By Betsy R.
Submitted: January 2002
Summary: What if Clark hadn't come back from New Krypton right away? What would life have been like for Lois Lane? Here is a story that gives one possible answer to that question…
This story takes place right after CK leaves for NK, and the story departs from canon there. No copyright infringement is intended, etc, etc
I still can't believe he's gone. I knew he was leaving, but it's like when Grandma was dying. We all knew she was dying, and that it could be any day. But somehow, when she was gone, the hurt was still surprising.
Perry pulled me aside after they left. He was concerned, I could tell. I mean, here was half his star reporting team — his *engaged* reporting team — bawling her eyes out for one of her fiancee's supposed best friends. He wanted to know when Clark was expected back from reporting on the crowds' reaction to Superman abandoning us. I broke the news to him then.
Clark and I talked a lot about how we'd tell everyone about Clark's disappearance. I came up with a story that was halfway believable. I told Perry that Clark had stowed away on Superman's ship. Clark didn't think the New Kryptonians were above board, so he got some Kryptonite to use against them. He knew Superman wouldn't do that, and since Superman had saved Lois and Clark so many times… Superman had promised to return, and Clark knew it would be the scoop of the century… blah blah blah. I can't believe he bought it. But I guess he was just relieved that I was crying over my fianc‚e, not Superman.
Martha and Jonathan left today. Jonathan said that he needs to get back to work, and I think that's going to be his way of coping with losing his son. I think Martha would have liked to stay a little longer, but she knows that Jonathan needs her right now. As I need Clark.
Oh, Clark, where are you now? Are you on New Krypton already?
I've decided to keep this journal as an outlet for my babbles. I'm just beginning to realize all the little differences Clark has made in my life. Having someone to babble at is just one of those differences. I need a place to let it all out. I don't expect that I'll be able to make sense of these entries in the future. There's more emotion in these lines than logic, and the reporter in me is cringing as I write. Clark woke me out of my 100-year sleep, and I don't want to go back to being an emotional cripple. He showed me that pain is something you get along the way, but that way is the only way to true love. The love I have found with him. And I'm not going to let myself slip back into the old me. I love and respect Clark too much to undo all his hard work.
There, I've gone and smeared the paper. After I went out and bought this new journal just to write in. Darned tear ducts. I knew I should have done this on a computer.
Perry is expecting me to write the story on Clark's stowaway adventure. He knows I'm close to the story, but he thinks this story needs more of a human angle. I hope I can write it.
I hope I can get through this.
Will I ever be able to breathe again without this burning need racking my body? My soul misses him. Nothing is right. Nothing eases it. I miss him so much.
I treated myself to a mocaccino with real milk this morning. Then I forgot it — it got cold as I sat, staring at Clark's desk, trying to keep tears from falling. I'm such a mess.
I've come to a decision. I'm going to move into his place while he's gone. I can't pay the rent on both places, and he's gonna want the benefits of his place (like secluded launching pads and hidden closets) when he comes back. At least that's what I say on the outside.
The real reason is that I feel much closer to him there. That's where most of the important decisions in our lives have been made. That's where we first made love — after that whole Deter fiasco. I can smell him there, and I don't feel so alone.
So I'm going through his stuff and condensing it (he has lots of empty closet space — I could never imagine that!). I'll rent a small storage space, and I'm putting some of his stuff, but mostly my stuff there. I'm just in the 'making lists' stage, but it keeps me occupied. It keeps my mind off other things.
I wrote the story. The 'Kerth winning reporter stows away on alien vessel' story. I don't know how, but I did it. Perry didn't even ask for revisions, so either it was perfect, or he knew I couldn't do more. I guess it shows. Maybe I should try to hide my pain more. It's just that the pain is so much of what I am right now that I can't hide it at all.
People at the Planet have been avoiding me carefully these last few days. It's almost like the old days. Only instead of being cold inside, I'm burning. Instead of being numb, I'm in pain.
I'll move on. Slowly. I have to.
