Ten Years in the Making
Anonpip <anonpip@gmail.com>
Rated: PG
Submitted: May 2008


Author's Note: All characters are the property of Warner Bros,
December 3rd Productions, ABC, and anyone else who may have a
legal claim on them. The story, however, is mine.

While most of this was written without a beta-reader, I have to
thank all the people who commented on this on the boards. You
all helped to shape this story considerably from where it first
started. A special thanks to Beth, who did beta-read parts of
this and made each section she BR'ed better. Also to Ann, who
must have spent countless hours typing up feedback on the
boards. As one of the people most staunchly opposed to large
parts of this story, her comments challenged me to make this
story more palatable to those who found it hard to believe Clark
would make this choice. And lastly, but certainly not least, to
my husband, who while he refused to beta-read for me, developed
an annoying habit of reading over my shoulder as I wrote, making
corrections. As payment for this, he was forced to listen to me
talk about the challenges I was having with it and as a result,
many of the more creative ideas in here are actually his, not
mine.

Also thanks to Rona who GE'ed this monster and did so incredibly
quickly! Thanks, Rona!

Just a note for ease of reading: "******" reflects a passage of
time. "~~~~~~" reflects a flashback.

********************************************

"Tonight on NewsWire: Where are they now? Ten years ago this
month, Metropolis was set to live in the past. For most of us in
states from California to Illinois to New York, the names Bonnie
and Clyde are right out of the history books we studied as
children. But, in 1994, the residents of Metropolis met Bonnie
and Clyde in the flesh, as well as other old timers like John H.
Dillinger. Thanks to the work of Professor Emil Hamilton, these
former gangsters had a brief stint at enjoying life yet again."
Norah Jackson, the lead anchor of NewsWire, smiled into the
camera.

Martha Kent glanced over at her son as the tape rolled in the
background. The episode of NewsWire had aired last night, but
Clark had been in Malaysia helping the victims of an earthquake.
He had asked her to tape this for him if he was not back in
time, but she was not sure why. Reminding himself of the past
was not helpful and if she had any doubt of that before now,
watching the emotions play across her son's face washed them all
away.

Jonathan caught her eye from across the room and smiled at her
reassuringly. Martha smiled back, but the move was somewhat
painful. It reminded her of the emotional support Jonathan
provided. She wanted that for Clark, too, but she knew he was
unlikely to ever find a relationship like this.

The sound of the television brought her attention back to the
news program.

"Lois Lane of the Daily Planet finally uncovered the issue with
none other than James Olsen, who was an all-around office gopher
at the time. Although Lane and Hamilton did have a harrowing
night as Clyde tried to submerge them in cement, with the aid of
Olsen and Metropolis' resident superhero at the time, Superman,
they fared rather well. Lane was able to call the police before
anyone was injured during a memorial service at the Daily
Planet.

"Olsen and others at the party ensured that none of the revived
gangsters escaped, and all are now living out life sentences in
jail. However, not all the details in this story were wrapped up
so neatly. When we return, a look at what happened to this man
and what it meant to the members of the newspaper he worked
for."

The screen went black on an image of Clark before a jingle for a
new flavor of soda filled the room. Jonathan aimed the remote
control at the VCR, fast-forwarding the tape, glancing over at
Clark while he did so. Jonathan and Martha shared another look.
Clark had yet to say anything and his face was a mask – no
emotion showing whatsoever and all his muscles taut. Jonathan
had never seen Clark look so much like Superman in his own home
before.

Letting up on the remote control, the program started again.
"Bonnie and Clyde are believed to have killed over a dozen
people during the Great Depression. In 1994, there was only one
fatality – Clark Kent, a reporter at the Daily Planet." Again,
the television screen showed an image of Clark. It was the
standard image the Daily Planet had used on occasion next to
Clark's byline. "Kent had been at the Daily Planet for about a
year and a half at the time and nothing showcases how well he
was liked by his peers more than the implications his death had
on the people around him. 

"Take Perry White, for example. White had been editor of the
Planet for years, having started there right after high school
as a researcher and working his way up."

The screen shot moved off the still image of Perry and onto a
taped interview. Under the image of Perry, hair whiter than it
had been ten years ago, but the lines of his face softer, the
words "Perry White – Former Editor of the Daily Planet" were
written.

"The Planet was a home to me," Perry said, looking into the
camera. "More so than my own home. The reporters were my family.
Clark hadn't been there as long as some of the others, but there
was something about him. He was good – always able to bring in
strong, front page stories, but there was a softness to him as
well – he cared about the world around him and that was clear.
Losing him was like losing a son. For months afterwards, I would
look out at the bullpen from my office and see Kent's empty desk
and think of what it shame it was for such a young man to lose
his life so senselessly. We wrote about stories like that
everyday, and Clark was not the first reporter that I'd lost.
But, it was rare for someone on the city beat to be lost like
that. It meant I knew him better than the other reporters I'd
mourned, and so it hit me harder, but I don't think he died in
vain. Clark wanted the people around him to live life to the
fullest, and his death helped me do that.

"One night, after he'd been there for about a year, Clark was
working late. He was the only one left while I got ready to
leave. When I stopped by his desk to suggest he go home, he
looked at me with sadness in his eyes and said he had work to do
and he didn't have anyone to go home to, anyway. There was no
judgment in his voice as he said, 'If I had someone at home that
loved me as much as Alice loves you, I would have been gone
hours ago.' I brushed the comment off that night – for years I
had always taken for granted the fact that my wife would be
waiting for me when I got home. After Clark died, that night
came back to me and I realized he was right. He died before he
had a chance for that, but I hadn't and I was letting it slip
away. I started going home earlier each night. I remembered how
much I loved my wife in a way I hadn't in years. I retired less
than a year after Clark's death and it was the best thing for
me. Alice and I have never been happier."

Martha caught a faint smile cross Clark's face, and she reached
over and grabbed his hand, squeezing it. He turned to her
briefly, still smiling, but tears shown in his eyes.

"White is not the only one who credits Kent's death with driving
him to move forward in life. James Olsen was just a gopher at
the Planet when Kent died, but he credits his current success to
Kent." The screen flashed on an old shot of Jimmy – a party hat
on and his head thrown back in laughter - before landing on a
more recent image as an interview with Jimmy came on-screen.
Jimmy was wearing a suit, and while he looked a few years older,
time had been good to him.

"CK was different than the other reporters," Jimmy started.
"Right from the start, he looked lost and like he wanted to make
friends. The Planet wasn't just a job to him. There was
something refreshing about that. For Perry, Lois, and me, the
Planet was our lives and we cared about each other, but that
caring came from late nights working near each other. We didn't
spend much time fostering the relationship – it just happened
over many late hours and early mornings, but CK quickly became
important to all of us. Not just because he was there for those
late hours and early mornings, but because he got to know us, to
figure out who we were, aside from work-a-holics. Of course, it
was hard not to respect him as well as like him. Not only was he
a great writer, but he could put up with Lois.

"CK often seemed soft and clumsy, and when Perry paired him up
with Lois we all thought he wouldn't last a month. But there was
more to CK than we thought, and from the first time Lois started
ranting at him, Clark ranted right back. While they continued to
argue constantly the entire time they were partners, it only
took weeks for Lois to learn to respect CK. That was all it
took. Earning Lois' respect meant Clark earned everyone's.

"It was this perseverance I tried to learn from CK - his ability
to clearly care about others, and yet stand up for himself when
he felt he was right. 

"After Perry left, the Planet was a different place. The mood of
the newsroom had never recovered from the somber tone CK's death
brought to the place. When Lois left shortly after Clark died,
it was just another blow. I wasn't surprised when Perry told me
he was going to retire a few months later. I started thinking
about what I was going to do. The Planet no longer felt like
home to me and I wasn't sure I wanted to stay.

"CK had tried to convince me to go back to college at night
several times. He kept telling me that I had all these
opportunities, and since I wasn't sure what I wanted to do, I
should cultivate all of them so that I had my choice when I
decided. I had always felt too busy before, and besides, Perry
was finally letting me write a little, which was one of the
things I wanted to do, but when he left, I decided to give
college a try. I took photography classes at first, but then
added computer classes. I was already quite good at using
computers, but I remembered Clark telling me that having a
degree would make it easier to get a job. 

"I met Pam and Chris my final semester. I was playing around
with the idea of starting my own company creating software for
newspapers – different applications that worked together – a
word processor, a layout editor, and a database search. These
applications all existed, but didn't work together at all yet,
so at the Planet we were constantly moving between computer
systems. The best search software ran on a UNIX system.
Microsoft clearly had the lock on the word processing market,
and so all the reporters had a PC on their desk and the layout
people were using Macs. Moving between the systems caused
multiple issues and was one of the most common complaints around
the newsroom.

"When I mentioned this idea to Chris during a class, he was
interested in helping me. We set up CompuNews right after
graduation and released the first version of NewsRoom six months
later. With my contacts at the Planet, we gained traction fast
and it didn't take long for CompuNews to be a billion-dollar
company. Pam and I got married right after we released NewsRoom
2.0 and had our first son a year later. We named him CK, as I
have no doubt Clark is the reason I am where I am now. Without
those talks ten years ago, I'd probably still be working my way
up at the Planet, and I never would have met Pam."

Jimmy disappeared from screen as Norah reappeared. "But what
about the person Kent worked most closely with at the Daily
Planet? When we return, we try to trace the path of Lois Lane
since the day she lost her partner." The screen shot showed an
old Daily Planet poster from a series Perry had shot of Lois and
Clark with the words, "The Hottest Team in Town" on each. Lois
and Clark were facing each other, fists raised. On this version,
the headline read "The Toughest Team in Town".
 
Jonathan fast-forwarded through commercials once more. He could
feel the tension rolling off Clark from halfway across the room,
and it only increased when the program restarted with an except
from Perry's interview: "I teamed Lois and Clark up as soon as
he joined the Planet. Clark's writing had a softness Lois'
lacked and I thought together they'd be golden." 

The screen moved back to Norah who continued from there, "Lois
Lane was already a three-time Kerth winner by the time Kent
joined the Planet. Kent won his only Kerth just months before
his death, but the pair never won the award together the way
White expected." 

Perry's face reappeared on the screen. "I was a little worried
at first for Clark – Lois was difficult to work with, and I had
lost good reporters once or twice before who couldn't deal with
her and felt so burned they wouldn't stick around when I agreed
to split them up." Perry laughed a little at the memory. "But
not Clark. The look he gave Lois the first time he met her
wasn't lost on me, but I counted on the fact that Lois'
hard-bitten personality would quickly kill Clark's crush. No one
was more surprised then me when it didn't work – Clark never
stopped looking enamored with her…" The screen showed an image
at an office party. Clark was facing Lois, and the look of care
on his face was clear. Martha felt the hand in hers stiffen
further.

"But more surprisingly, he put up with her." Perry's face again
appeared on-screen. "And Lois slowly started to accept Clark as
her partner. I didn't realize how close they had become, how
much Clark had come to mean to Lois as well, until the Luthor
debacle. Standing outside Lex Corp in her wedding gown, one of
the first things Lois said to me was, 'Where is Clark?' and when
he appeared beside her, she nearly threw herself into his arms.
I'd never seen Lois so… soft before. Never seen her let her
guard down." Perry's voice trailed off, and as he looked up
again there was grief in his eyes. "At the time, I was glad she
was allowing herself to relax enough to be herself with someone,
and I hoped that as she got over the blow of Luthor, perhaps she
would let her relationship with Clark develop into something
more. Now I think I may have made a mistake."

The screen moved back to Norah Jackson. "Two months after Kent's
death, Lane's byline had still not appeared on the front page of
the Planet since the article about Bonnie and Clyde. When she
quit suddenly, her colleagues were not surprised, but they
expected that in a few months she would recover and come back.
However, it was two years before anyone saw her byline again,
and that was on page 7 of an issue of The Boston Globe. Only her
old colleagues at the Planet and those at the Globe even noticed
how far she had fallen. 

"Lane lasted at the Globe for no more than a year, never
bringing in a big story, and when her byline was seen again six
months later for Long Island Newsday, it was only for small
pieces – things like local dog shows. She stayed at Newsday for
five years, but a year ago she quit the paper and no one has
seen her byline since then. White and Olsen have lost touch with
her. According to them, she stopped returning calls and emails.
She sent a present to Olsen for his wedding, but did not
attend."

"Clark's death was hard on her," Perry said as his interview
again took center stage. "There was no question by that point
that the two were close friends." The screen moved to showing a
montage of pictures of Lois and Clark – most looked like candid
shots taken by Jimmy in the newsroom. There was an image of
Clark leaning over Lois' shoulder at her computer screen,
followed by one of them facing each other, clearly fighting. A
candid from the shoot for the poster shown earlier was next –
Lois and Clark's fists were raised, but both were laughing –
followed by an image of an office birthday party with Lois
perched on Clark's lap before the screen moved back to Perry.
"She just wasn't herself afterward. She blamed herself for
Clark's death, as he had been protecting her at the time. I knew
even then that Clark would have done anything for Lois, but no
one could have known it would lead to his death. Jimmy and I
tried making plans with her, getting her out of the newsroom. We
tried to get her to see that Clark's death wasn't her fault, but
she clammed up. She had really blossomed and opened up during
the time she'd worked with Clark, but after his death she got
even quieter than she had been before she met him. Rather than
standoffish and biting as she had been before, now she was shy
and guarded. Clark wouldn't have wanted that; he loved her
feisty side – you could see it in the way his eyes would light
up when Lois would get all riled up, even if she was yelling at
him at the time. It felt like two of my closest friends died
that day, rather than one." 

