Nightmare -- Part 5

"I admit, I was a fool not to tell you about my being Superman before we made love, but . . ." He trailed off, not exactly wanting to complete his sentence.

"But what?" she demanded.

"You said . . ."

**********

"Take off your glasses," she whispered.

His heart raced. "My glasses?"

"Take them off. I want to look into your eyes."

Without a second thought, Clark removed his glasses and set them on the nightstand, happy to do anything his lover asked. He knew the consequences of removing his disguise. Without his glasses, Lois was sure to see that he was Superman, but that didn't matter. He had to tell her the truth about himself before anything else happened.

Lois smiled widely. "I don't think I've ever seen you without those before."

He shook his head. "No, you haven't," he said through gritted teeth.

"Has anyone every told you how much you look like Superman?" she whispered, as she brought her head up until her lips were just inches away from his.

"Lois, I have to tell you . . ." He trailed off, forgetting what he was going to say entirely, as her lips captured his again.

She pulled away for a second, and said, "Every woman in love thinks her man looks like Superman."

He pulled away from her kiss, and whispered, "I am Superman."

Their bodies melded together as one, and his mind went almost completely blank. The only thing he could think was that this feeling was better than anything he had ever imagined

**********

"Lois," Clark breathed, "I hadn't planned to go all the way. It happened. You were on top of me, and the passion took over. I don't know how I ended up inside you, but I did. And it was amazing."

“Oh my god,” was all she could say.

He ran a hand through his hair before he continued, "You came to my house, practically undressed me yourself, and then we made the most incredible love."

"Didn't you realize I wasn't myself?"

He took a deep breath, the pain growing in his heart. "I thought you had finally fallen for me, like I'd hoped and prayed you would for so long. I've been in love with you from the first moment I saw you. You have no idea what it felt like to have to say those words to me."

She shook her head, unable to listen to anything more he had to say. Men. God, she certainly knew how to pick them. For someone so smart, she certainly had a horrible track record. They were all after one thing. Sex. She'd thought Clark Kent was different. And he had the audacity to call what they had done 'making love'. Lois had never 'made love'. Everything including last night had been pure, raw sex where the man wasn't emotionally involved, and she was incredibly emotionally involved.

This time, it was different. Both Clark and Superman had been the only men in the world she had trusted implicitly. But they he had done something unthinkable. Not only had the two men she had trusted turned out to be one horribly deceitful scumbag, but he certainly wasn't the safe, purely good man she had envisioned. She hadn't been herself or in control of any of her decisions. And he had taken advantage of her. "Clark, you don't understand. I wasn't myself. I didn't consent. You *knew* what you did was wrong, yet you still did it."

He put his hand on top of hers and said, “Lois, you *did* consent. You came on to me. You invited me into the bedroom. You made love with me . . .”

She pulled her hand away and began pacing around the room, her dismay growing with each step. "Stop saying 'made love'. We didn't make love, Clark. You had hot, wild sex with a drunk or drugged android." The words didn’t sound right coming out of her mouth, but she couldn’t stop herself. She took a deep breath and said, "You raped me."

"I what? How?"

"You raped me. You took advantage of me when I was in a compromised state."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Lois, you seduced me!"

"Define seduction. I didn't know what I was doing."

He threw his hands up into the air. "Lois, you were the aggressor."

She stopped in front of him and said, "I wasn't myself."

He took a deep breath, trying to control his emotions. “Lois, how could I know you weren’t yourself? I’m not a mind reader.”

She squinted her eyes at him angrily. “How do I know that, Superman.”

“Believe me, I’m not. Lois, you came to my house, fed me, and came on to me. Other than that, you seemed normal. I didn’t notice anything wrong. I thought this was what you wanted."

She threw her hands up into the air. "How could I have wanted this, liar?" she hissed.

"Maybe you should go," he whispered, voice shaking too much to speak any louder. He was so hurt and so angry at the same time. How dare Lois say those things about him.

"You aren't going to follow me?" She stood up and took a few steps towards the door.

He shook his head, unable to say anything to challenge her. When she was finally at the door, he said, "You really don't remember anything?"

"Nothing," she said as she walked out the door, out of his life forever.

His life was ruined. The love of his life had accused him of an unspeakable crime, and now he had no idea what to do. He knew he hadn't raped her, but he had no idea how to tell her that . . . and have her believe him.

Maybe he hadn't noticed any of the signs. What if he had been so enraptured by the thought that she finally loved him that he had ignored the fact that she had seemed different? What if he really had misread her signals? It had seemed like she had wanted him just as much as he had wanted her.

If he had done what she'd said he had, he should be locked away for years. And Superman was dead. He had no right to claim to be the world's hero. What he had thought was so right, so meant to be, had turned out to be a horrible mistake.

**********

She was free.

Lois took a breath of fresh air, her lungs no longer constricted by fear, but her mind racing uncontrollably.