I dreamed of him again last night. Just a blurb. It wasn't like a dream, though. It was more than that. Usually dreams are something that happened to you before or something that is so bizarre you wake up wondering what demented part of your mind spawned them. But this was different. It was like when he first left, like when I heard him, and I know I heard him, saying that he loved me. He was telling me, in my dream that he was fine, and he loved me. I couldn't touch him, I couldn't see him, I could just hear him. Definitely weird. And my mind just kept saying back that I loved him. I love him so much. And I miss him. Then I could feel him say "I know. I miss you, too. More than I can say." That was it. That was all. But it was so much.
I know I shouldn't let my hopes get up because of a dream. I've been so out of it the past two weeks, I'm clutching at straws to try to keep my head above water. But I don't think it was just a dream. It seems like so much more than that. Maybe it's my subconscious trying to keep me sane. Whatever it is, it has made this day much more livable than any of the last 13.
I'm going to start moving into his place this weekend. I'm just bringing stuff over bits at a time. The landlord said that I could use the small loft next to Clark's place for storage, and the fee is pretty good. So it'll make the move a lot easier when I have to do the big stuff. Not as easy as having super-muscles move stuff, but there you have it.
Jimmy said he'd help. He's been heartbroken. I gave him the note that Clark left for him — he left notes for a few people explaining why he had to go with Superman, asking them to understand. But Jimmy has been abandoned so much in his life. He looks to Clark like the older brother he never had. I think the hardest part for him is trying to pretend that he's just said goodbye to a friend. Clark is much more than that to him. At least I have the ring on my finger as a reason for tears. Jimmy doesn't have that. But he has me, as I have him, and Perry. The three of us are muddling along.
Damn him and his nobility. I can't believe he has left me here, alone. "Nothing can come between us, Lois." Nothing except a couple of flying freaks who never believed in him in the first place. I should have known that I would take a back seat to anyone and anything. I mean, I can understand that he's Superman. I understand that. But why the hell did he have to travel across the galaxy? Aren't there enough poor saps right here on earth that demand every second of his time?
IT'S NOT FAIR.
It's just not fair. I want him back. I want to turn back time and tell myself — "Look, this man is the most special thing that will ever happen to you. Ignore Lex Luthor. Spit on Daniel Scardino. Spend every second you can with Clark Kent. Or, believe me, you'll regret it. Right down to the very depth of your soul, you'll regret it."
But I can't. I wasted the better part of 3 years and I can blame no one but me.
I'm such a loser. And I've lost the only thing that matters.
Lucy came to see me today. I think she was trying to see if I was okay. I was genuinely glad to have someone to talk to. She listened. She cried with me. I'm glad I have a sister.
We avoided talking about Mother, though it was on both our minds. Mother has called me exactly once since Clark left. She basically gave me an 'I told you so' speech. I am very proud that I didn't tell her I never wanted to see or hear from her again. I simply hung up on her. I won't allow her to try to poison my trust in Clark. Mother is officially not speaking to me right now. That's okay by me. Someday I'll apologize, but right now, I can't handle it.
Lucy offered to stay the weekend with me — help me unpack and all that. I took her up on it. It's nice to have someone around. Jimmy came over and the three of us watched a movie. It wasn't so hard to pretend that he was just out on a rescue, that he would land on the balcony any second now, and come steal the bowl of popcorn. But he's not walking in the door or flying through the window any time soon.
It's been less than a month, and I have had the dreams a few times. But it's just not enough.
Please come home, Clark. I need you.
Oh god oh god. It hurts so much. Sometimes I think that I'm doing fine, then I'll catch myself looking where he should be sitting and it all hits me again. I just want to curl up in a ball and die. How can I survive this?
Martha is coming out next weekend to spend some time with me. I think she realizes how close I am to losing it, for real. I don't even feel like he's out there. I feel like he's gone, and there's nothing I can do. The dreams have stopped and it's like my last lifeline to him is cut. I miss him so much, so very much.
Moving here has made it better and worse. I changed the sheets last week, and all the clean sheets are ones I have washed since he left. For the first time, I couldn't smell him as I slept. Maybe that's why the dream stopped. But, I feel like something very bad has happened. I can't shake it. Grey cloud of doom hanging over my head, I guess.
