what my heart was still processing. His glasses were gone, and there was a curl of hair on his forehead, that sometimes slipped out of place when he was Superman. But the worry and the tension in his face… was purely Clark.
He glanced at me and tried to send me some sort of reassuring smile. But my world was upside down, and I didn’t know how to handle it, how to face him. That smile melted my defenses when I saw it on Superman, and when Clark dared it, it always threw my wall of sarcasm up. Knowing that the two were one and the same was humiliating, really, and despite my anger at his lies, I knew I had done my fair share of mooning after Superman. Enough that I even wondered if Clark had had a few laughs at my expense.
“I’ll, uh, be back,” I said vaguely in Clark’s direction, carrying the harmful lead box out of the house, happy to have a moment alone with my thoughts.
Snow was coming down heavier than we had anticipated, based on what the local radio had predicted. I guess a country foot of snow was more than a city foot, or something like that. The wind was still howling as well, and made it difficult to see very far ahead of me. The barn, however, was large and red, which made it a reasonable target to head towards. At first I was thinking of just leaving it there, but then again, if Trask managed to escape from the house, I didn't want him to be able to find it. I wondered if Clark would even recover from the exposure he already had. The thought that he might not shot a fear of terror through me. How could he live with himself if he never got his powers back? To be the most powerful man on the planet and to be suddenly be rendered - normal? I had to believe that there was a way --that he would recover. The world needed Superman, and so did I.
I did go in the barn, but only to purloin a shovel. I would bury the box somewhere away from the house, somewhere where I thought Trask wouldn't be able to find it. That meant I had to get far enough away as to not be seen from the house.
The lead box was heavy under my arm, but I wasn't about to let that stop me from my mission. As I trudged through the snow, my mind wandered back to the salient revelation of this little trip to Smallville - Clark is Superman. But without his powers. Even if we hadn't had Trask to deal with, I felt guilty about the idea of yelling at him for lying to me when he himself was probably feeling so vulnerable.
I walked on, the snow coming down heavier and disrupting my vision. I was somewhere on the edge of the fields, I think. I could still make out the outline of the barn, and the house lay just beyond. I thought I was far enough away, yet close enough to easily find my way back.
I began shoveling the snow, thinking that the ground underneath was pretty solid. I just needed to bury the box in the snowdrifts, and Clark could deal with it later.
The wind was whipping my hair in my eyes, and the cold made my nose feel like it would break off at any given moment, but I kept working.
I couldn't even remember the last time I had held a shovel or done any physical labor. I had vague memories of helping my mother in the garden as a child, but the shovel felt heavy and foreign in my hands now.
I managed to dig a hole, though the snow kept sweeping in what I had dug out. Still, it was enough I thought to get the job done. I laid the box in the hole and threw more snow on top, noting that the snow drifts would quickly bury it anyway.
Satisfied that it wouldn’t be easily found and that Clark would be safe from its effects, I turned to head back to the house.
I panicked a little as I realized the snow was coming down harder than I thought. I couldn't see the outline of the barn! I started walking in the direction that I remembered it being, but the wind and my own confusion made me feel less confident with every step. I used the shovel as a sort of walking stick through the drifts, though I felt it was the only solid thing I could see in this wintry world. I called out Clark's name, hoping he might hear me despite the wind. The irony that with his powers he definitely would have been able to hear me wasn't lost on me. I longed for my hero in red and blue... but I didn't know if he'd ever come back to me. And even if he did, I’d have to get to know him all over again, as Clark.
Suddenly, someone out of nowhere grabbed me from behind. I felt terror seize me and I dropped the shovel. A scream was about to rip out of my lungs, but a hand holding a cloth covered it before I could.
Was it one of Trask's men or just another fluke of living out in the country? I think Smallville has more weirdoes than Clark gives it credit for.
I struggled, kicking with all of my might. Then I felt myself drifting as if in a fog, my muscles feeling weaker and softer.
As I faded out of consciousness, one thought drifted to the surface: "Damn. Chloroform. "
-L&C-
I awoke sometime later in the back of a van, my hands tied and my mouth gagged with a bandanna. I couldn't see anything, though I assumed we were parked somewhere since the car wasn't moving. My captor had seen fit to give me a blanket, but it was little defense against the bitter cold.