The screen's shot closed this time on an image from the night
Clark died. It was taken inside the club – Lois in her red dress
and Clark in his jacket and tie. The two were sitting next to
each other, facing forward with their bodies leaning in towards
each other. Clark's arm was draped casually over Lois' shoulders
and the happiness on both their faces was unmistakable.

Jonathan picked up the remote to fast-forward again, but before
the program restarted he heard the familiar whoosh and looked
towards the door his son had just flown through.

********************************************

Clark moved as fast as he could away from the earth, trying to
distance himself from the place he called home. It had been ten
years – it should not have hurt so much, but it was hard to
forget the pain. Clark Kent had died that day, and although he
had desperately wanted to, he had not been able to find a
reasonable way to bring him back. For awhile, he had thought it
might be okay to stick around Metropolis as Superman. It was not
the life he wanted, but at least he would get to be around Lois.
But Lois did not want to see him when he tried to stop by after
she cracked the Hamilton case. She just looked at him sadly. 

"I know you can't be everywhere at once, Superman," she had
said, "So, I knew one day you may not be there for me. I just
wish it hadn't been a day when Clark was the one in danger, not
me. I'm sorry – I know it's my fault that Clark died, but seeing
you just reminds me of him. It's too painful. Please, just go
away."

Clark had left that night, certain that if he gave it enough
time, Lois would move on and welcome Superman back into her life
again, but she continued to seem depressed and uninterested in
seeing him until she moved to Boston. And as she took smaller
and smaller stories, her constant need for being saved
disappeared and he had no good reason to see her.

He had looked for her after she left Long Island, just to know
where she was, but he had not yet located her. Martha had tried
to determine if anyone at NewsWire had any ideas when they
called the Kents a few weeks ago looking for quotes for the
program they were doing on the impact of Clark's death, but the
news program was not interested in being helpful since Martha
and Jonathan had declined being on the show.

As for Superman, his affinity for Metropolis left with Lois. He
had helped his parents pack up his belongs months earlier when
they had gone to Metropolis to plan a memorial service for him.
Since then, Smallville had been his home base, although he came
and went quietly so his parents would not be linked to the
superhero. He knew he had to do something else. His parents were
getting older and they could not support him forever, but he
kept putting off the decision, hoping he could live off the farm
after they passed away.

Superman's exit from Metropolis was noticed, but with little
fanfare. He still patrolled the city regularly, as he did other
large cities. As he did not need to leave time for Clark's life,
he was able to maintain a similar presence in Metropolis while
being more visible in other large cities around the world as
well. So while the press noted that Superman was less
exclusively seen in Metropolis, after a few questions about why
he suddenly had extra time on his hands, which Clark evaded
successfully, everyone just happily accepted the new status
quo.

Clark drifted among the stars, trying to calm himself down. If
only there had been a way to let Lois know that he was all
right, but without a real way to bring Clark Kent back, it just
seemed cruel. Clark needed to remain dead, and so it would be
easier for Lois to just believe that he was.

Hearing a loud rumbling sound, Clark lowered himself below cloud
level. He scanned the area of the Pacific he was floating above
carefully, and even from this distance could make out the tidal
wave making its way towards Indonesia. Clark shot down out of
the sky, diving into the ocean.

********************************************

He was tired. Clark had perfected the method of stopping tidal
waves years earlier, but it never got less grueling, and so he
was flying slower than normal over the California coastline on
his way back to Smallville. Hearing a shout below, he saw an
apartment building on fire and flew down to help. He swept into
the building and grabbed the first woman he saw. Setting her
down, he asked quickly if she was okay. She was sobbing, her
black hair a mess around her young face. She was in her early
thirties and looked familiar to Clark, but he did not even try
to remember who she was as he raced back into the building.

He heard her voice as he moved away from her, "My sister is
still inside with my daughter." As Clark made his way back into
the apartment he heard fire engines coming down the street.
Luckily, it was the middle of the day and the building seemed to
be mostly empty aside from the apartment he was in. Moving to
the back bedroom, Clark spotted the woman with the toddler in
her arms looking out the window and screaming for help.

Grabbing her from behind, Clark flew both the woman and the
child to the pavement next to her sister. The fire chief came
over immediately. "Thanks, Superman. I think we can handle it
from here."

Clark smiled at him before turning back to the family. "Are you
all right?" he asked, taking them in. 

Catching sight of her face, he took a step backwards. 

"Superman?" she asked softly.

"Lois," he answered, his voice just as soft. Things clicked into
place in his mind. The young woman was Lucy – that was why she
had looked familiar.

Of its own volition, Clark's hand raised to Lois' face. "Lois,"
he said again, as he stroked her cheek, smudging it with some
black smut that was on his fingers from the fire. Neither
noticed.

"You… you…" Lois took a step back and shook her head. Schooling
her features, she looked at him again. "How are you, Superman?"

"I'm okay. I hope you are well, Lois?" Clark kept a tight reign
on his emotions. He desperately wanted to pull Lois into his
arms and bury his head in her hair, but knew that was not a
possibility. At least he had gotten to her in time.

"I'm okay, too," Lois said.

Clark gave a tight smile. He was not sure of the appropriate
response here. Should he stay and offer to catch up, or just
take off? Were Lois and Superman really friends?

The fire chief came back as they stood facing each other. "It
looks like everything is okay. The fire started a few floors
above you," he said to Lois and Lucy, "and it was well
contained. You should be able to go back in a couple of hours."

Superman smiled at Lucy who was holding her daughter tightly to
her. "I'm glad you are all right. It was good to see you again,
Lois," he said, glancing at her. 

Smiling at them for another moment, he raised his arm above his
head and took off.

********************************************

Fueled by surprise, Clark's flight home was faster than it had
been prior to stopping in California. Still, the farmhouse was
quiet when he approached. He had been in Indonesia most of the
night and subsequent day and it was now early evening in Kansas.
Both his parents were in the barn closing things up for the
night.

Entering the house, Clark spotted a plate of food his mother had
left for him. He was not hungry, but did not want the gesture to
seem unappreciated, so he ate quickly before showering and
climbing into bed.

Clark's eyes closed on the picture he kept by his bedside – Lois
and him at the Kerth awards, Lois holding tightly to his arm,
the two of them laughing. He had cherished that night – and not
just for the Kerth he had won.

He felt like he and Lois had turned a corner – when he was
nominated she was jealous and her behavior was typical Mad Dog
Lane. However, by the night of the awards she had grudgingly
agreed to go as his date, and he was surprised at her attitude
when they arrived at the awards banquet.

All traces of her earlier jealousy appeared to be gone – she had
been the perfect date with no words of jealousy or references to
the articles she had written in the past year. Early in the
evening, before the ceremony, Lois had drifted off to speak with
an old colleague who now worked at the New York Times.
Approaching her later, Clark had unconsciously listened in to
the exchange.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Still, you've written some amazing articles this year, Lois,"
Matthew said. "You must be at least a little miffed at being
passed over in favor of a newcomer like Kent."
 
Lois' back straightened slightly and her voice had a firmness to
it as she replied, "I'm guessing you haven't read Clark's
article, Matthew. If you had, you would see that there is no
shame in being quote unquote passed over for Clark. His article
was fantastic, and I'm lucky to have snatched Clark up as my
partner while he was a newcomer, before everyone else discovered
just how amazing he is to work with."

When Clark approached her, placing his hand lightly on her back,
she smiled at him warmly and introduced him to Matthew. She said
nothing about the exchange, even later, and Clark never would
have known had it not been for his super hearing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was moments like this that Clark remembered now - moments
when the hard exterior Lois had perfected to guard herself was
placed aside for an instant; moments that showed that Lois had
cared for Clark even if not with the same admiration she had for
Superman.

She had looked older today; her eyes held a pain he longed to
erase. Despite that, she had been beautiful. Her hair was long,
falling to midway down her back and the style suited her well.

Clark sighed – he always felt better knowing where Lois was,
even if he could not see her.

********************************************

Waking a few hours later, Clark felt refreshed. Glancing at the
clock, he realized it was 10 p.m. and his parents, who were up
early with the farm, would be in bed. Going downstairs to
rummage for some food, he found another plate waiting for him in
the refrigerator. He smiled. He had tried telling his mom not to
do that – that she did not need to cater to his strange schedule
– but she had insisted. "I'm your mother, Clark," she had said.
"It's my job." When Clark insisted that it was not her fault her
grown son lived at home and had a job with unreliable hours, she
had smiled warmly at him. "Of course it's not my fault, honey.
It's my blessing."

Each time Clark found food waiting for him, he remembered this
exchange and it helped to ease the pain he felt inside. He knew
he was lucky to have his parents. They were the one thing that
made being Superman full time bearable.

Bringing the plate of food his mother had left him to the
microwave, he placed it inside. He poured himself a glass of
milk while his dinner heated and had nearly finished the milk
when he ran over to grab the plate before the machine beeped.

Sitting down at the table, Clark dug in. The food was good as it
often was – his mom was a great cook. He grimaced when he hit a
cold patch in his mashed potatoes, but gave it a short blast of
heat vision and it barely interrupted his eating.

Placing his plate and silverware in the dishwasher, Clark
stretched. It was time to fly to Metropolis and do his nightly
patrol. Given that he had been in Indonesia last night, he
thought he should also do a fast patrol of New York and
Washington DC. He would deal with the rest of world tomorrow.

Or at least, that was the plan, but when he finished the patrol
in DC, he felt energized. It had been a quiet night and he had
finished quickly. So, Clark decided to head west and do a patrol
of Seattle and San Francisco while he was up. As he approached
the west coast, however, he started turning south rather than
north.

Before long, he found himself doing what could only be called a
perfunctory patrol of San Diego before landing in front of an
apartment complex in downtown. Clark figured it had been a
couple of hours since he woke up, so it was likely close to 11
p.m. here now. Looking at the windows in front of him confirmed
that this was a good estimate. About half the apartments were
dark; the others had only one or two lights shining.

Knowing that this was a bad idea, but powerless to stop himself,
Clark floated up to the third floor, hovering outside a window
on the corner. Looking inside, he came face-to-face with Lucy's
daughter. She was holding on to the edge of her crib and
standing to look out the window.

Seeing Clark made her giggle, and Clark, forgetting himself for
a moment, began making funny faces at her. She laughed harder,
encouraging him. It only took a few moments for the room to
flood with light and Lucy and Lois to come inside to see what
was causing the laughter. Lucy had seen him as she entered the
room and was smiling slightly. Whoever would have imagined
Superman making funny faces at a child?

Walking over to the window, she opened it. Still smiling, she
said, "You know, it's hours past her bedtime, Superman. She's
supposed to be asleep."

Clark looked appropriately chastised, "I'm sorry. I was just
coming to see if you were okay and she was looking out the
window.

Lucy smiled. Somewhere in the back of her mind she was surprised
she had been able to tease Superman so normally, but given how
normal his reaction was, she knew she would be able to do it
again. For all his powers, he was still a man before everything
else.

Her voice softer, she said, "I was kidding. Sammy never goes to
sleep when she's supposed to. Why don't you come around to the
front and I'll let you in?"

Clark smiled at her, moving over to the door. Lois was standing
in the doorway, her eyes appraising him. Entering, Clark saw
Lucy behind her with Sammy in her arms and a young man next to
them.

Lucy seemed to be the only one in control of her voice.
Motioning towards Superman, she said, "Sean, this is Superman.
He's a friend of Lois'. Superman, this is my husband, Sean. And
you've met Sammy."

Clark smiled again at the little girl and then held his hand out
to Sean. "It's nice to meet you." Sean gaped for a moment, but
Lucy gave him a light whack on the back and he grasped Clark's
hand.

Finally finding his voice, Sean smiled at Clark, "Thanks for
your help today with the fire." 

Clark smiled back. "It's my job."

Lois gave out a choked cry and all eyes moved to her. "Lo?" Lucy
asked.

Without a word, Lois spun around and walked into a room behind
her, closing the door.

Clark stared after her, not sure what to do. Looking at the
floor, his voice quiet, he said, "I guess I should go. I didn't
mean to upset her."

Lucy looked at him closely. It was amazing how much she was
getting to know Superman as a person today. 

"Don't go, Superman; I'm sure she wants to see you. You should
go in; I'm sure she'll tell you what's wrong." Lucy hoped
Superman would stay. Ever since Lois had lost her partner at the
Daily Planet, she had been moody and unpredictable. In some
ways, this had been good for Lucy – knowing that she could no
longer count on her sister to pick up the pieces of her life had
made Lucy grow up. But Lucy worried about her sister and hoped
that having someone from Lois' past around, someone else who had
known Clark, would help Lois finally move past the guilt she
held for Clark's death.

Clark looked at her, not at all certain that Lucy was correct,
but when Sammy nodded encouragingly at him, he took small steps
towards the door Lois had dashed behind.

Knocking softly he called out, "Lois? Can I come in?"

As his super-hearing picked up the sound of her crying through
the door, he nearly turned around and left, but then Lois called
out a timid hello.

Clark opened the door and stood in the doorway. Whether or not
he was giving his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness, or
himself some time to prepare for this conversation, he was not
sure. As he stood there, Lois walked up to him. In a gesture
that unconsciously mimicked Clark's from earlier in the day,
Lois ran a hand along Clark's cheek.

Her voice surprisingly strong through her tears, Lois asked,
"It's you, isn't it?"

"What?" Clark replied, his voice hoarse. He cleared his throat,
but was not convinced that would help as Lois continued to run
her hands lightly over his face. 