People at work are talking to me again, as though they expect I should be moving on now. They act as though a few weeks are enough to dull the pain. I understand, of course. I have never been able to deal with other people's pain.
So, I've been keeping busy. I go to the gym almost every day, and I'm taking martial arts classes again. I'm taking a cooking class on Saturdays, because I figure the challenge will keep my mind occupied. And I've gone back to being Mad-Dog Lane on stories. But it doesn't fill the gaping hole in my being. It only succeeds in tiring me out enough to grab a few hours of restless, dreamless sleep.
I look at the sky at night. Trying to find his star. Trying to find him. But he's not there, and the scene blurs before me. I know I should be trying to start to heal. But I can't. He's not just a boyfriend, just a friend, just a co-worker, just a lover. He's a part of me. I am incomplete without him.
I miss him so much.
Still nothing. Nothing from him. Nothing inside me. I am numb. I am dead.
The dream came to me again last night. He's okay. I know he is. He told me so. He said he misses me, and he'll talk to me again soon.
I had told Martha when she was here about the dreams. She said she thought it was really him. She said that she had always known he would be able to do something like this. Even when she knew how his judgment of people's actions could be way off (he tends to judge others actions as a 'what would I do if I were in this situation?' but that doesn't work, because no one is anything like him!) Sometimes, he just knew how someone felt or how they would act. Almost as if it were a premonition.
But that made me more worried. If it were really telepathy, why had it stopped? It couldn't mean anything good.
I didn't allow myself to think about it during the day. I just worked as hard as I could at ignoring what my own inner being knew.
At night, my subconscious would search for him. It would never find him. I woke up with tears on my pillow for weeks.
Then last night happened.
I have almost begun to dread sleep. What should have been peaceful oblivion never was. I woke up tired in a way that I can't explain. So falling asleep became harder. Clark must have had problems sleeping before, because he has some great relaxation cd's .
I fell asleep, and sometime in the night he came to me.
"I'm fine Lois. I'm fine. I miss you, too. I wish I were with you. I love you."
That's all. But I'll remember it for the rest of my life.
I called Martha this morning, knowing she'd want to know. She cried when I told her. If I ever doubted that she believed what I was telling her before, this erased my doubt.
I think I'll have a nice bubblebath and go to bed early tonight. I've got a lot of sleep to catch up on.
Last night was amazing. We actually had a whole conversation. I understand now why I didn't hear from him for so long. I also understand why I was so scared. I almost lost him forever.
He told me a lot about what has been happening. I could tell he's been waiting to talk to me — he didn't let me get a thought in edgewise. He sounded so tired at first, but by the end of our … conversation? … he sounded better. He said it was just being with me. That I made him stronger. I was glad to know that, because he certainly makes me stronger. I can face today easily, knowing that he's okay.
Nor is dead, so he can't block communications off-planet any longer. Clark is getting stronger, though he's used to having no powers now (the red sun has depleted his physical strength completely). Strangely enough, that seems to have strengthened his ability to 'talk' with me.
There's some kind of problem. He can't come as quickly as he had first thought. Apparently, Zara is very sick. There's no heir apparent, so it has been decided that Clark shouldn't leave until the situation is settled. He wouldn't want to unbalance the peace he had worked so hard for.
Apparently, Ching and Zara were both very adversely affected by Earth's yellow sun. They aren't Kryptonians at all. Their 'powers' were all fake. They are technical geniuses, but they are of no relation to Clark. Now, the two people who came to find the savior Kal El are paying for that search with their lives.
I am a little scared at my own reaction to this news. It's almost relief. I wouldn't want a horde of those New Kryptonians deciding that Earth, with its fertile lands and water, was a good planet to settle on. They are a little too underhanded for me. But Clark feels nothing but pity for them.
They told him on the way to New Krypton that they lied about their origins. They said it was because they honestly needed his help. I guess they waited until there was no way for him to come back before coming clean. He would have gone anyway, I guess, but the lies still hurt him. I can tell.