My feet were tied as well, though in the weak light I seemed to be facing a door. I gave it a shove, but my feet just contacted metal.
Suddenly, the door opened, and a whirl of wind came rushing into the small van. My eyes strained against the bright light and the wind. Last I had remembered, the sun was just coming up, and yet now it seemed as bright as noon.
“You. Grab the girl,” I heard a voice say, and suddenly I was being tugged out of the van.
“What´s going on here?” I demanded, my arm feeling like it was about to be twisted off.
“Take her out back with Irig. We´ll wait until we hear orders on what to do with them.”
“From Trask? He´s tied up at the moment!” I spat, hoping it were still true. But even if he wasn’t, he knew Clark´s secret, and I had no doubt that he wouldn’t rest until he´d exposed Superman´s identity to the world.
The thugs ignored me and dragged me into a barn at the back of someone´s property. I assumed it was Wayne Irig´s, because despite the snow, about ten men were working with heavy equipment, digging and scanning around the area. They had set up huge tents around the farm that helped keep some of the snow at bay so they could work. I assumed they were looking for more of that green meteor rock that had hurt Clark. I wanted to scream with the futility of it all. If Clark did show up here, even with his powers and there were meteor rocks present, we were all doomed.
They set me down on a chair next to a kindly looking farmer, and tied up me up. We were being watched by some man with a gun. Obviously it would be difficult to maneuver away, but I didn´t see any harm in talking to him. “Are you Wayne Irig?” I asked to confirm my supposition.
He nodded glumly. “This is all my fault… I wish I had never dug up that green rock.”
“Don´t blame yourself.”
“I just don´t understand what they want it for.”
Tears unexpectedly clogged my throat. They want to use it to kill Superman. Clark may have lied to me about Superman since I´d known him but he wasn´t the kind of person –alien or otherwise – who would hurt a living soul. No matter his deceptions, he obviously had good reason to keep it a secret. Even from me. Sure I was hurt that he hadn´t wanted to share his secret, but I guess on some level I understood why. But no matter what, we had to get out of this without Clark being exposed to any more of that horrible green rock!
“How well do you know the Kents, Mr. Irig?”
“Please, call me Wayne… Well, I´ve known the Kents practically my whole life. They´re good people. Especially that son of theirs. I´ve never met a nicer fella. I´m surprised he hasn’t found himself a girl yet.”
The tears that had been in my throat made their way to my eyes, and I was unable to stop one from rolling down my cheek. What a fool I had been... I hadn’t seen what was right under my nose the entire time. Not that Clark as Superman had helped any. He never gave me any indication as to who he really was.
And maybe he never would have told me.
Besides, what had I done to deserve to know? I had fawned all over Superman while putting down or flat out ignoring poor Clark! I felt my cheeks burn with shame. Even just for Clark´s sake. He had never deserved for me treat him like that and yet he had tolerated it. Why?
Had he hoped that I´d see through the suit and flashy cape to Clark underneath? Or had Clark hoped that I´d see something of the hero in him?
Either way, I had missed, on both counts.
And now, I wasn´t sure if I´d see him again. Who knew what these thugs would do to us, or whether Clark had managed to contact the police to deal with Trask. For all I knew, Trask had managed to shoot Clark while he was still vulnerable, and that thought absolutely terrified me.
My worry was beginning to exhaust me; plus, I didn’t think the chloroform had entirely worn off. Sometime between talking to Wayne and going round in circles in my head, I had fallen asleep. I know I had, because I was woken up by a strong, southern yet authoritative accent.
“You do not have a permit to dig on Wayne Irig´s property. Now, who is in charge around here?”
I was never so relieved to hear the voice of an ex-girlfriend of Clark´s as I was to hear Rachel Harris´.
“Sherriff Harris! In here!” I cried out, just before the guy with the gun came to tie another bandanna around my mouth. Wayne was apparently shocked into silence, as they didn´t seem to feel the need to gag him.