In reply, Lois reached down and grabbed Clark's hand leading him
over to the bed. She sat down, her hold on his hand causing him
to follow. When he was settled, she continued her exploration of
his face, this time letting her hands fall onto his shoulders,
across his chest, down his spine. Clark found himself holding
his breath.

As her hands finally stilled from their exploration, Lois looked
up at him, smiling thinly. "I don't know how I never noticed
before." She was nearly whispering.

Clark continued to watch her, not sure what to say, not even
clear what it was she was saying.

"I'm sorry for running out earlier," Lois said, her voice still
firm but soft. "I didn't mean to. It was just that you said it's
your job to help and well, it's not. I guess it's important to
remember that. It's not your job and it's not fair to get angry
at you when you can't be there."

Clark continued to look confused and so Lois continued, "I
blamed you for not showing up that night. I was so angry at you.
I'm not anymore; now I'm just sad. I so wish you had shown up.
Of course, now I think maybe you were there, and I don't
understand at all."

Clark pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to clear his head.
As his hand moved back down to his lap, Lois gasped.

"It IS you," she repeated her words from earlier, but more
emphatically this time. "This morning, I saw it, but just for a
moment. I wasn't even sure it was real, but when I thought about
it later it all made sense. I was still sure I was crazy, but
it's like now that I see it, I can't stop seeing it." There was
a pause while Clark tried to grab a hold of the conversation. 

Lois smiled brightly for a moment and then lunged at him.
"You're alive! Oh my… you're here!" she exclaimed, wrapping her
arms tightly around him.

Clark's arms moved around Lois' of their own accord. Lois leaned
back slightly to look into his eyes, and then with her voice
very solemn said, "You know, I've wanted to tell you this for 10
years…" She paused to delicately run her hands over his cheek
again and then in a soft voice finished, "I'm in love with you,
Clark Kent."

Clark gasped, unable to decide which had surprised him more –
the fact that Lois knew it was him, or the fact that she said
she loved him. Before he had a chance to get his bearings and
respond, Lois had moved out of his arms. Her right arm moved
back and then swung around, making a resounding crack as it came
in contact with his jaw.

There was stunned silence for a moment while Clark and Lois just
looked at each other, and then Lois laughed. It was a crazy
sound, completely discordant with the tension in the room, but
then the entire past few moments had been crazy. Lois had
announced her love and then slapped him. Perhaps laughter was
the appropriate response.

Clark, for his part, did nothing, just stared at Lois with
confusion clear on his face. He tried for a time to fashion a
sentence, but nothing came out. It was hard to decide what to
say: Do you really love me? I'm so sorry I never told you? I
love you, too? Why did you slap me? What is so funny? All these
questions and more were warring in his head, trying to get out.
It was almost like his mouth stayed silent in protest.

Finally, Lois' laughter stopped. Still smiling, she said, "I've
never seen Superman look confused before. The look doesn't suit
you."

Taking in her smiling face, Clark knew he had to say something –
even if he had no idea what that something was. "Lois," he
began.

But Lois stood up, her voice suddenly firm, and all traces of
her smile gone as she spoke over him. "No. Don't talk. I don't
want to hear it. There is absolutely nothing you can say to make
this right. Nothing. You lied to me about who you were for over
a year. You let me think that you were two people. You let me
fall in love with both of you knowing you'd never love me back
as Superman and then leaving me to think that Clark had died.
You let me think you were dead for ten years, Clark. Ten years!
There is nothing you can say to make this better.

"If ever I had harbored the notion that you were honest that day
in the park before I almost married Lex and your denial later
was an attempt to regain some pride, I now know the truth. If
you had loved me, you couldn't possibly have done what you did.
Honestly, Clark, it's hard to imagine you could have done that
if all you felt for me was honest, platonic affection. So
clearly, while I spent the last ten years fantasizing about what
would have happened had you lived, that's all they were -
fantasies. Because you did live and you let me think you hadn't.
You let me think you had died protecting me. You let me think
you were a man of honor and clearly you are not.

"The world believes that Clark Kent died that day, and until
yesterday I believed it, too. It was strangely a less painful
belief than the reality that Clark Kent is alive and I wasn't
important enough for him to let me know. So, I think it best if
we just go back to the way things were."

Clark, swallowing tears back, whispered, "The way things were?"

"Yes," Lois clarified. "The way things were – Clark Kent is dead
and I haven't been friends with Superman in years. And since I'm
not in any danger there is no need for you to be here. You
should go."

Clark gasped. Lois' voice was so calm, she sounded so very
serious. He said the first thing that came to mind, "You can't
mean that, Lois. You can't."

"I can and I do," she told him firmly. "You need to leave."

Clark stared at a spot just over Lois' head, marveling at the
fact that it turned out heartbreak was not just a nice phrase
for what he was feeling – it was apt. It really felt like his
heart was breaking in pieces. Lois hated him. Despite her
declaration of love a few moments ago, that was clear.

Turning around, he walked out of the room, and without a word to
Lucy or even Sammy, he took off for Kansas.

Somehow, as much as the sound of Lois' calm, cold voice had been
painful, it was no more consoling when his super-hearing picked
up the sounds of Lois' anguished cries as he flew away.

********************************************

Clark spent the next several hours floating aimlessly through
the sky, desperately trying to erase the memory of his
conversation with Lois. When he returned to Smallville, his
parents were awake – his father was at work plowing the fields
and his mother was in the barn. While he was sure there was a
plate of breakfast waiting for him in the refrigerator, he was
in no mood to eat, even just to make his mother happy. While he
had no idea how he would ever be able to sleep, he headed
upstairs. Peeling off the spandex Superman outfit, he stepped
into the shower.

He tried to clear his mind of all thoughts and focus on the feel
of the warm water cascading over his shoulders. At some point,
though, he could no longer ignore the fact that half the water
washing over his cheeks was tears rather than water, and he
seemed to have no control over the response. So, he shut off the
water and dried off, headed for his room.

On automatic pilot, he donned a pair of boxers and slipped
between the sheets of his bed. Within moments, the tears had
finally stopped, but Clark felt none of the relief that
sometimes comes after a long cry. In fact, short of feeling out
of tears, he thought he might have felt even more miserable. His
head turned to the side, he stared at the picture from the
Kerths.

He desperately wished he could go back to that night. It was
ironic how simple that life seemed to him now when at the time
he felt like he was constantly re-evaluating things with Lois –
when and if to tell her how he felt, when and if to tell her
about Superman…. It had seemed so complicated then, but he would
take that complication in a heartbeat over what he was feeling
now.

Lois preferred it when he was dead. He wanted to be angry,
wanted to blame her for wanting something so awful, but
something prevented him from that emotion. Some small part of
him was aware that this was his doing – that it was his actions
that led her to feel this way. 

Of course, knowing it was his fault hardly made him feel any
better. No, instead he felt guilty on top of the awful weight on
his chest, knowing that Lois preferred it when she thought he
was dead.

Forget going back to the Kerth Awards. He would like to go back
to yesterday.

********************************************

Coming in the back door, Martha set the dish on the counter. A
few years ago, she and Jonathan had taken to keeping food in the
barn for stray cats. It encouraged them to stop by, and this
discouraged the mice from making their home in the hayloft.

Setting the empty cat food dish to the side to be washed later,
she went to the refrigerator to pour herself some water.
Spotting the plate of food she had left for Clark on the top
shelf, she reached over to turn on the radio, hoping to hear
news of a Superman rescue.

Fifteen minutes later, she had finished her chores in the
kitchen and there still had been no news of a recent Superman
sighting. Assuming Clark was out doing small rescues which would
only make news local to where he was, she turned off the radio
on her way into the den. 

Setting up the ironing board, she began her next chore, turning
on a daytime soap opera while she did. Ironing was her least
favorite thing to do, and while she liked to think she was more
high-minded than watching soap operas, it was a guilty pleasure
– one she had determined years ago made the time spent ironing
pass faster.

She giggled when a half hour later Jonathan came in the back
door, sweaty and smelling earthy. In an affected voice, he said,
"Oh, Martha, I must have you. Even if you are in love with my
brother's wife and carrying my priest's child," as he wrapped an
arm around her waist from behind.

"You need a shower," she replied.

He placed a kiss on her neck as he stepped towards the stairs.
"Clark back yet?" he called over his shoulder.

"No," Martha called back, "His breakfast is still in the
fridge."

Jonathon walked into the master bedroom, idly noticing that
Clark's door was closed. He showered and changed, coming
downstairs to watch Martha make dinner.

"I think Clark is sleeping," he said as he came down the
stairs.

"He's here?" Martha was surprised. She suspected Clark ate the
meals she left for him even when he was not hungry. He had never
let one go to waste before.

"Well, his door is closed," Jonathan said as he snuck a carrot
from the salad Martha was making.

She smacked his hand affectionately as she said, "I guess. It's
not like him to not eat the food we leave for him."

Jonathan smiled at the concern he heard in his wife's voice.
"Perhaps it was a really tough rescue, honey."

"I guess," she replied, not completely convinced.

********************************************

The following morning she was still not convinced. The night
before, Jonathan had knocked on Clark's door for dinner, but
Clark had not answered. He was no where to be found for
breakfast.

Again, Martha had turned on the radio, but there were no
Superman sightings mentioned since the tidal wave in Indonesia.
While she was sure there had been minor rescues since then,
Clark would have come home and taken the time to eat unless
there was a disaster.

Cleaning up the breakfast dishes, Martha wondered what to do.
What if Clark was sick? It was unlikely, but not impossible that
he had somehow been exposed to kryptonite.

Her minded decided, she went upstairs and into Clark's room
without knocking. Almost instantaneously, her heart constricted
at the sight that greeted her.

Clark was lying on his bed, staring straight up at the ceiling.
Tear tracks were evident on his cheeks, and the picture of him
and Lois was clutched tightly to his chest.

As the puzzle pieces fit together, she gasped. Lois was dead –
that was the only reason she could imagine her son in this
state.

Clark did not respond to her gasp, and she moved toward him
taking a seat beside him on the bed. Placing a warm hand on his
cheek, she whispered, "I'm so sorry, Clark. So sorry."

Clark said nothing, just sniffled.

"Clark, how did it happen?" she asked, wondering if it was the
right question. Clark had been holed up in his room for too long
– getting him to talk about it seemed the best thing to do.

Clark still said nothing, although he did glance at his mother
briefly.

"Oh, honey," Martha whispered, leaning down to embrace her son.

Clark gave a choked sob and the tears started all over again. He
sat up, burying his head in his mother's hair the way he had
when he was a small child – back when it was still possible for
him to scrape his knee.

Martha rubbed small circles on his back, whispering soothing
words.

Finally feeling spent, Clark pulled away slightly and again
Martha asked, "What happened, honey? Was she in pain?"

Clark looked at his mother quizzically, and then with a nasally
voice asked, "Was who in pain, Mom?"

Martha was surprised by the question, but came back with a
quick, "Well, Lois, honey."

Clark continued to look confused and Martha started to question
her assumption. "I thought… well, when I saw you in here like
this, I thought Lois had died," she explained.

Clark gave a bitter laugh, but then felt immediately guilty. He
knew his parents had cared for Lois, too. Thinking she had died
would have been difficult for his mother.

"No, Mom, Lois is fine. Well, healthy, anyway," he assured her.

Martha smiled brightly, trying to focus on the good news before
getting back to the reason her son had closed himself in his
room for the past day. "So, you found her then? That's great,
Clark."

Clark nodded slightly. "After the tidal wave a couple of days
ago. She is staying at her sister's place in San Diego. There
was a fire there yesterday and I went to help out."

Martha nodded encouragingly, willing Clark to go on.

"I went back there yesterday. I just wanted to see her, make
sure she was okay." Clark's voice broke on the last word and he
finished miserably with, "She hates me, Mom."

"What? You talked to her?" Martha asked, surprised. Clark had
not had the nerve to get close enough to Lois to talk to her in
years.

Clark nodded. "Yes, and she knew who I was immediately." He
clarified when he saw his mother looking confused. "She somehow
saw me as Clark when I was wearing the suit. She's angry at me.
Very angry."

"Oh, honey, of course she is," Martha said gently, "but she'll
get over it. You just need to give her time." She tried to be
supportive, although it was hard to imagine how she would feel
in Lois' situation. She had tried to convince Clark to talk to
Lois for years, but he was convinced that silence was the right
thing to do. Still, the last thing Clark needed to hear right
now was that he had destroyed any hope of Lois forgiving him.

Clark lay back down, staring at the ceiling. He did not say
anything for several minutes, and then, his voice sounding firm,
he replied, "No, I don't think she will. Can I really blame
her?"

Martha placed a hand to Clark's forehead, brushing his hair
back, but did not say anything.

"Thanks, Mom, but I think I need to be alone," Clark finally
said.

Martha leaned down to kiss him lightly on the cheek before
getting up to leave the room.

********************************************

Lois woke up the next morning feeling charged with energy. She
had spent most of the evening and night crying, but sometime in
the wee hours of the morning she took a deep breath. She had
spent the better part of the past ten years feeling guilty for
something she had not done. It was time to move on.

After her stint at Long Island Newsday, Lois had decided to move
to San Diego and help out Lucy. Lucy and Sean needed a full-time
babysitter, Lois wanted to be closer to Sammy, and working had
lost the ability to fulfill her after Clark's death, but that
was gone now. With Lucy taking a few days off this week to spend
some quality time with Sammy, this was the perfect time for Lois
to get back on her feet.