Apparently, these guys worship the eons-dead culture of Krypton. They found a space probe that Jor El had deployed around the same time he sent Clark to safety. Any trace of real Kryptonian survivors is nil, but there's a wealth of information about his birth planet in this probe. It also tells the story of Kal El — the son of Jor El who was to be the sole survivor or the disaster — held in stasis in a tiny ship as it hurtled through space toward the safety of earth.
The New Kryptonians have given this probe and all its contents to Clark as a way to repay their debt to him. I know Clark was touched by this gesture, and having a link to his birth planet means a lot to him. It fills in a few more pieces of the puzzle.
But Clark said something strange but so sweet. He said that the probe gave him knowledge of a planet, but not of his home. He knows now more than ever that Earth is his home. That I am his home. As he is mine.
When will he come home?
Day 1 (formerly day 363)
I'm starting over. He's back. He came back today. Well, yesterday, actually. They delivered him to his apartment late last night. He wanted to surprise me. He did.
At first, all I could do was touch him. His face, his hands, his chest… And then I started laughing. I have never been so happy in my life. It doesn't seem that smiling is enough to show how happy I am. I'm laughing now as I write this — that explains why the writing is so wavy!
As we laughed, he twirled me in the air. We still hadn't said a word. We didn't need to.
He couldn't fly me to the bedroom. Instead, I led him there. When we were sated, and I was lying once again on his warm chest, I looked up into his beautiful eyes.
"Welcome Home, Clark." I said to him. We both smiled, with unshed tears in our eyes. He hugged me tightly.
We called Jonathan and Martha. They're headed out on Friday — they can't both get away sooner, and they're giving Clark a bit of room that he needs. Why can't all parents be this understanding?
I wouldn't be writing this now, but he's being de-briefed by the government today. He already delivered precious scientific data to Star Labs and duplicates to the United Nations for them to lend out as they see fit. We lanned in the story of his return — it was the front page story for the Planet. The gentlemen from the various agencies won't be able to hold him long, because there are too many people who want his story, now.
Clark's still proud of me for thinking this up. We knew the government would want to interrogate him, but this way, they can't do anything too much. There are too many prying eyes.
He should be home in a few days. This time for good. I can't wait.
He had a nightmare last night. It was a bad one. At first, I tried to hold him, but that didn't seem like it was enough. Then I just started whispering in his ear that everything was okay, stroking his back as I talked. Whatever he was reliving, it was something no one should ever have had to endure.
He hasn't told me much of the conditions on that planet. Not because he's protecting me. He's protecting himself. He doesn't want to remember.
But we both know that won't work. So he's writing it all down. He's writing war correspondent stories. Strange — galaxies away, and war is still hell.
He is much thinner than he was before. He's leaner, and he gets tired — quickly. But when he has these dreams, I can feel the muscles in him tense. Even now, without his powers, and down by 25 pounds, he's not someone I'd want mad at me.
Last night, when I first tried to calm him, he grabbed at me. I was scared for a minute, thinking — he could really hurt me! But he wouldn't. When I started to speak to him, he grew calmer, then started to cry.
If I could kill them all for putting him through this, I would.
He hasn't seen the bruises on my arm today. I hope I can hide them. Jonathan and Martha are getting in this afternoon, and Clark should be done with the various 'official interviews' for a while. I hope a normal weekend with his parents will put more light back in his eyes.
What a frustrating weekend. I can't sleep with Clark while his parents are here — something in me still hesitates at that. So I brought my day-bed out of storage and have been sleeping on it. Or, rather resting while not looking at Clark.
I can't seem to take my eyes off of him.
He's so beautiful. Hurt, but healing. I just can't believe that miracles exist. Yet one brought him here, and one returned him to me.
Of course, he's still not himself. He's having a very hard time sleeping. I've read the first of his stories, and I see why. The images haunt me, and I wasn't there, experiencing them. For a sensitive person like him, it must be killing him inside.
His mother woke up during one of his nightmares. I was sitting beside the couch, trying to comfort him. Martha came over and brushed his forehead. She smiled, a little sadly, down at me. 'Why don't you get some sleep?' she whispered.