That was a bit melodramatic. If she really though about it, Clark hadn't been keeping her prisoner exactly. He had seemed willing to let her go. She tried to listen to his story with a dispassionate ear, but he had struck a cord with her. At points it had seemed like he had been imagining a horrific story, but at other times it had seemed like he was almost telling the truth. As long as she had known both Clark and Superman, he had never lied to her. Well, other than the biggest lie in the world.

Once a liar, always a liar. She couldn't believe he hadn't told her he was Superman before he had slept with her. What kind of louse was he? Plus, she didn't believe that Clark or especially Superman was a virgin! He was a good liar, but with this one, he had gone too far over the top.

She couldn't believe she wasn't more upset that he had been lying to her almost since the moment he met her. What she was upset about, actually, was the fact that he had thought she had come over to his apartment and practically begged for sex! Like she would *ever* beg for sex with *anyone*.

Even if he thought she would instantly sleep with Superman if he had merely offered, he was sorely mistaken. The reason she had fallen so hard for the superhero was that he was someone she could never have. If he would have returned the same interest, she would have probably ran and hid. Her past relationships had been such disasters that she guarded herself very closely. Not even Superman could have penetrated her fortress of solitude.

The slightly chilly breeze brushed against her face, and she shivered involuntarily. She picked up her pace and almost jogged the few blocks home.

She believed at least part of his story. He probably hadn't been the one who had drugged her. That didn't fit with what she knew of both Clark and Superman. It seemed against his character for him to turn so evil so quickly.

However, he had to have known she wasn't herself, and that was still rape. He knew her better than that. She would never come to his apartment with dinner in exchange for sex! He didn’t find that a little odd? She hadn't been in any state of mind to consent. Therefore, he had forced himself on her. It didn't matter if she seemed like she was asking for it. Rape was a power issue, and maybe he had wanted to prove that he wasn’t the sissy she was always walking all over.

After all, yesterday morning hadn't been fun for him. She had told him repeatedly that he was a sub-par reporter, and that he was more worthy of a stupid story about bugs than real hard news. He probably wanted to prove something to her. And what better way to show her that he could dominate her in at least one area of life. But again that didn't seem like the Clark or the Superman she had known. Now that her head was clear, she could really focus on what had really happened.

It would help if she could remember anything from yesterday at all. She also couldn't let Clark's story influence her memories. This she needed to remember on her own.

She approached her apartment quickly, and was overcome with an urge to run inside and take a shower to get all of the dirty, disgusting feelings off her body. Her eyes drifted down to the paper resting on the doormat. Aah, comfort. The "Daily Planet". At last something familiar.

She picked it up without looking at it, and she began turning each of the locks sequentially, and the door swung open. Home. After a hot shower and a change of clothes, and a strong cup of coffee, maybe she would be able to think.

She entered her living room, and tossed the paper down on the couch unable to look at it yet. Her eyes drifted to her coffee table which was covered by a stack of papers. Notes from an interview with Gale Jensen at the PCD. For the fruit fly story.
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She tossed the papers down onto the table and leaned back on the couch. The tension that had built up behind her eyes was almost unbearable, and her headache from before hadn't really dissipated. It wouldn't go away until she figured out this whole mess.

When she leaned back on the couch to put her head down for a moment, she felt the paper under her head. She pulled it out and looked at it. Her jaw dropped in shock. "What the hell?"

On the 'Daily Planet' logo, all of the a's and o's had been turned into bright red hearts! Even worse, there were little cupids down either side of the front page, and the leading story was titled, 'Love Wins Out!'

“What!” She shook her head slowly. “Is this a joke?” Even worse, was this actually the real 'Daily Planet'?

Lois quickly grabbed the phone and dialed her editor's office. After three rings, Perry’s gruff voice came over the line. He breathlessly said, "Talk to me, I'm your hunk-a hunk-a burnin' love."

"What?" she exclaimed. "Perry, it's Lois. I saw the morning edition, and . . ."

"Wonderful, isn't it. Olsen designed the new logo and the graphics people made those cute little cupids. And Ralph turned in a masterpiece of a leading story!"

"What! You led with a story about a couple who had been reunited after fifty years apart? By Ralph?"

"Rahelia!" the editor exclaimed, and the phone went dead before Lois could do anything.

"Perry, Perry, are you there?" When her only answer was a dial tone, Lois sighed and hung up the phone. Something was going on in the newsroom, and needed to find out what it was.

As much as her head still hurt, she knew she needed to get in to work as soon as possible to figure this out. But first she needed to shower and get dressed. She still felt so dirty after everything that had happened.

She stood up, ready to take her shower, her eyes rested on her blinking answering machine. With great trepidation, she pressed the button and Lex Luthor's voice filled her room. Oh god, she'd completely forgotten about him!

"Lois, darling, I'm calling to confirm our dinner reservations for tomorrow night."

Then the machine had continued to record after she had picked up the phone.

"Lex!" she heard herself exclaim. "Just the person I wanted to talk to. I was about to call you."

"Oh really?" he drawled, sounding very proud of himself.

"I can't have dinner with you tomorrow night."

"Oh," he said, his voice tinted with surprise. "Might I ask why?"