Given Lucy and Sean's concern over her lack of interest in
working, she knew they would be happy to hire someone else to
take care of Sammy if she managed to find a job.

Getting out of bed, she opened up her laptop and started going
through old articles. Immediately disregarding anything she had
written with Clark, she found three strong pieces from her time
at the Planet. Printing them out with a copy of her resume, she
put the papers in an envelope.

After a fast shower, she went into her closet. Pushing aside the
jeans and summer dresses, she reached for the back. Finding a
black pinstriped suit that used to be one of her favorites, she
got out the ironing board and let the iron heat up while she
searched her closet for matching shoes.

An hour later she was dressed and exiting her room. Lucy was in
the living room with Sammy and they both looked up when she
entered.

"Wow, Lo. You look great. Where you headed?" Lucy asked.

"I think it's time I started working again. I'm going to apply
for a job at the San Diego Union-Tribune." Lois stated, sounding
more confident than she felt.

"Oh, Lois, that's great!" Lucy exclaimed.

"If it pans out, I'll make sure I give you plenty of time to
find a nanny before I start," Lois rushed to explain.

"No problem. Sean and I will start looking today. Lois, it's
great to see you wanting to work again," Lucy replied, sincerity
in her voice and in her eyes.

Lois smiled at her before heading out the door on the way to the
Union-Tribune's offices. A few minutes later, parked in front of
the imposing building, Lois flipped down her visor, and gave her
face a once-over. She looked presentable. She looked determined.
She would be fine. She was Lois Lane, award-winning journalist!

Picking up the envelope with her resume and examples, Lois got
out of the car and entered the building looking more confident
than she felt inside. Despite her pep talk in the car, she knew
that in reality, she had been absent from the journalism scene
for awhile and had not produced any quality work since leaving
the Daily Planet years before. Still, though, she thought, she
was willing to work her way up again if need be. Besides, the
San Diego Union-Tribune was not really the same as the Daily
Planet.

She approached the receptionist with a broad smile. "Lois Lane
to see the editor," she stated.

"Do you have an appointment?" the receptionist asked, looking
bored.

Lois' smile faltered for a second before she stated, "No, but I
am willing to wait until he has an opening today."

The receptionist said nothing while punching an extension on her
phone. "There's a Lois Lane here to see Emerson. Says she'll
wait until he is available," the woman said into the phone. A
moment later she hung up the handset. "Please take a seat. Mr.
Emerson has an opening shortly before lunch if you are willing
to wait for a couple of hours."

Lois thanked her and took a seat. She could feel herself growing
anxious as she looked around the room, and finally picked up a
copy of the paper to distract her.

Two hours later, the receptionist finally called out to Lois to
follow her. Lois walked through the newsroom, feeling her
adrenaline pumping. John Emerson was standing at the entrance to
his office. One look at him and Lois knew she would like working
for him. He was in his mid-forties with light brown hair. He had
an open, engaging smile that was mirrored in his bright blue
eyes, and while he was a good six inches taller than she was, he
did not stoop down to grab her hand – a move Lois always felt
was patronizing. His handshake, too, was warm and inviting –
firm, but not bone-crunching. She found herself relaxing just
being in his presence.

"So, it is you after all," he opened with. Smiling at her and
gesturing for her to lead the way into his office, he continued,
"When Mary told me a Lois Lane was waiting for me I thought it
was a coincidence. I can not believe I left the great Lois Lane
waiting for two hours!" he laughed.

Lois smiled, not sure what the appropriate response was, but
luckily he did not expect one. "It is a pleasure to meet you,
Miss Lane. Sincerely," he told her as he sat down in his chair.

"Thank you," Lois said quietly, suddenly feeling a bit shy.
"Thank you for taking the time to see me, Mr. Emerson."

"John, please, and it really is a pleasure. So what can I do
for, Miss Lane?" he replied.

"Lois," she corrected him gently. "Well, as you are clearly
aware, I was a journalist for the Daily Planet, among other
newspapers. I took a couple of years off to help my sister raise
my niece, but I'm ready to return to journalism. I know I'll
need to start at the bottom, but I'm willing to do anything.
Here's some samples of my work," Lois rushed.

While John took the folder from her, he did not open it. "I
don't need to read these to know that you were a brilliant
writer, Lois, but you are correct – it has been years since you
wrote for the Planet and I'll need to see something more
recent," he said gently.

"I understand," Lois said, already feeling hopeful. He had not
turned her down. 

"And I don't actually have any openings right now," John
continued.

Lois felt her hopes fall and was almost going to just collect
her things and go when she remembered – when Clark got hired at
the Planet there had been no openings either. He had just
written a story that he knew Perry wanted and no one was
writing. She smiled at John. "I understand, but perhaps one will
be available soon. I would appreciate you giving me the chance
to show you a sample of my current writing. Is there anything
you can suggest I use for my piece?"

John looked out at the newsroom thoughtfully. Finally he turned
back to her, his expression serious. "I do have something, but
it is not serious news, Lois. I have reporters on those stories
already," he explained.

"Of course," Lois replied.

"Ronko, the baby white rhinoceros is going to be released into
the African enclosure at the Wild Animal Park tonight. He is the
youngest baby to be released into the enclosure and no one is
sure if he will be able to stay there. It's not cutting edge
journalism, but it's a nice human interest piece," John said
gently.

While Lois' heart sank, she smiled. Getting up and shaking
John's hand, she thanked him for the opportunity and told him
that she would be by tomorrow to show him her piece. She tried
not to focus on the fact that this was not the type of writing
at which she excelled. Clark had always been good at the
touchy-feely things like baby rhinos.

She headed back to her car, heading home. She may as well change
if she was going to spend the evening at the Animal Park.
Perhaps Lucy and Sammy would come – Sammy would love it and Lois
could use the company on the forty minute drive there. 

********************************************

Lois had been convinced that the story about Ronko was not one
of her best. It had been somewhat interesting to watch and speak
to the some of the personnel at the park. Sammy had loved it.
Still, this type of story was not Lois' forte. She tried to
instill in her story the joy she saw emanating from Sammy,
though, and it must have worked.

Two weeks later, Sammy was enrolled in child care and Lois Lane
was a staff reporter for the San Diego Union Tribune. She had
been there for three months now and she could not deny that she
liked it. She enjoyed working for John as much as she thought
she would – he was fair and gentle with his employees, but
demanded the best from them. He reminded her of Perry, except he
was a little bit more open about his soft side.

The other reporters at the Trib were very friendly and made
attempts to befriend Lois. This was a strange experience for
her, as she was used to her reputation as "Mad Dog Lane," but
none of these reporters were familiar with her past, and she
found herself warming up to them. She wanted to make friends and
build a new life for herself, and these people were offering to
help her do it.

There was just one problem with her job right now – she was
still writing human interest stories. After three months, Lois
felt she was ready to move on to harder-hitting stuff, but John
kept giving her soft stories. She knew how lucky she had been to
get this chance, and so she was hesitant to push him.

However, enough was enough and when Lois arrived at work this
morning, she was prepared to demand a strong story. John was
leaning against her desk when she arrived. For a moment, Lois
wondered if he had another human interest piece for her, but the
look in his eyes when she walked up told her he did not.

"Good morning, Lois," he greeted her as she hung her light
jacket up. 

"Morning, John," she replied.

"You wanted to see me?" he asked.

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "You were waiting for me at my
desk," she pointed out.

"Yes, but only as I know you are itching to tell me it's time to
give you a meaty story, and this morning I finally came up with
one I think is perfect for you." John tried not to laugh at the
look that came over Lois' face at these words – equal parts
relief, amusement, and determination.

"Superman used to be your specialty, was he not?" John asked. He
almost hesitated when he saw the look that came over her, but it
only lasted a moment, and so he moved on. "If you get the
exclusive, you can have a spot on the investigative reporting
team."

"The exclusive?" Lois asked, her voice just slightly unsteady.

John laughed, "Don't play dumb with me, Lane. The exclusive –
three months ago, Superman disappears for a little over a week.
When he returns, there's no word on where he's been, and he's
different – stand-offish with the press. Three months and he's
still coming and going without stopping for pictures or quotes.
I want to know where he was and what happened to him."

Lois swallowed hard before replying, "This isn't like when I was
at the Planet, John. Then I could get quotes from him all the
time, as we both lived in the same city. No one knows where
Superman lives now, but he hardly ever comes to San Diego."

"Well then, I guess you'll have to get creative," John smiled at
her as he walked away.

********************************************

For two days, Lois produced nothing. She was not sure of the
best way to get Superman to come speak to her, and she was not
sure she wanted to do so anyway. She did not want to know the
things John wanted to know. She knew he was right – it would be
good news. He was not the only one who wanted to know, but, she
feared she knew some of the answers to those questions and she
was neither eager to confirm her suspicions nor learn more.

Still, she wanted this job. While the stories so far were not
what she wanted, she was enjoying being back in the newsroom.
She was enjoying working for John. He had faith in her, she
could tell, and it had been a long time since that was the
case.

Finally, knowing she was getting nowhere with this, she did the
one thing she had known she would do from the beginning. It
would work, she knew it would, she just had not wanted to do it,
primarily as she had not wanted to speak to Clark.

She turned on the television in her room. Flipping to LNN, she
watched for a few moments. No international emergencies where
being reported.

Shutting off the television, she walked over to her window and
poked her head outside. "Help, Superman!" she cried.

She brought her head back in and sat on her bed. He was far
away, she knew that. And it was only one cry. In all likelihood,
this would not work, but she was not yet ready for the full out
screaming she knew she would need to do.

"Lois?" Superman was floating outside her window.

Lois moved over to the window, pushing the curtains aside and
opening the window wider. Then, taking another look at him, she
realized he would never fit. These were not the windows in her
Metropolis apartment. "Come to the front door," she demanded,
her voice soft.

She walked through the bedroom, looking around the empty living
room as she passed. She was stalling and she knew it. Finally,
her hand shaking, she opened the door.

Superman stood before her, saying nothing for a moment and then
finally, "Are you hurt?"

"Were you nearby?" she asked in response. "How did you hear
me?"

"I was home," he replied, his voice nearly a whisper. "In
Smallville." He faltered for a moment, and then his head fell.
Staring avidly at his boots in a very un-Super voice, he
whispered, "I listen for you." He looked up at her, and she
could see a thin veneer of tears covering his eyes. "I'll always
listen for you, Lois. I promise – I'll always come when you
call."

Lois said nothing while she stepped back to let him in. She
could feel her anger weakening, and she straightened her spine.
"He lied to me," she repeated to herself. She closed her eyes,
letting herself remember what it felt like to think that Clark
Kent had died. Remember the guilt she had carried around for ten
years. One nice sentence could not erase that. It could not even
make a small dent in that pain.

"Lois? Are you all right?" Clark asked again.

"I'm fine," Lois replied, her voice sharp. "I just needed to
talk to you." She turned around and took in the man standing
before her. She had to admit, he did not look very much like a
Superman. His face was wan and his eyes lifeless. Even his hair
was mussed, like he had forgotten to care enough to comb it.

For a moment, she felt herself soften again, but then she
remembered. This was going to be hard. She knew it would be. He
looked so much like the man she had thought she loved, it was
hard to see him hurting. He was not that man, though – that man
did not exist, was a figment of her imagination. While she may
not have known it then, he had died that night with Clark Kent
when Superman did not come to her and reveal himself, had
instead let her grieve for a man who had not died.

Steeling her shoulders once again, Lois spoke deliberately. "You
may have seen that I've started writing again, Clark. And I want
to keep doing so. I've been assigned a new story. Something a
bit harder-hitting than what I've written since…" She floundered
for a moment lost for words. "Since I thought you died," she
finally finished, and had to admit to feeling a bit victorious
when he flinched at her words. "If I do well on this assignment,
I'll get to move back to investigating."

"That's great, Lois!" he replied, his voice enthusiastic. She
had to admit, he did look genuinely happy for her, although the
sparkle in his eyes she so recalled was gone now. "But what… why
am I here?" he asked.

"My assignment is you, Clark. I need to know what happened when
you disappeared a few months ago. Where you went. What happened
to you such that you've been different ever since."

For a moment, neither said anything. Then Clark nearly fell over
onto the couch. Lois took in his form, crumbled, staring at the
floor and started to panic. What was she going to give to John?
She needed this break, but just looking at Clark, she knew her
suspicions were correct. While Clark deserved no less than for
her to tell his dirty little secret to the world, she knew she
would not. It would be unfair to the Kents, and this was Clark's
mistake, not theirs. As much as she knew he deserved it, she
could not deny the fact that she loved him – whatever small part
of him was the man she thought he had been. While she could
never forgive him, she could not hurt him like that.

Clark looked up at her again, tears once again visible in his
eyes. "I don't know what I can say that you can print, Lois.
This isn't the story of a superhero. It's the story of a man. A
stupid, selfish man who made mistakes – big mistakes and was
finally forced to own up to them." His voice faltered and Lois
was horrified to see a tear drop from his eye. She held herself
firmly, willing herself not to walk over to the couch and drop
beside him, however much she may want to.

"I was not off doing anything heroic, Lois. What I was doing was
as un-heroic as it can get. I was wallowing, and that's all I've
done ever since. I know you don't want to hear this and you
don't want to believe me, but you have to know that I love you,
Lois. I love you so much. I once thought that I would want to
kill anyone who hurt you and it's true. You can't know what I
feel like, knowing that I did.