We took turns for the rest of the weekend, sitting with him.
I feel wonderful.
Clark finally slept through the night. Well, what night there was after I was done with him. I guess I exhausted him.
Can a journal blush?
I know where every one of his scars is. I traced them all with my fingers and my tongue. Trying to take the pain out of him. Trying to show him that I will always find him beautiful. He just lay back at first, as he always has, letting me set the pace. Afraid, I think, of hurting me with his strength and his need.
Then something in him ignited.
It was as though he was trying to bury his pain in me by burying himself in me. Then he just worshipped me. He may not have his super strength back, but he sure has stamina! I thought things like this only happened in books.
He looks tired today. But he always looks tired these days. Today is different. He's tired, but his smiles reach his eyes. And I have looked up at him twice, catching him smiling at me with memories in his eyes. Good memories.
Maybe we've turned a corner.
If not, I'm sure willing to do more of the therapy!
He's a great guy, but he makes me SO mad sometimes.
I've been doing my regular kinds of investigations FINE for MONTHS without the big S around to save me. I'm fine. But he gets all protective and freaky at the thought of me pulling my old Mad Dog Lane stunts.
To be fair, he's not even aware he's doing it sometimes. But today, today I could have killed him. If that gang didn't kill him first. They had Kryptonite. He's still got that allergy, whether or not he's Super right now. But would he let me go in by myself? Nooooo. He had to protect me. So we barely escaped with our lives and the bad guys got away all because…
he wouldn't listen.
Oh god, Now I know why I've always frustrated him so much! Not that I'm going to admit this to him right now. I'm mad at him! But it makes a little more sense now.
He's really getting back into the job. I think he's glad to be busy with things that aren't related to that whole New Krypton (NOT) disaster. He's enrolled in martial arts classes with me, because he needs the exercise and the balance and the focus you get from those kind of classes.
In short he's pulling his life back together. Our lives. It's so great to be a part of a team again, even if that means little fights here and there. The making up is worth it!
Well, guess what we did this weekend? I am now Mrs. Clark Kent.
I can't believe it.
I honestly thought this would never happen. We decided we'd do it while we could. Not waiting for anyone else to stop us with plans and machinations.
We took a long weekend — with the blessings of Perry. Apparently Clark's whole New Krypton, life on another planet, war on another planet, science on another planet, etc etc series really did wonders for Planet circulation. So even though we really don't have any vacation time coming — rather, Clark doesn't have any coming, Perry shooed us away.
It kind of made me jealous that cracking the last of the Intergang syndicate didn't get a headline, but finding the REAL ship that Clark came to earth in originally made up for that.
So anyway, we decided to go away for the weekend. As far away as we could go. We went to the mountains. We hiked and biked and sat in the yellow sun that makes him strong. We were sitting on the edge of a lake, just listening to the earth. He turned to me and said, 'Do you know that, in Vermont, you don't need blood tests and all of that mumbo jumbo to get married. Just two willing adults with ID and a Justice of the Peace.'
He looked back at the water again. I got up and held my hand down to him. "Well, what are we waiting for?"
As we walked down the hill to the b&b we were staying in, we decided to call his parents. They didn't seem at all opposed to the idea, seeing all that had happened to stop it before. "We just want to see you two kids happy. We don't care if we don't see the ceremony."
And I could tell they meant it. Have I said before what wonderful people they are?
We tried calling my mother. She was still officially not speaking to me, but I thought it would make her even angrier if I didn't at least inform her of the wedding. She answered the phone and my excited news with a "Well, Lois, if you think you can trust him, then I guess that's your business. I just want you to be happy." I let it go. It was easy to let it go, because Clark was there, rubbing my shoulders, telling me that, in Ellen's way, she had given her blessing to the marriage. She hadn't refused!
Then we called Perry. He's like a surrogate father to me, and he's always been Clark's biggest cheerleader at the Planet. When everyone else was acting like I should put him behind me, Perry would pull me into his office and we'd talk about a story Clark had written or whatever. Keeping him alive for me. He never let anyone else have Clark's desk. So we thought we needed to share this with him.