I feared I had missed our chance of salvation when two officers with guns entered the barn. “There are hostages back here, Sherriff!” shouted one, aiming his weapon at the heavy that had been keeping an eye on us.
Trask´s hired man didn’t seem to fear anything, and shot at the officer, hitting him in the shoulder. The second officer immediately shot the guard in return. Neither men appeared dead, but both men were down. I tried not to look at the blood oozing from the thug´s body onto the dirt floor.
A few seconds later, the uninjured officer came to Wayne and I and cut our ropes. “Are you all right?”
I immediately thought of Clark, fearing the worst.
“Yes, but we have to get over to the Kents´ immediately! Their ringleader, Trask, is there with my partner. When I left, Clark had him at gun point, but he´s not the kind of guy to use guns and I have no idea what will happen!”
“Clark´s in danger?” asked Rachel, in between delegating her men to round up the workers while at the same time radioing for backup.
“I´m afraid so. We need to get back to the Kent place now!”
~L&C~
My nerves were on edge the whole way back to the Kents´. The snow was slowing us down, and even in a pickup truck, we weren’t able to go any faster than 20 miles per hour. The fifteen minutes it took to get there were the longest minutes of my life.
I feared what we´d see upon arrival. What if Clark was weaker than ever and Trask had gotten the best of him? What if Trask had gotten his gun back and – I didn’t even want to think about it.
My heart was in a roil over Clark as it was. I had to deal with my infatuation with Superman and the fact that I really liked my partner. But I couldn’t even begin to sort out my heart until I knew we all were going to be okay.
As we finally pulled up into the driveway, we could see two figures fighting in the snow. It was obviously Clark and Trask, though it was hard to tell who had the upper hand.
Rachel stopped the truck a good distance away and turned to me. “Wait here where it´s safe, okay?”
I nodded, even though I wanted nothing more than to run to Clark and be sure he was going to be all right.
Rachel had one of her deputies follow her, and I watched as she approached the two men. The snow had stopped, though I couldn’t hear from this distance if they were talking. I worried that something about Clark being Superman was being said and what Rachel would make of it all. I just hoped that if she did hear anything, she was a good enough friend of Clark´s that she either wouldn’t believe it or know enough to keep it to herself.
The suspense was killing me, though, and suddenly, I couldn’t sit still a minute longer. Before I could stop myself with common sense, I hopped out of the truck. I had to know what was happening. I planned on staying out of the sightlines, even if the only thing I could really hide behind in the open field was what I thought were a couple of large hay bales. With the layer of snow over them, I figured they´d be large enough for me to hide behind, so I could hopefully hear what was happening.
I made a run towards the hay stacks and heard Rachel say a curse under her breath. She wasn’t happy about me not staying put. But obviously she didn’t know me very well.
As I darted up the drive, Clark glanced towards me, which drew Trask´s attention. Rachel was already by the house, and Trask apparently knew it was now or never. I thought he was quite far from me, but it didn´t stop the quake of fear I felt when I saw his gun aimed in my direction. I dove near the first hill of hay and covered my head.
I heard Clark yell, “No!” and the sound of gunfire cut through the cold open air.
I swear my heart stopped and I was a little surprised not to find a bullet lodged in me.
When I opened my eyes, there Rachel Harris stood, aiming her still smoking gun at Trask, who had just fallen into the snow, apparently dead.
I clamored to my feet through the snow, still trying to absorb what had happened. My eyes found Clark, and all I knew was that his arms would be the safest refuge. “Clark!” I said, running towards him. He met me half way and gathered me up in his arms, as I instinctively knew he would. “Are you okay?”
“Am I okay? You are the one Trask just shot at! I´m fine,” he said, holding me close.
That was when I realized that either my dive had been just in time or else Rachel’s bullet had spoiled Trask’s aim. I clung to Clark in relief until we were rudely interrupted.
“Um, Clark?” Rachel said from behind us, some moments later. “Do you two have a minute? I´ve got a few questions…”
~L&C~
Rachel finally left an hour later after interrogating me and Clark about Trask. We were both as honest as we could be about what happened without revealing that Clark was Superman.