"I know I haven't been very 'Super' since then, but I can't seem
to stop it. I just don't care anymore. I just don't care…" his
voice trailed off, and Lois stared at him, not sure what to do.
Tears were streaming down his face, but he made no move to stop
them. Nor did he did look at her, asking for pity; he just
stared out the window while he cried.

And then with no warning, he got up and walked toward the door.
The tears were still falling, but he paid them no heed. "I'm
sorry," he whispered as he turned to look at her. "I know I have
no right to show you this," he gestured blindly up at his face.
"I know what I feel is exactly what I deserve after what I put
you through, but I don't have a fabulous tale for your story. I
don't have anything left to offer anyone anymore."

He opened the door and flew away, the sonic boom echoing the
feeling in her heart. Lois felt as if she had just witnessed the
death of the superhero.

********************************************

She was awakened the next morning by the ringing of her cell
phone. She moaned and tried to ignore it while it rang. She had
been up late the night before, caught up in what she was going
to do. She clearly could not tell the world the truth, and yet
was she willing to lie for Clark? Her only reprieve from this
dilemma was when she tortured herself with how he had looked
before he left – defeated, broken. She tried to remind herself
that he deserved all that and more. She knew it was not enough –
it would never be enough for her to forgive him. Still, she did
not want to have to live with that image in her memory.

When her phone rang again a moment later, Lois groaned louder,
reaching onto her nightstand to pick it up.

Glancing at the clock quickly, she saw that it was only shortly
after six. "Who the heck is this!" she demanded when she
answered the phone.

"Sorry for calling so early," John's voice answered her, "but I
thought you'd want to know right away that your story is great
and you are now officially a member of the I-team."

"Oh," Lois replied, her brain deserting her now.

John laughed in her ear, his voice soft and teasing. "I can see
it's too early for such things, so I'll let you get back to
sleep," he said, before he hung up the phone.

Lois slowly put her phone down, staring at the ceiling. She
hadn't submitted anything, had she? She would remember that,
wouldn't she?

No longer any part sleepy, Lois reached for her laptop, which
was sitting on the floor. Booting it up, she wracked her brain.
She had not submitted an article. She was nearly certain of it.

She opened up her files, looking for something she may have sent
when her computer beeped at her. She ignored it for a moment,
but then her eyes widened at the alert showing up on her
screen.

"New email from Martha.Kent@Email.com" it proclaimed to her.

She clicked on it, almost afraid of what she would find.

"Lois," the email began. "I know how much writing means to you
and how much I've already taken away. I couldn't let you lose
the chance again. I know nothing I do can ever make up for what
I've done, so don't see this as an apology. It's just that I
know you wouldn't tell anyone the truth about where I was and
you wouldn't want to lie either. I just want you to be happy and
I know I can't do that for you anymore. I don't deserve to be
able to, but this is something I can do. 

"I sent the attachment to your editor this morning. I'm sorry
it's still a little vague, but the last thing I want to do is
put you in any danger. I changed the to address, so he will
think it came from you.

"Yours always, Clark."

Lois stared at the screen blankly for a moment, before
desperately clicking on the attachment, almost afraid of what it
would contain.

 "The Truth Behind the Cape" by Lois Lane

 The death of a hero is hard to take. I know 
 that – I have lived through it, too. It makes 
 me sad to share this with you all, and yet I 
 know I have to. It is my job as a reporter to 
 share with you the truth about Superman.

 I had the fortune (or misfortune) of seeing him
 yesterday and I asked him the questions we all 
 want to know – where was he, and what had happened 
 to him? I was concerned, as I am sure many of 
 you have been, about what happened to a man who 
 has given so much to us.

 What I learned made me sad – not for him, but for 
 us. For believing the fallacy of the cape. For 
 thinking this man was a hero. For thinking the 
 ability to fly made him flawless and above us all.

 Superman did not disappear for a week because he 
 was needed somewhere far away, as I know many of 
 us imagined. He disappeared because he was 
 grieving. He said little about where he was, or 
 what he was grieving for, but he told me very 
 clearly that he had hurt someone very deeply and 
 had realized with alarming clarity that this 
 person did nothing to deserve it. He, too, had 
 believed he was above that kind of thing, and he 
 had found himself wrong.

 As for his attitude since then, he had no answer. 
 Just the belief that there was no way back to the 
 way things used to be. The person he had hurt 
 could not be un-hurt and he was not sure how to 
 move forward.

 While what I had wanted when I asked my questions 
 was to come to you all with a great story of 
 heroism and grandeur, I was left with the 
 realization that standing in front of me was just 
 a man – and there was nothing super about him.

********************************************

Lois Lane was back on her game. The Superman story, penned by
Clark, had been a huge success. Lois had arrived at the Trib the
next morning to find her fellow reporters cheering her on, other
members of the investigative writing team glad to have her on
board. To be fair, the joy on that first day had been
short-lived. John called her into his office shortly after she
had gotten settled.

Lois had walked in beaming – certain that he was about to drop a
juicy story in her lap. John had thought so, too, but clearly,
they had different ideas on what made a juicy story.

"The Superman piece was wonderful, Lois," John opened with.

Lois smiled. "Thank you." She had felt a little guilty taking
credit for something Clark had written, but then she figured he
deserved it; he offered it, and it moved her past her indecision
on what to do about it.

"I can already see it as a series of articles," John continued.
Lois' eyes widened slightly, but she didn't say anything as she
felt her heartbeat quicken. The last thing she wanted to do was
delve deeper into this story. "People are going to be
wondering," John began. "Heck – I'm wondering. Just what did he
do? What does this mean for his image? Is he evil – was it
something illegal or morally bankrupt? Or is he an angel –
feeling grief when he hurt someone who wasn't really all that
hurt? We need to find out."

When Lois said nothing, John finished off with, "You need to
find out."

Lois felt like she was back at the beginning. She was unsure
what to do. What she did not want to do was to be faced with
Clark again. She knew she had trouble seeing him hurt and she
knew she would never be able to forgive herself if she forgave
him. So, for the first day, she did nothing. She knew she was
burying her head in the sand, but she was sort of hoping it
would blow over. 

Besides, Abby Winters had asked her for help on one of her
stories. While the old Lois Lane would have said no – she hated
working with a partner and in general, Lois was not the type of
person to get along well with other women – she was eager to
sink her teeth into something aside from the Superman story.
Abby's story was exactly what she wanted: political corruption,
criminal activity.

The two women worked well together. Lois found that her working
style was different than it used to be and that helped. Abby's
interest in working with her led Abby to take Lois' suggestions
seriously, and Lois had softened as a partner. Gone was the
sparring Lois from her partnership with Clark. This Lois was
insightful, but a bit more cautious and more interested in what
Abby had to say. The years away from the game made Lois feel a
bit unsure of herself and she started to think that was actually
a good thing. She was a better partner when she did not think
she was light years ahead of her colleagues.

Given the legwork Abby had done and the ease with which the two
women worked together, the case was broken open within the first
two days. Two front page stories within a week was not bad work
for Lois (although admittedly her byline came after Abby's on
the second one).

Still, her hope that the Superman story would fall by the
wayside did not work out. Her article, or Clark's article, had
been picked up by the Associated Press and spread like wildfire.
John was right – there were speculations a-plenty about what
Superman had done, ranging the gamut from staunch supporters who
were pitying the superhero to those who were willing to burn him
at the stake without the faintest idea what he had done wrong.

Lois was again at odds with herself. This was the precisely the
sort of story she would have wanted to get to the bottom of
before – and she would want the credit as the reporter who did
so; but not this time, not this story. Given her feelings, she
could not expunge Clark from guilt, but neither could she be the
reporter who left him to be torn apart by the press. Not only
did she have a problem doing that professionally, but she also
felt that this was too private. She had never thought of this
before – that maybe Superman's private life was no one's
business but his. She had always thought that if he chose to
live in the spotlight, those were the dues he had to pay, but
now she felt differently. This issue, however large it might be
in her life, was between her and Clark. She was not interested
in seeing it discussed by all the talking heads.

However, the longer she waited to write the follow-up, the
bigger the story became. More and more reporters were jumping on
the Superman-did-something-illegal bandwagon and his reputation
was going down in flames. While Lois cared little for his
reputation, she knew something needed to be done. At a fire in
Seattle about a week after the first article, people had booed
at Clark when he arrived and had thrown things at him as he
tried to pull people from the building. Not only was it hurting
his ability to help others, but just as she had not wanted,
others were discussing her private argument with Clark, even if
they did not know what it was.

So, she decided to tell the truth about what happened. She
contemplated the issue of not wanting to see Clark again, and
then decided it was a non-issue. She did not need to see Clark
to write this story. Clark made decisions about her life without
telling her – such as the, "By the way, I'm sorry you're
devastated by my death. As it happens, I'm not dead." Or the,
"I'm guessing you're in a tight spot, so I got you out of it.
Here's the article you wrote." Okay, he was right about the last
one, but still…. The fact was that Clark made a habit of making
decisions for her. She could make this one for him.

In order to keep the secret identity issue a secret identity and
not harm the Kents, she did not mention what the lie was based
on. She just said that she had tracked down the wronged party.
That person, who wished to remain anonymous, felt that Superman
had lied to her. However, this was not an illegal lie. The
problem was simply that she trusted Superman to always be honest
and it turned out he was not.

As expected, there were several days of people speculating what
this lie was, and John pushed her to write another article. Now
that the actual nature of the grievance was better known though,
it died down slightly. Staunch supporters of Superman claimed it
was okay for heroes to make mistakes, particularly when they
felt remorse. Those that had been all for burning him at the
stake found themselves with fewer supporters – even those who
were disappointed to hear that Superman had lied (and there were
many) no longer thought that throwing things at him while he
performed rescues was appropriate.

While there was also some support for the aggrieved person to
forgive Superman, eventually the topic blew over. There were
still some speculations about it and it would come up on
occasion, but eventually the news moved on.

The main outcome of this for Lois, though, was that the second
story, also was picked up by the Associated Press. Given Clark's
reluctance to talk to the press anymore, any quotes from or
about the superhero were big news right now. Lois Lane, once
again, became the reporter tied to Superman.

John, and as it happened, other papers, too, expected to see
pieces from Lois after any major rescues. The first time, after
a monsoon in southeast Asia, Lois had asked John if he was
willing to fly her there and when the answer was no, had asked
what he expected her to do. John had smiled, saying, "Why, work
your Lane magic again, of course."

And so Lois had once again called out to Clark. She watched on
LNN to see him flying away from the scene and started calling
then. When he reached her a few moments later, he was filthy and
looked exhausted, but Lois had a story to write and decided she
cared little for Clark's comfort.

Since then, it had become a habit. She and Abby had become a
writing team to rival any other at the Union-Tribune, but on top
of that, Lois had the exclusive on Superman. She would call to
him after every rescue and it seemed no matter where he had been
or how long he had been there, he always came when she called.

For her part, Lois was a little disappointed – it was like
Superman was a trained puppy. But as long as it kept getting her
Associated Press stories, she was fine with it.

This arrangement had been working quite well for her for six
months now and Lois was feeling settled in her new life. She had
a permanent and well-respected position at the Trib now and a
month ago, Mrs. Wilkins next door had decided to move back east
to be near her family. She had a small one-bedroom apartment
that she sold to Lois at a very good rate. So, Lois was still
close enough to be involved in Sammy's life, but she finally
felt like she had her own life again. Plus, this apartment had
an exterior entrance, allowing Superman easy entrance and exit
when he came to give her his stories.

It was during an earthquake in Australia that things changed, or
rather started to change. While the news was still showing shots
of Superman at the site, the shots looked recycled from earlier,
so Lois started calling for him about three hours after the
earliest reports. That night though, about eight hours after it
had started, he still had not shown up. The news was only
covering the earthquake sporadically, so she knew little about
what was going on.

Finally at 10, she decided to make sure he was not ignoring her.
She called directory assistance and got the number for the
Kents. When Martha answered, Lois felt nervous. She had not
considered the fact that Clark was unlikely to answer given that
he was supposed to be dead.

"Hi, Martha," she started, tentatively. "This is Lois… Lois
Lane."

There was a pause before finally, Martha responded, her tone
detached. "Hi Lois," she replied. "How are you?"

"Okay," Lois said tentatively. "How are you and Jonathan?"

"We're doing well, dear," Martha replied, her tone a bit
friendlier. "If you are looking for Clark, he's still in
Australia."

"Oh," Lois said, suddenly lost for words. "Well, could you ask
him to call me when he gets back?" she finished lamely.

"Of course, Lois."

When the two women hung up, Lois sat on the edge of her bed,
feeling slightly ill.

********************************************

Clark still had not shown up the following night, and Lois was
sure it was him when someone knocked on her door at nine that
night.

She was surprised when she saw Martha Kent standing in her
doorway. "Good evening, Lois," the older woman opened with.

For a minute, Lois was certain that Clark really was dead this
time. As much as she hated it, she felt her heart constrict at
the thought. As though she could read the look on her face,
Martha assured her, "He's still in Australia."

Stuttering slightly, Lois asked more than stated, "But they are
barely reporting anything on LNN anymore?"

"I know and I was worried, too, but Jonathan reminded me that if
someone found a way to bring down Superman, it would be public
knowledge – they would want credit."

Lois nodded, agreeing with the thought. Almost absently, she
took a step back and motioned for Martha to come in. "Would you
like some tea?" she offered.

"That would be nice," Martha replied.

When Lois came back into her living room, Martha was seated on
the couch, staring out the window with a blank look on her
face.

As she prepared her tea, Martha took a deep breath. "Lois, we
need to talk."

Lois nodded her head, unsure of the appropriate reply.