He was ecstatic. We got an extra two days off (for a full week — we'll go in on Saturday to catch up on stuff), and he'll save us the trouble of having to announce this to everyone.
We didn't change clothes. We just went to the courthouse. It was a Monday afternoon, and there was a man there who was willing and able to do the job for us.
Funny, I don't remember what I was wearing or what Clark was wearing. We both had our rings on chains around our necks.
I remember the vows. The look in his eye as he promised to love me for always. The sound of my voice as I took him as my lawfully wedded husband.
There was no pomp, no circumstance. We paid a quarter for parking and $5 for the licence and $50 for the entire ceremony. It was the best day of my life. Autumn in the mountains will always hold these memories for me.
In a way, I don't want to announce it. I want to keep it between just us. Clark feels the same, I know. So much of his life has been public recently. Wherever we go, we know people are there, wanting to ask questions and just bothering us. It's been over four months, and still we get followed.
And people will talk. I'm so sick of them talking about me or about him or about us. This is private.
If they just want to share our happiness, then that's okay. There's more than enough to go around in the Lane-Kent household these days!
We're driving back to New Troy right now. The roads aren't too crowded since it's a weekday, and Clark handles the car so well. I think I'll take a nap. Though dreams these days pale in comparison to reality.
Showing up at work wasn't as bad as we feared. Only one comment from Ralph (something about a shotgun, though when Clark told him where to place the cartridges, he rapidly left us alone).
Perry placed an announcement in the Planet last week — small and tasteful. The gossip columnist in the Star tried to make something of it, but surprisingly, no one really seems to care. Maybe now we can go back to being investigative journalists!
I've been looking over this journal. Such an emotional rollercoaster. But I have only written in it when I was either very happy or very sad. So I guess that's okay.
Things have been so… normal for the last few months. I don't even know how we're going to back to sharing with S if we ever have to. It's so nice to be a normal couple.
He's not 'super' at all right now, at least not physically. He still speaks a zillion languages, but the hearing and vision and all that is normal human-variety. I think it depresses him a little bit. But in a way, I think he is relieved that he doesn't have all that responsibility right now. And I think that relief makes him feel a little guilty.
Most of the time, we spend the extra time together, either just reading in the same room or going for long walks in the park or whatever.
His nightmares are rare now. He looks healthy and strong. And he is strong, if not Strong.
He's been working on memoirs of his trip to New Krypton. Compiling the information from his articles — fleshing out more details and adding more information. He's had many offers for this book, and the Planet is behind him 100%. It keeps him busy, and I think he's working out the last of his issues through it.
We don't get to see nearly enough of Martha and Jonathan these days. It's expensive to fly out there as often as we would like. And now we're saving money for a house.
I can hardly believe it. I didn't think I'd ever really want a house. But this place is getting kind of cramped, and I miss my own furniture.
Clark's really learning how to handle me. He mentioned the idea of a house in passing about 6 weeks ago. He didn't bring it up again until I did. I think he knew the idea of that kind of responsibility would throw me for a loop. But I'm getting used to it. We even looked around a little bit this weekend. Clark's busy with the book, so he's really not pushing this at all.
I'm taking it at my own pace, which is pretty slow since work is so brutal these days. I guess the Christmas Spirit hasn't reached the criminal element of Metropolis.
We've found the house. It's a 'fixer-upper' on Parkside. Not the best neighborhood, but it's getting better. The house is a three-story stone Victorian with a small yard and a garage. The price is right because it really is a 'fixer-upper'! Clark's putting the finishing touches on his manuscript, so we'll both have time to work on it. I never saw myself as the kind of person who could get excited about a house. But I am.
I think it's because it represents a stability that I've never really had but always wanted. I get that stability in my life with Clark. This is just the outward representation of it.
We moved into our house today. Clark got a big advance on his book, and we put a chunk of it toward the house. We have a new roof and furnace and air conditioner. We're going to do the other rooms and wiring for those rooms as we go along. For now, it's nice to be moving into the house.
Everything is going so well. Why do I feel as though the other shoe is ready to drop?