We´d probably eventually have to testify in court against the men that had been on Irig´s property, but the whole nightmare seemed to be over for the moment.
I let Clark say good-bye to Rachel alone while I went into the kitchen to get another cup of coffee. Though the electricity was still off, Clark had boiled some water over the fire, and I took the kettle to pour hot water into the French press. I wasn’t sure if I was doing it right, but a little while later I was able to sit down in the living room with a passable cup of coffee. I stared into the fire as I drank, replaying the events of the last day in my head.
Clark is Superman.
How could I not have known? I glanced over at the doorway, seeing his broad shoulders nearly meet both sides of the frame. He was an imposing figure and yet the gentlest of souls.
And I just couldn’t stop feeling like I had messed everything up.
Yes, I was mad that he hadn’t told me the truth. But how could I forgive myself for treating him so appallingly, while practically worshiping his alter ego? I must have come across as shallow and petty, and now I was worried about where we would go from here.
I heard the front door shut and waited for Clark to come into the living room. My heart was in a mess of emotions, and I wasn’t sure which would come to the surface first: relief that we both survived our encounter with Trask, anxiety over whether Clark would regain his powers, or the fact that I had made a fool of myself time and again with my infatuation of Superman?
Or simply, the fact that he was Superman?
“You want some company?” I heard him ask quietly from behind me.
“Yeah, sure,” I managed to say, feeling my throat tight with tears. I glanced up at him, and he must have seen my look as he sat right down next to me.
“Lois, are you okay?” he asked solicitously, which only intensified my urge to cry.
I turned to face him, tears in my eyes, though I couldn’t express exactly why. Stress over the events of the day, sure. But something else was there, too. Something akin to humiliation, or perhaps the fear that I would lose him.
I found myself in his arms somehow, as he set my mug of coffee on the table. Tears streamed down my face and I kept sobbing, “I´m sorry, Clark,” into his shoulder, over and over. “I just didn’t know.”
He rubbed my back, like he would a child´s. “I didn’t mean for you to know, Lois. It was safer for you not to know.”
I eventually sat up, and he handed me a tissue. “I mean, of course I didn’t know. You never told me!” I said, hitting him in his uninjured shoulder out of frustration. “But—I should have known, on some level… some investigative reporter I am.”
“Lois, don’t do this. Please. Look, we both had a stressful day.” He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair before speaking again. “I uh, I just need to know one thing.”
I blew my nose and turned to him, seeing the stress of the day for the first time in his eyes, too. He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose and then looked at me. “Are you going to tell Perry?”
I glanced at him, at first shocked that he would ask me that. I sighed and sat back into the sofa, musing over the idea. “Do you mean will I write an article about what I know? That Clark Kent is Superman?" I knew it would be the headline of a lifetime, sure. Any reporter worth his or her salt would kill to know the identity of Superman and write about it.
He shifted anxiously, not looking at me, and I reached out to touch his arm. “But the world´s hero is also something else to me,” I said softly. “He is my partner and my best friend." I couldn't get out all that I wanted to tell him, how I really felt. How I loved how he let me stay over at his place when criminals were on the loose. And how he always rescued me when I needed him the most. And sometimes, that he even does it without wearing a cape. I simply smiled at him, and I saw him watching me, unsure whether to trust my intention. “You´ve saved my life more times than I can count, Clark. I owe you so much… Both of you.”
Despite my reassurances, I could still see anxiety in his expression. Perhaps he feared that Lois Lane, award-winning reporter, would still emerge triumphant. Maybe he feared her ambition would get the better of me and the better of him, and that I would write this most extraordinary and once in a career story.
And the fear that he thought those things about me, which would have been so accurate in the past, made me feel deeply ashamed.
I wanted him to know that I was his friend no matter what. That yeah, I could be a tough cookie on the outside, but that he had reached my tender center more often than I had wanted to acknowledge. I wanted him to know that he could trust me as much as I trusted him. I trusted him with my life – even before I knew his secret. I always ran to Clark first when I had a problem.
I reached for his hand and squeezed it in mine, making him look at me. “No, Clark. I won´t tell a soul. Your secret is my secret.”