"You need to know a few things," Martha continued. "First off,
I'm here because I love my son very much. I know he is hurting
right now and I'd like to help ease that. However, you should
also know that I think what he did to you was wrong and hurtful.
I am not here to defend his actions. However, I am hoping I can
explain them a little, because while I think it was wrong, I
know why he did it. And I'm hoping that if you do, too, both of
you can stop hurting so much."

Lois nodded again, still unsure what to say.

Martha took a deep breath before beginning. "When Clark was a
child, we had no idea he was special. Jonathan and I had some
suspicions – I mean, we found him on a spaceship. But we never
imagined…. We thought he was something from some government
experiment gone wrong. For the first few years he was a normal
little boy. He got hurt just like other little boys and threw
tantrums like them, too. Although, our neighbors assured us that
Clark threw less of those than other children." Martha chuckled
a little.

"The Rogers lived next door and they had a little boy Clark's
age. Given that 'next door' in Smallville is sort of far away
and Jonathan and I were concerned about people taking Clark
away, Adam and Clark didn't meet until they were about four.
They were fast friends. By the time they started school a year
later, they were inseparable. In fact, when they were placed in
different kindergarten classrooms, they asked us for help
writing up letters to the school board to change one of their
classes to the other's. The school was so impressed with this
show of initiative, they got their request.

"They met Lana sometime later – maybe fourth grade. Clark was
immediately smitten. He would come home and talk about her for
hours. Unfortunately, Lana was unaware there was even a boy
named Clark in her class.

"And then things started to change."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clark jumped up and down excitedly. He loved being in the
hayloft almost as much as Adam did. It completely made up for
having to spend the afternoon helping his dad fix the shelf.
Besides, Dad had gone back to the house a moment ago to get his
hammer. 
Adam, who was also jumping up and down, fell into Clark. The two
boys fell into the hay laughing. Clark got back up and giggling,
pushed Adam in retaliation. Adam laughed, and getting up on his
knees, pushed Clark right back. Still giggling, Clark also got
onto his knees and the boys began pushing at each other.

Hay was in both of their hair, and the boys were giggling so
hard they could barely see straight. Adam pushed Clark again and
Clark fell backwards.

For a moment, neither said anything as Clark fell over the side
and right down to the ground. Then Adam started screaming.

Jonathan was nearly back at the barn when he heard the scream
and increased his pace to a jog. He felt his heart stop at the
sight of his son on the floor of the barn. He approached Clark
cautiously, worried about what he would find.

When he got closer, though, Clark was looking up at him
curiously. "What happened, son?" Jonathan asked.

Adam, who had stopped screaming when Jonathan had entered the
barn, had now scrambled down the ladder and was standing next to
him. In a timid voice, he answered the question, "I pushed him,
Mr. Kent. But it was an accident, I swear! I didn't mean for him
to fall" He started to cry.

Jonathan placed a hand on his head. "I know, son. It's okay."

Both Adam and Jonathan were shocked when Clark got up off the
floor. "I'm fine, Dad," he said, still looking confused.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Adam and Clark thought this was very cool and for the next year
they would joke about the time Clark survived the fall," Martha
continued. "Of course, in their stories, the fall was much
larger than the seven feet it actually is.

"By the end of that year, though, other things had started to
happen. Clark heard a conversation Jonathan and I had, even
though we were whispering and were on the other side of the
house. Clark had decided to help me make dinner and casually put
his hand on a burner I had accidentally left on, but was fine.

"We were scared – all of us, but no one more than Jonathan. He
began to have nightmares of people coming to take Clark away to
find out what made him special. He started telling these stories
to Clark about what he feared, instilling in Clark the fear that
no one could know. His favorite phrase was, 'they'll dissect you
like a frog'.

"I was against these stories as I knew Clark was afraid in a way
he had not been before. On the other hand, Jonathan got the
message across – no one was to know. Clark fought for several
days, said he should be able to tell Adam, but Jonathan was firm
and I agreed with him. I knew it was a tough secret to ask a
ten-year-old to keep, but one ten-year-old knowing was probably
too many.

"Eventually, although Clark insisted it was his secret to tell
and we shouldn't be able to tell him what to do, he agreed to do
as we asked."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Really?" Clark asked Adam, awe in his voice.

"Yeah," Adam answered proudly. "Right in front of Ron, too. He
looked pretty steamed, but it was worth it."

"On the lips?" Clark clarified. Adam nodded. "What was it like?"
Clark asked.

Adam thought for a second before he said, "I think she had some
lip gloss on cause she tasted like strawberries." He paused for
a moment before lowering his voice, "Don't tell anyone, but it
was kind of… wet."

Clark laughed. "Wet?" he asked.

"Yeah, it was kind of wet." When Clark continued to laugh, Adam
got indignant. "Hey, you've never been kissed by a girl. You
don't know!" But when this failed to wipe the amused look off of
Clark's face, Adam continued. "I bet if I wanted to, I could get
Lana Lang to kiss me!" he exclaimed.

"You wouldn't," Clark said, sounding a bit fearful, but Adam
nodded his head yes. This only made Clark laugh again. "You
couldn't," he said.

Adam laughed, knowing Clark was right, but it was still fun to
tease his friend.

Clark reached out and playfully tapped Adam, accidentally
getting hay in Adam's hair. Adam picked some hay up from the
loft beneath him and threw it at Clark. 

Clark picked up an even larger handful of hay and threw it at
Adam. 

In retaliation, Adam began throwing handful after handful of hay
at Clark. "It's so much more fun to play in your hayloft than
mine," he said while he threw hay at Clark. "My dad gets so mad
when we move the hay around." Clark rolled left and then right
to escape the fall of hay while trying to send his own hay
Adam's way. The last time he miscalculated. He felt himself fall
over the edge and nearly held his breath, hoping that like when
this happened last year, he would somehow land uninjured.

But then strangely, he felt himself traveling up, not down. He
looked around the barn in wonder, not understanding what was
going on. A minute more and he was sitting besides Adam in the
hayloft again.

Neither boy said anything for a moment. Then, in a quiet voice,
Clark asked, "Did I… did I just fly?"
	
Adam said nothing for a moment more, staring at Clark with wide
eyes. Then without a word, he let out a loud scream and pushed
past Clark to climb down the stairs. He did not stop screaming
the entire way home. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"He wasn't overtly cruel to Clark, ever, which I think says
something about his character. But Clark was eleven. It was easy
to hurt him. Adam never said anything about what he'd seen to
anyone, but he refused to talk to Clark again and asked Clark to
leave him alone when Clark tried.

"Clark was miserable for months after the thing with Adam. That
was when he built his 'Fortress of Solitude'. He stopped arguing
with us about telling anyone his secret. Eventually, he moved
on, but he was different. He was shy and unsure of himself.

"He had friends, but no one he was close to. He dated, but not
very often. He still had this awful crush on Lana, and they were
friends, but Lana saw Clark as a great guy for studying algebra
with, or for calling up to cry when her latest boyfriend dumped
her, but not the boy she would go to the movies with on a Friday
night. 

"So, when Clark went to college, he almost seemed relieved to be
leaving Smallville. I think he hoped that out of the town he
grew up in, he would be able to rebuild himself into someone
else.

"He met Becky during his second year at college. She was sweet
and very taken with Clark. Jonathan thought she was the one when
we met her, but I was less sure – mother's instinct, maybe.

"Clark and Becky dated for nearly two years when he decided it
was time to tell her. They were in love and were talking about
getting married when they graduated.

"I'm sure that at heart, she didn't mean it. I mean, she wasn't
a monster. Still, when Clark told her, she screamed at him,
called him all sorts of names. When Clark told us, it was hard
to make out exactly what she said to him. What I remember, what
it's hard to forget, is that she called him a freak, an alien,
and asked how he could think anyone would want to marry him."
Martha's voice grew soft.

Taking a deep breath, she continued, "Jonathan and I were
worried that she would tell someone, and I'm not convinced she
wouldn't have, but she refused to let Clark walk her back to her
dorm that night. Any other night, he likely would have flown out
of sight to watch her get home safely, but he was so beaten down
that when she said no, he let her go and flew home to us a few
minutes later. She was hit by a car on her way back and died the
next day.

"Given how he felt, it's hard to imagine how Clark finished the
semester. He was a zombie. When we talked to him on the phone,
his voice was so quiet it was hard to hear him. When he came
home to visit, he barely spoke.

"Over the following summer, Clark was withdrawn and quiet. It
was hard to determine how much was over the things Becky had
said, and how much was guilt and anguish over her death.
Regardless, we couldn't draw him out.

"Goodness knows, Lana tried. She spent a lot of time with Clark
during college when they were both home from school, and she was
disappointed in how little interest Clark seemed to have in
spending time with her that summer. I think Clark's crush on
Lana was still there, even while he was with Becky, and Lana was
used to Clark sort of doting on her. But that summer he didn't
have the energy or the interest, it seemed.

"I thought this may be the end of their friendship – that once
Clark was no longer paying attention to her, Lana would lose
interest. She was better than I gave her credit for. She pushed
hard to maintain her friendship with Clark. I think she was
upset, as she could tell Clark was holding back on her. He had
told her about Becky's accident, but had decided not to tell her
about their fight. Lana could tell there was something else
going on, but was never pushy.

"Still, she showed up nearly every day to try to get Clark
outdoors, and when that failed, to sit with him, holding his
hand. At the time, I was really impressed and wondered if Clark
had been right in high school and Lana was the person he would
spend his life with. Now, I sort of wish she had been a little
less nice. Maybe the friendship would have ended then.

"Clark remained quiet when he went back to school, but he talked
to Lana often. By Christmas break they had made plans to travel
around the world for a year or two after college. Jonathan and I
were concerned about this – we suspected that Clark and Lana,
while still purely platonic, were going to spend a substantial
amount of time living together when they traveled, and weren't
sure how he'd keep his secret from her then.

"As it happened, Clark had the same concerns. Shortly after they
graduated, Lana had come over to discuss plans for their trip.
She was concerned about his lackadaisical attitude towards
making plane reservations and confused by it, since he was
perfectly willing to make other arrangements."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I just don't get it, Clark," Lana said again, her voice rising
slightly. "You were happy to be the one to call the hostels and
make reservations. Why not the flights? What is so special about
the flights?"

Clark said nothing, not sure how to bring up the fact that he
was hoping to fly them places himself.

"Clark?" Lana asked, her voice rising even further.

"I know, Lana. I'm trying to find a way to explain this to you,"
Clark replied, his voice still calm.

The two sat in silence for a moment or two while Clark thought,
then Lana nearly screamed, "CLARK! What the heck?"

Clark looked at her, his eyes big and round, but still had no
answer.

In a move that shocked both of them, Lana leaned forward and
grabbed Clark's hands. "Just tell me, Clark," she said, her
voice soft again. A moment later, when Clark still failed to
answer, she used their joined hands to pull Clark closer to her.
Meeting him half way, she angled her lips over his, kissing him
softly.

Pulling back from the kiss, Lana whispered, "I love you, Clark.
I've loved you for a long time. You're so important to me. I
don't get it. I just… I wish you'd make the plane reservations
or at least tell me why you won't. Is it that you don't want to
go with me?"

Clark could not help the grin that was spread widely over his
face. He tried to answer her, but all that came out were
nonsense syllables, and within seconds Lana was laughing at
him.

After they had both calmed down, Clark took a deep breath. "You
can't know how happy that makes me, Lana. I have loved you for
so long." He stopped for a moment and then took another deep
breath. "But there's something I haven't told you. A secret that
no one knows and really no one can know."

Lana shook her head in understanding, so Clark continued, "The
reason I haven't wanted to make flight decisions is because I
can't really afford to fly all over the world."

"But I thought you'd worked all the financial stuff out before
we started planning, Clark?" Lana asked, confused.

"I did, but I didn't plan for paying for flights," Clark said.

"But… but how did you plan for us to get places?"

"I… well… I'm not sure the best way to tell you this…" Clark
tried to find the right words, but failed.

"Just tell me," Lana replied.

Clark took another deep breath. "I can fly," he stated.

Lana just looked at him for a moment, waiting for more. Finally,
when she realized it was not coming she said, "What do you mean,
you can fly?"

"Just that," Clark said. "I can fly. I was hoping to fly us
places."

Lana laughed, but caught herself. "This isn't funny, Clark. I
want to make plans!"

Clark stood up and offered Lana his hand. Still looking a bit
miffed, she took it and let Clark lead her to the porch. Once
they got outside, Clark leaned down and picked Lana up.

"What are you doing?" Lana asked, laughing.

"Showing you what I mean," Clark replied.

"So, go ahead," Lana challenged him.

"I've already done so. Look down," Clark instructed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I am still impressed with Lana's composure," Martha continued.
"As opposed to Adam and Becky, Lana did not scream. She very
calmly asked Clark to put her down. Then without a word she
walked to her car and drove away.

"It was an awful night. Clark was sure that once again he had
been rejected and Jonathan and I felt that he was right, so were
not much help in reassuring him.

"The next morning, Lana knocked on the door. She looked awful –
about as bad as Clark, with dark circles under her eyes. I've
never been so glad to see anyone in my life. I was certain that
she had thought it over and decided it didn't matter to her."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hi," Lana said softly.

"Hi," Clark replied, his voice equally soft.

Without either of them noticing, Martha and Jonathan snuck
outside to give them privacy.

"Can I… can I come in?" Lana asked hesitantly.