Well, I'd like to say 'oops' but I can't. I think a part of me did this on purpose.
I'm gonna be a mamma.
Clark's gonna be a daddy.
What have we done?
Of course, we can be excused. When we first got together, Clark went to Dr. Klein and asked him if Superman could reproduce with a human female. The results of the test indicated that the answer was no. But when we looked more closely at the test results, it wasn't the genetic makeup that they had a problem with. The sperm themselves had some kind of — shell — for lack of a better word. I guess that shell went away with the rest of his powers. And trying to find a logical solution for this is about the only thing that is keeping me calm.
I'm so scared. What kind of parent am I going to be? I know what Clark will say. But I also know my past. What if I end up just like my father or my mother? Can I stop those responses, ingrained in me from birth? I don't know.
I just have to keep reminding myself that I'm not alone. I'll never be alone. And together, this family can overcome anything.
Clark is ecstatic. I guess I knew he would be. But I still had a small sigh of relief when he whirled me around in the air.
First a house and now this. I don't know if I'm ready.
But here it comes, ready or not.
It's strange, though. As I place my hand on my stomach, I know I would do anything to protect this life in me now.
It looks like our days of peace are coming to an end. Today, we were working on the nursery. Clark was finishing up the insulation and wiring, and I was spackling the dry wall. A piece of the stuff was leaning against the wall for Clark to finish installing. Apparently, it was not well balanced. It started to fall on me, though I didn't know it. Faster than you can see, Clark was across the room, holding it off me.
He heard it falling.
He moved Super fast.
I guess his powers are coming back.
I don't know how I feel about that. I mean, I'm glad for Clark. I think he's felt, well, incomplete without his powers. But I will certainly miss all the together time that his incapacitation has given us.
I'm so selfish!
Looking on the bright side, it will help us get the house done more quickly, I guess.
The powers came back slowly. I mean, he didn't do anything more than move more quickly than average for a few weeks. Then the vision started coming back. Then the strength.
He's just about back to full power now.
He flew out to Kansas this weekend (courtesy of American West) so he could do some more thorough testing. I wanted to go with him, but we both are a little sensitive about doing things that might endanger the baby. I'm starting my second trimester now, but I just want to be extra careful.
So he flew out to Kansas and he Flew while he was in Kansas. He's still a little hesitant of how far or how fast he can fly, but he can fly again. So the last of his powers is back.
Now we have to figure out how to announce to the world that Superman is back. If we're going to announce it at all. I guess the Planet would be the logical place. We can write the story and have a simultaneous landing. I think he was a little worried about how he's going to explain the situation on New Krypton. He hasn't got any more information than Clark had — god it's so confusing to talk about him as two people again…
Then, a visitor. Kind of. Apparently, the new K'er's figured he might have this problem. They rigged him up with an intergalactic receiver. He hasn't gotten anything on it since he came back. Until tonight. There was an information package waiting for him. It's a few weeks old, but that's not too bad. We can say Superman spent those weeks in transport. It's almost too easy. But after all we've gone through, I guess some gifts from fate are owing.
This morning was so awful. Superman got called out early — now that they know he's back, people are calling for him all the time again — so I had to wake up alone.
Then, none of my clothes fit. I mean, come on! I'm watching what I eat, and I'm exercising, and I just bought some of these clothes. I'm getting a pretty big stomach ALREADY. It seems too early — even though I didn't know I was pregnant right away, I'm still just at the beginning of the second trimester. I've worked so hard for this body, now it's going down the drain.
Then, I had a doctor's appointment today. I hate going to the doctors. But I have to do it a lot now. And did she have a surprise for me.
We're not having a baby.
We're having 3 babies. Plural. Triplets.
It's such a lois lane maneuver. Never do things like a normal person. I could have handled twins. I think.
Clark is just as stunned as I am.
How are we going to do this?
Started Nov 2000
finished Dec 2001
Thanks to Lote for proofing this for me. It seemed disjointed to me because I started it so long ago… in the era bb (before baby). But being obsessive-compulsive, I wanted to finish it. And finished it is. Amen. (now for those other 3 fics waiting…