"You see, I can't have dinner with you because my heart belongs to someone else."

"Someone else?"

"Clark Kent."

"Kent?" he hissed, irritation evident in his voice.

Seemingly oblivious to his displeasure, she continued, "There is only one man in the world for me. I am completely, utterly, undeniably in love with Clark Kent."

"Kent?" he hissed again, his obvious displeasure growing.

"I want to spend the rest of my life with him, so I'm really sorry, but I can't have dinner with you any more. That would be like cheating on Clark."

"Kent."

"Exactly, Clark Kent, my love, my lover, my dreamboat." She paused for a second before she continued, "Good bye Lex. I'm sorry. The heart works in mysterious ways."

Before Lex could respond, the answering machine cut off.

Lois felt her cheeks redden and her jaw drop considerably. She had broken up with Lex Luthor and had told him that she was in love with Clark? God, she had sounded so brazen, so inconsiderate, so completely set on the fact that Clark Kent was her dream lover. No wonder Lex had sounded so taken aback! It was like she had lost all of her manners, and her every sense of common courtesy!

She closed her eyes and ran her hands through her long hair in frustration. How on Earth had this happened?

When she opened her eyes, she inadvertently glanced down at the notes scattered on the table. "Oh my god," she found herself whispering.

On the top page of notes, she saw doodles in her own handwriting, large hearts with arrows through them reading 'LL + CK 4-ever!' and 'Lois Loves Clark!' and, even worse, 'Lois Lane Kent'.

What had come over her? It was like she had been possessed by a completely different person for the last day! It looked like everyone she knew was possessed by the same psychopath.

What if Clark had been telling the truth?

**********

Clark closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep to forget about what had happened in the last twelve hours. Most of it had been the most wonderful time of his life. But then it had all gone to hell as quickly and as unexpectedly as it had begun last night.

Rape. Superman. Lois. Rape.

Didn't she know he would never do anything like that? What if she had gone to the police after she had left his apartment? Why hadn't he followed her? What if she had told someone about him? Was his world about to come crashing down around him? If she didn't remember anything that had happened yesterday or acknowledge that his version of the story had been true, how could he blame her for at least some of the assumptions she had made? Logically, they worked, but if she examined her logic, she would see that it was ludicrous.

Clark floated a few inches up from his couch, and sighed deeply. How had he gotten into this situation? He had made the mistake of loving Lois Lane and letting those feelings become all-consuming. He hadn't questioned her enough. He hadn't doubted his own emotions. Regardless of what he had done wrong, the only thing that was important was that he hadn't raped her. She had been a more than willing participant.

He rolled over in the air and covered his head with his hands. How had it come to this? Even though she had accused him of a heinous crime, he was still cursed to love her. It was completely irrational, but there was that undeniable force pulling him to her, no matter how badly she treated him. At this moment he didn't really like her, and he couldn't respect her skills as an investigative journalist here; she hadn't looked at any of the facts objectively. Yet he couldn't hate her, as hard as he tried.

And oh, he had tried. He wasn't a masochist.

He crashed down onto the couch and put his head in his hands, fighting the urge to scream in frustration. Why had he been cursed to love Lois Lane? Why was he such a spineless fool? He loved her even though she hated him with an unrivaled passion. That love was unconditional and never-ending.

Why did he want her so badly when she kept treating him so horribly? No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't force himself to stop loving her. She had called him stupid, a hick, a sub par reporter, and far worse on a daily basis ever since the day he'd met her.

Although she had a tendency to be somewhat controlling at times, and often had unfair double standards, he knew it was a defense mechanism. Deep down, she was loyal, supportive, and, dare he say, loving. On those rare instances when she let her guard slip, she let him know that she cared for him, too, even if only for a moment.

In her life, she had been hurt so often and so deeply. She found it hard to open her heart to anyone. He knew that she knew the pain he had felt all his life so intimately. They were kindred spirits, alone in the world, destined for each other. From the moment he first seen her, he had *known* that she was the woman he was meant to love.

But now he wasn't sure. Maybe he had been horribly wrong thinking she could love him. Maybe he really was a masochist. Nothing in the world could hurt him except Kryptonite and Lois Lane. He was insane.

However, maybe he was in the wrong, too. He had known how much other men in her life had hurt her. And he had gone and done the same thing. In fact, his own crime might have been far worse than anyone else's. Deception. He had portrayed himself as someone she could trust someone who would never hurt her. But he had done that as two separate people.

He had convinced her he was both Clark and Superman and he had let that go on far too long. But it had been so complicated. He had always known that he *needed* to tell her, but he had never been exactly sure *when* to tell her the truth about himself. He kept putting it off until it was too late. Now he had to face the consequences.

Oh god, it kept getting more complicated by the second. He had no idea how to get everything back to normal.

He picked up the phone and dialed the familiar numbers and waited as it rang.

**********

to be continued smile


Laura "The Yellow Dart" U. (Alicia U. on the archive)

"A hero is an ordinary individual who finds the strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles." -- Christopher Reeve