The question made Clark's insides clench. Lana used to come and
go into his home without knocking. Had knowing his secret ruined
all of that? Without a word, he backed away from the doorway,
trying to get control of his emotions. He did not want her to
see how much he was hurting.

Lana took Clark's backing away as an invitation to come in and
walked past him to take a seat on the couch in the living room.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Clark, who had been hovering in the doorway, walked over and sat
beside her. He wanted to ask what she was sorry for – for him?
For walking out yesterday? Because they could no longer be
friends? But he could not get the words out.

"I wish I had reacted differently last night. You told me
something extremely personal and I'm touched that you shared
that with me. I'm sorry I did not know how to let you know that
last night," Lana stopped speaking for a moment and looked up.
She looked Clark in the eye and took his hand in hers. "I think
you are incredible, Clark Kent. I love you and nothing you said
yesterday changes that. I know my leaving last night hurt you
and I'm sorry. There's nothing I want more than for you to be
happy."

Clark smiled and leaned forward to wrap his arms around Lana.
"So, you'll travel with me?" he asked.

Lana pulled away from their hug. "We should talk about this."
She saw Clark's eyes fall and she tugged on his hand a bit. "I
guess I should start by saying that yes, I do still want to
spend the next year traveling with you."

Clark smiled a bit, but was not sure what to make of Lana's
tone.

"But, I'm not sure if it's the right decision." Seeing the look
in Clark's eyes, she rushed to explain, "I just… I need time to
think this through, Clark. You've had twenty years to adjust to
who you are. I've only had a night. I just… I need some time to
think. To decide if this is still something that I can do. I
don't want to give you any false hope, and I just don't feel
ready to decide right now." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"It was a long morning, and at the end of it Lana and Clark
agreed to think about their plan to travel some more and meet
again the next morning," Martha said.

"When Lana came back the next day, she only looked slightly
better. Clark actually looked worse. He needs less sleep than
the rest of us, so the previous day he looked awful, but it was
all emotional. He didn't sleep the next night either, he was so
terrified of what Lana would say, and the lack of sleep was
catching up with him."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I'm not sure what I was thinking yesterday, Clark. Nothing you
told me changes the fact that you are still the same gentle,
kind Smallville farm boy I fell in love with," Lana said almost
the instant she walked in. "I'm sorry, it just took me a little
bit of time to see that."

Clark was beaming and could not seem to get the smile off of his
face long enough to get words out past his throat. Finally,
sensing it was not going to happen, he walked up to Lana, and
dipping his head towards hers, captured her lips in sweet kiss.

Lana smiled as he pulled away. "Clark, there's still a lot to
talk about," she clarified.

"Okay," Clark replied quietly. "Whatever you want."

Lana smiled at his happiness. He was like a little boy at
Christmas. "I do want to spend the next year with you, and I
can't wait to see all those wonderful places with you, but
Clark, I do want to take things slowly."

"As slow as you want," Clark said, his face serious now. "I know
this is hard, Lana."

"But you're worth it, I know you are," she whispered as she
moved in for another kiss. She backed away a moment later. "No,
no more of that. I really do want to take things slowly."

Clark laughed, happy to see she was going to have as much
trouble with that as he was. 

"Clark," Lana started and her tone brought a halt to his
laughter. "Would you mind terribly if we made plans to meet
places while we traveled?" She rushed to explain at the look of
confusion in his eyes, "I know you don't need to take a plane to
get places and you can't afford to, but my parents are still
willing to pay my airfare and I'm just not ready to fly with you
yet. I just need a little more time. Besides, I don't have a
good reason to tell my parents why I don't need their money
anymore."

Clark's eyes looked sad, but he nodded his head. She was right
about her parents and he understood her fear, although he wished
he did not feel so much that she was afraid of him. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, for three months Lana and Clark traveled throughout
Europe," Martha said. "Clark would meet Lana at the airport for
each stop. He came home often during that time – maybe once a
week. For the first month of the trip, he came home with his
eyes alight with the things he was seeing and experiencing.
There were also changes taking place, though. Clark had never
spent time in large cities before. When he was in Smallville, he
had not really had much opportunity to share his gifts with
others except to help Jonathan on the farm.

"But as he traveled, he realized how much he could do to help
people. He started going out at night, dressed in black so as
not to be seen, saving people and diverting small natural
disasters. He was really enjoying it; he felt like he had
finally determined what he was here for. But, slowly the joy he
felt was slipping away.

"At the end of three months, Clark came home with his things.
Lana had never gotten to the point of wanting to progress their
romantic relationship. As Clark started going out in his black
outfit more and more, she got increasingly agitated with him.

"Finally, they both decided it wasn't working. Lana said she
couldn't share him with the world. Clark asked how she expected
him to stand by when he could do so much, and Lana said she
understood the dilemma, she just thought she deserved more than
he could give her. 

"Additionally, Clark was constantly feeling the need to move on
when he felt like others were starting to link him to the help
he was providing. This was fine while they were traveling, but
understandably, Lana felt that this was no way to live a life.

"Clark stayed home for two weeks feeling depressed, before he
started traveling again. While he got over the blow from Lana,
it had taken its toll. Clark became convinced that he would
never get the opportunity to settle down and have a life unless
he gave up helping others.

"Over time, Clark moved on, but never seemed as happy as we
would have liked him to be. 

"And then he met you.

"In the first week he met you, we knew he was in love. His whole
face lit up when he spoke about you in a way we hadn't seen
since Lana. And the things he said were so much more realistic.
While I know Clark adored Lana, I never felt like his crush
moved on from the silly schoolyard one it started out as. With
you, though, even from the beginning, Clark spoke of your faults
as well as your strengths. And he beamed regardless of which he
talked about.

"And then when you met Superman, he let himself hope again. You
seemed so taken with the superhero, Clark thought you might be
the one person who could accept that part of him. The only
sticking point was that you seemed less than taken with Clark. 

"Which brings us to the main point of this – understanding what
went through Clark's mind the day he died. I know you think the
whole thing is a fallacy, but the truth is, Lois, Clark Kent
died that day, regardless of whether the body that held Clark
Kent did. One thing you need to know about Clark – he always
said that Clark was who he was, Superman is what he can do.

"Clark was crushed when he was shot. When he reached us, he
looked so lost. Jonathan immediately pointed out that he could
just go back to Metropolis and be Superman, but Clark quickly
responded that that wasn't enough – Superman's relationship with
Jimmy and Perry was cordial, but they weren't friends. Even his
relationship with you was not the same as Clark's.

"Honestly, we only talked about you briefly the first night.
Maybe this was selfish, or maybe it wasn't, but Clark really
didn't think you'd be that upset. He said he thought it was
better not to talk to you – he thought you'd be upset that
night, but move on fast, and seeing Superman may just depress
you, reminding you that Superman and Clark were friends.

"But the next day, Perry called. He mentioned that you were
devastated. Clark was stunned to hear it and immediately began
talking about going back to Metropolis to tell you that he was
all right. He had even flown above the farmhouse when Lana
showed up, calling to him.

"Lana married Adam a few years before that and they live a few
towns over from Smallville. Clark hadn't talked to her since
they came back from Europe years ago, so you can imagine his
surprise when she showed up.

"Lana had heard the news about Clark's death and had come over
to say how sorry she was. She knew how important 'Clark' was to
Clark. I think…, no, I know, that she really was just trying to
help. I need to keep reminding myself that Lana is a good person
– she really is. She didn't mean to keep breaking my boy's
heart." Martha's voice broke. She took a few ragged breaths
before continuing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Clark," Lana called out the window, as she turned down the
driveway. Clark looked up in shock; he had checked to make sure
he was alone before taking off and had not noticed the car
coming down the road.

He dropped from the sky in surprise. It had been years since he
had seen Lana. "Hi, Lana," he called to her as she exited her
car.

"Do you have a minute?" Lana asked, as if she and Clark were
still best friends.

"Actually, I was on my way out. Could you wait maybe an hour? I
have an errand to run," Clark said.

"Clark, I heard. You're dead. What sort of errand does a dead
man have to run?" She grinned at him.

Clark's face was grim at the reminder of the current situation.
"I know, but I do have something I need to do."

"More important than seeing an old friend?" Lana asked.

Clark glanced at the ground. "I need to see someone in
Metropolis," he explained. At Lana's raised eyebrows, he
continued, "She's so upset about my death, Lana. I need to let
her know that I'm really okay."

"Oh, Clark," Lana said, her voice full of compassion and pity.
"Are you sure you really want to do that?"

Clark smiled at her softly. "Thanks for the concern, Lana, but I
need to go. I love her and I can't stand the idea of her
hurting. There's no other way to make her feel better. I know I
can trust her with this. She's my best friend."

"But Clark, take a minute and really think this through. How
will it really help her to know that you're alive? What is she
going to do? She'll still need to act like she thinks you're
dead."

"But acting like she thinks I'm dead is different than thinking
it," Clark said, although he sounded less convinced now than
before.

"Clark, I think you're great. You know I do, but what can you
really offer this woman now that you're dead?"

Clark looked at the ground. He had been all set to interrupt
her. How was he supposed to know that Lana thought he was great?
He had not talked to her in years. But he decided to put that
aside and think about the question Lana asked instead.

What could he really offer Lois? "Comfort," he said to Lana as
he thought of it.

"For how long, Clark?" Lana asked, placing her hand on his arm.
"How long will she really feel better once she realizes there's
no hope for Clark Kent to ever be alive again?"

"It's different than with you, Lana. Lois is the closest thing
Superman has to a friend."

"But what would that be like for the two of you when there is no
Clark? Could Superman and Lois have a real relationship? Look,
Clark, I'm not trying to be mean here. But before you go to see
her, think about what you can really offer her as Superman and
if that would really make her happy."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Martha's voice cracked and she cried silently for a minute
before taking a deep breath and talking again.

"Maybe Clark should have known better, but it was so deeply
ingrained in him – he had learned only too well that no one
could want him for who he really was. He was left feeling like
without Clark he had nothing to offer you and you were better
off thinking he had died, than knowing he hadn't but was nothing
more than a freak now. His words, Becky's words, not mine,"
Martha said to Lois' look of surprise.

"He rethought about telling you every few months for the first
two years, but each time he'd come back to those hurtful
thoughts – that he had nothing to offer you. Jonathan and I
tried to tell him that this wasn't true, that you were
different. Even Jonathan, who had never wanted Clark to tell
anyone. Each time, though, Clark would say that it was true that
you're different – you wouldn't want him to feel like you didn't
want him as Superman – but in reality, like Becky and Lana, you
wouldn't want him like that. It wasn't fair to you – you
deserved better than to be with a freak."

Martha paused, and Lois still sat in silence not sure what to
say. Both women were startled by a knock at the door. Lois, on
shaky legs, walked over to open it. And then, she gasped.

Clark leaned on her doorway, dirty and worn looking. There were
multiple tears in his suit, circles under his eyes (which Lois
had never seen before), and cuts on his arms and face. He said
nothing, just looked at her silently. Lois grabbed his hand and
pulled him inside.

He showed no surprise, or even recognition, of his mother being
there and said nothing for a moment. Then, without a word, he
crumbled to the ground.

Martha was the first to move, kneeling next to Clark and
grabbing his hand. She put a hand on his forehead and gave a
sigh of relief when she realized he was not running a fever.

Lois appeared beside her, holding out a cordless phone. "I
thought you might want to call Jonathan," she explained in a
soft voice.

Martha nodded in agreement, not trusting herself to speak. She
dialed the number with one hand, keeping the other tightly in
Clark's grasp.

When Jonathan answered the phone, she took a breath, trying to
sound calm, "Clark is at Lois'," she started.

Immediately hearing the panic in his wife's voice, he replied,
"What's wrong with him?"

"I don't know. He collapsed on her floor. He has cuts on his
arms, but no fever."

"Not Kryptonite, then. He always runs a fever with Kryptonite,"
Jonathan thought out loud. "Or," he continued, "there was
Kryptonite, but he got away from it."

Martha grabbed on to this thought, nodding her head in
agreement, forgetting that Jonathan could not see her. She
silently watched as Lois gently ran a washcloth over Clark's
face, wiping away the dirt.

"Martha?" Jonathan called to her.

"I'm here. You're probably right," she said.

"I'm going to pack a bag. I'll call you before I leave for the
airport," Jonathan replied before hanging up the phone.

Martha placed the phone down, her eyes still trained on her
son's face. Lois continued to wash Clark's face, concern showing
clearly on her own.

Clark moaned, whispering, "Lois?" as he struggled to open his
eyes.

Both women sighed in relief. "I'm here, Clark," Lois replied.

Clark opened his eyes fully and took in his surroundings. "I'm
fine," he told the two women.

"I'd say your presence on my floor makes that seem unlikely,"
Lois replied.

Clark gently pulled his hand out of his mother's hand and
struggled to sit up.

"What happened, Clark?" Martha asked.

"I…I'm fine, Mom, really. There was k…k…kryptonite near the site
of the earthquake. Not a lot, mostly d…d…dust," Clark said,
though his voice was still weak.

"But, if it wasn't much…" Martha started, but stopped when Clark
put his hand on hers.

"I couldn't l…l…leave, Mom, there was s…s…so much to do. I guess
I should have w…w…waited before I came back here, though," he
mused.

"Why didn't you go home so you could rest?" Martha asked.

"I… I came to give L…L…Lois her s…s…story," Clark said lamely.

"Lot of good it will do me when you can barely talk," Lois said,
but her tone was gentle.

Clark smiled slightly.

"You need rest," Martha insisted, picking up the phone when it
rang. "He's fine," she said into the handset. She could hear
Jonathan give a sigh of relief similar to the ones she and Lois
had given a few moments ago.

"Can you get up?" Lois asked Clark while Martha finished her
phone call, telling Jonathan there was no need to come.

"Maybe," Clark said, although he looked like he was struggling
when he tried. Lois moved to help him, and a moment later,
Martha joined, too. Soon they had Clark standing, his weight
supported between them both.

"You should sleep," Lois demanded. "Let's move you to my bed."

"I c…c…can't take your b…b…bed, Lois. And I need to shower
f…f…first."

"You can't stand on your own. How are you going to shower?" Lois
asked, logically.

"I'll manage," Clark insisted, his voice sounding stronger. "I'm
s…s…so dirty. I c…c…can't sit on anything l…l…like this."

Martha and Lois helped Clark into the bathroom and into the
shower stall. They left him, at his instruction, leaning against
the wall.

"He'll be okay," Martha assured Lois when they returned to the
living room.

Lois nodded, moving to pick up the washcloth from earlier and
busying herself with cleaning it in the kitchen. She tried to
imagine how kryptonite found its way to Australia, but could
not. She thought of anything she could to keep off the idea off
of Clark weak and dirty in her shower.

A few minutes later, she heard her bathroom door open, and
leaning heavily on the wall, wrapped in a towel, Clark emerged,
making his way slowly to the couch.

"Oh, no you don't!" Lois ordered. "The other way, Clark. Into my
room."

Martha moved over to place her hand over Clark's, clearly in
agreement with Lois. She helped him turn around and guided him
towards Lois' room and into her bed.

Clark, looking childlike and small under the blanket, smiled at
Lois. "What about your s…s…story?" he asked.

"After you've slept. Preferably when you can talk again," Lois
said, keeping her tone even.

Clark nodded slowly, his eyelids dropping closed. "Thank you,"
he whispered.

Martha leaned down to kiss Clark on the forehead before both
women left the room. 

"Are you all right?" Lois asked Martha gently as they re-entered
the living room.

Martha nodded, sitting down on the couch. Placing a hand on
Lois' arm, she asked, "You?"

Lois nodded. "How long will it take for the effects of the
kryptonite to wear off?"

"I'm not sure," Martha said softly. "He doesn't usually stick
around when he feels it. I can't imagine how kryptonite even got
near Australia. We've only found it near Smallville before – in
the area where his space ship landed."

Lois stared blankly ahead of her, trying to answer this
question. Perhaps there was a story here. Was it possible that
someone had planted kryptonite in Australia? If they had, why do
it in these little villages?

Lois was distracted by the feel of Martha's hand on her arm.
"Take a break, Lois. The story can wait." Martha was smiling at
her and Lois found herself smiling back. Martha was right. She
was tired. A short break made sense.

"So," Martha began, leaning her head against the back of the
couch. "Tell me what you've been up to. Clark has told us some
things, but, well, you know, without talking to you, there's a
lot we don't know. How did you get to San Diego? What have you
been doing since you got here?"

Lois sighed, and feeling sleepy she followed Martha's example
and laid her head back. "My sister, Lucy, got married and had a
daughter. It's hard to believe, considering how flaky Lucy used
to be, but she's really got her act together now. Her husband,
Sean, is fantastic and Lucy has a great job as a paralegal.
Anyway, originally I just came for a visit to see my niece, but
Lucy and Sean were looking for someone to watch Sammy while they
were at work and I was at loose ends, so I stayed."

Martha turned her head slightly to look at Lois more closely.
"Why were you at loose ends? I never understood. Clark would
check on you and come back with these stories of what you were
doing. They never made sense – you had always seemed so strong
to me and yet you seemed to melt away. What happened?"

Lois tried not to smile. She had forgotten how blunt Martha
could be. 

She could feel Martha's eyes on her, but stared straight ahead,
not wanting to hear the sob she could feel building in her
throat at the answer to Martha's question. "I don't know," she
whispered. "It was like a downward spiral. After Clark died, I
was consumed with energy. I felt this intense need to catch
Capone and his goons. I wanted nothing more than to avenge
Clark's death.

"But once I did that, it was like all the fight went out of me.
Perry gave me small stories thinking I just needed some time,
but I just never wanted anything bigger. Once or twice I woke up
and felt the old fire inside and convinced myself that this was
the day things were going to change. But then I'd get to the
Planet and see Clark's desk and all the fight went out of me.

"I thought quitting was the answer, moving to a new paper. I
thought I just had to stop having to confront all those memories
of Clark. So, I quit. I still felt listless, though – I couldn't
work up the energy to look for a new job. I just felt so guilty.
I forced Clark into the club that night – he didn't want to go.
If I had listened to him, he would still be alive."

"Honey," Martha interjected. "Clark is an adult. He makes his
own decisions. Even if he had died that night, it wouldn't be
your fault. He could have said no."

Lois shrugged, then quietly replied, "I get that now, but at the
time, all I could think of was that I knew that Clark would do
anything for me. I abused that all the time, always pushing to
get my way. I was lucky nothing had happened before that."

"Anyway," she continued, "I had a little bit of money saved up,
so it wasn't a problem to be out of work. Besides, I didn't have
too many expenses aside from rent. I was barely eating and spent
most of my time asleep, so my electricity bill was low. Lucy
visited and told me I needed help; she said I was clinically
depressed. Even Superman…" Lois' voice trailed off for a second
as she comprehended what she was about to say, remembering
something she had not thought about since she realized Superman
and Clark were the same person.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You need help, Lois," Superman said, his voice firm, arms
folded across his chest. "If you won't go see a doctor
voluntarily, I'll take you there myself."

"It's my life, Superman," Lois spat. "I don't need your help."

Superman sat down on her bed, looking dejected. "Please, Lois.
I'm worried about you," he said softly. He reached out to take
her hand, but she pulled away from him.

"If you had really cared about me, you would have been there
that day," Lois said, her voice still hard.

He sighed, looking guiltily at the floor. "You're right. I
should have been."

"But you weren't. You didn't help me then, and I don't need your
help now. It's not like you will even explain where you were."

Looking at her earnestly, Superman reached for her hand again,
but again she pulled away from him. "I'll make you a deal, Lois.
You let me take you to the hospital or you get help on your own,
and I'll tell you where I was that day."

Lois looked at him more closely. "You told me you couldn't say,"
she reminded him, her voice wary.

"And I shouldn't, but it's that important to me that you get
help," he replied, his voice soft.

Lois thought for a moment and was about to accept – just to find
out where he had been, but then she felt tricked, blackmailed.

"No, I don't need help."

Superman got up and she thought she had won, but he moved closer
and placed his arms under her, lifting her into his arms. "I'm
sorry, Lois," he said. "I don't agree. I don't want to force
you, but you look malnourished and depressed. I can't leave you
like this." His voice was anguished and Lois knew she was about
to lose.

Her competitive nature came out in full force, and in a quiet
but completely calm voice she said, "No, I don't need help from
you, Superman. Put me down, you, you… Alien!"

She knew she had won the moment she saw his face. He lay her
back down on the bed, his eyes showing his surprise at her
words.

He moved back towards her door, turning around once he was
there. "Lois, please, consider getting help. I am worried about
you," he whispered, the sob audible in his voice.

Then, with a whoosh, he was gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lois looked at Martha, guilt on her face. "I didn't mean it, I
was just so angry at him," she whispered.

Martha nodded. "I know, Lois. I'm sure Clark did, too."

"He came back the next day," Lois said quietly. "And the day
after that. But I had discovered the way to fight. As long as I
called him names, he wouldn't force the issue, just keep asking
me to get help. And somehow, getting my own way proved to me
that I didn't need help. Sometimes, I even liked it. It made me
feel strong. If I could overpower Superman, I couldn't be that
weak, couldn't really need help."

Lois paused for a moment, thinking over Martha's reply. "He
didn't tell you?" she asked. "He didn't tell you the names I
called him?"

Martha shook her head slightly.

Finding it difficult to keep the sob out of her voice now, Lois
took a deep breath before saying, "I called him an alien. A
freak. A genetic mutation. Anything I could to keep him from
taking me the hospital."

Martha grabbed her hand. "It was different, Lois, and I'm sure
Clark knew it. That's why he never told us. He knew you didn't
mean it; you were just trying to keep your distance."

"But they hurt him, I knew they did. I could see it in his eyes
– it's how I knew I was winning, but I just kept saying them day
after day, as long as they worked." Lois took a deep breath
trying to calm her voice. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She heard his soft landing from her bedroom. Drat! She had meant
to lock the windows earlier.

"Go away, Superman," she called, but her voice lacked its normal
venom.

Heedless of her request, Superman walked into her room, leaning
against the doorframe. "Lois, you need help," he stated.

"I don't need your help, you freak!" she said, grinning inwardly
when she saw him flinch. It didn't seem to matter how many names
she called him, he never seemed to expect it. And the flinch was
just the precursor. She knew it would take less than a minute to
get Superman out of her apartment today.

"I'm sorry, Lois," he whispered as he came closer, "I don't want
to force this, but you need help."

"And how can you help me, you freak of nature?" Lois asked, then
cringed slightly. She had already used freak – she needed to get
more creative. 

Superman did not respond this time, although she could see the
hurt in his eyes. He walked to the side of her bed and lifted
her into his arms. Without a word, he carried her back to the
window in her living room and lifted them both outside.

"Put me down!" Lois yelled, "What do you think you're doing?
This is kidnapping!" she insisted.

Superman said nothing, but a few moments later dropped to the
ground outside a small office building. Keeping Lois in his
arms, he walked inside. Lois saw the nameplate outside the
office door he opened – "Shari Wilson, MD".

"I don't need a doctor, you mutant!" she said, her voice quiet,
although her tone was anything but friendly.

"See her for me, Lois?" Superman asked, "If she agrees with you,
I won't ask again."

"Why would I do anything for you?" Lois asked.

"Because I care about you. So much," he whispered, his hand in
her hair.

He placed her down, but kept a tight hold on her arm as he
announced her presence to the receptionist.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I was so angry at him," Lois told Martha. "I didn't want to see
a shrink and didn't see how it could help." Lois' voice trailed
off for a moment, and she took stock of her apartment.

"But in the end, it felt good to see Dr. Wilson. I started
eating again and thought about looking for work. The best part
was that once I started seeing Dr. Wilson regularly, Superman
stopped coming by. That was the deal we made and he stuck to it.

"I couldn't stand to see him – he reminded me of everything that
went wrong that night," Lois paused for a moment, but Martha
said nothing.

"I took the job at the Boston Globe because the Globe wasn't a
small paper, and yet it was completely different than the
Planet. When I first walked in, I thought it would be different.
There were no memories of Clark there."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lois paused before entering the newsroom. It only took a short
look around before she realized that her reputation had preceded
her. No one there looked happy to see her.

She saw the Globe's editor, Ryan Jackson, speaking to a reporter
on the other side of the room. Ryan seemed nice enough – he was
in his late sixties, but had no writing experience. His
background was in general management, having obtained an MBA
from Harvard in the 1950s and working in a variety of businesses
since then.

She knew he thought getting Lois Lane to join the staff was
quite a coup. She only hoped she could deliver what it was he
was expecting.

The first week was hard, but she knew it would be. But it wasn't
getting easier. No one wanted to work with her, Ryan was
increasingly disappointed in her copy, and Lois was dreading
coming into work more each day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"It was almost like I just couldn't hack it anymore," she said.
"Like nothing worked without Clark. Ryan put me on smaller and
smaller stories until I was barely reporting the news anymore.

"I hated it, but I knew I couldn't complain. It wasn't Ryan's
fault my ability to write had seemed to die with Clark.

"I never really built a life in Boston. I didn't make any
friends. Aside from Superman, no one had been into my apartment.
And he hadn't come since shortly after I moved there."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lois was surprised by the knock on the door; she had not given
anyone her address. Opening it, she was even more surprised when
she saw Superman on the other side, holding a box.

"Didn't take you long to track me down, did it?" Lois asked,
hearing the bitterness in her voice and not caring.

Superman did not say anything to this, but held the box out for
her. "Congratulations on the new job, Lois," he said, his voice
soft. "I wanted to bring you a house-warming gift and thought
you'd like this better than a plant."

Lois glanced at the box, realized it was a case of Double Fudge
Crunch bars, and smiled despite herself. "Thank you," she said,
her voice softer than before.

While she did not invite him in, she left the door open while
she moved to the living room to place the box down, and he
followed her. Lois turned around, unsure what to say. She almost
laughed at how out of place Superman looked.

Taking a seat on her new sofa, Superman grinned at her. "This is
much more comfortable than the one you had in Metropolis," he
teased.

Lois felt her whole body stiffen and she struggled with an
appropriate reply. Clark used to tease her about how
uncomfortable her couch was. Had he told Superman, or was the
comment just a coincidence?

Suddenly, Lois forgot all about the box of chocolates. She just
wanted Superman to leave her alone. "What are you doing here,
Superman?" she asked, her voice cold again.

The grin immediately wiped off his face, Superman fumbled for
something to say. "I just… I just wanted to check on you. See
how you were doing."

Again with the reminders of Clark – his voice, his tonality, it
was all fumbling Clark Kent rather than Superman. She wanted him
out now – all he did was remind her of Clark. She did not want
Superman's cheap imitation Clark around.

"I'm fine, and I don't need you checking up on me," she told
him, standing up and moving toward the door.

Looking lost and embarrassed, Superman made his way to the door.
He placed a hand on Lois' shoulder. "You know I'll always be
your friend, right, Lo