From Part 11


“We’ll never get past this if you keep talking like that. You know, you’re worse than I am!”

“But... Lois, what I did was wrong. Cruel. I know that - ”

“Yeah, and you know what?” She gave him a belligerent stare.

“What?”

“I’m thinking that maybe I’m not the one whose forgiveness you really need. You can’t forgive yourself - and that’s the biggest thing stopping us getting past this.”

He was about to deny it, but the words froze on his lips. She was right. But still...

“Yeah,” he admitted. “You’re right. But you have to be able to forgive me too.”

“So do what I asked you, Kent, okay? Sit down and tell me what you’d do differently.”


*********


Part 12


As Clark finally stretched his legs on the comforter and rested his head against the pillows, she could see that he was still feeling uncomfortable about sitting here with her. She snuggled up to him in invitation for him to put his arm around her and tug her close. Touching him felt so good. Oh, not just because she had missed her lover over the past three days. The man lying next to her now was the partner and best friend she had thought dead. She’d had three days to come to terms with the fact he was still alive and well, but she hadn’t truly realised it until he’d hugged her a few minutes ago.

Clark was alive.

And she wanted to forgive him. Wasn't that a start? But she had a feeling that her ability to forgive and forget what had happened would hinge on whatever he said in the next few minutes.

“I know I should have told you right away,” he said at last. “After I flew you home, I had every opportunity to come out and say it. I even thought about it.”

“Then why didn’t you?” She was doing her best not to sound reproachful, but it still hurt that he hadn’t trusted her with his secret even then. “I mean, I can see why you didn’t tell me about Superman before, although over the past few months I’d come to think we were sharing everything.”

“I know. And I had started to think about telling you, even back then.”

He had? Well, that was something - or it would have been if he’d actually done it. “We can talk about that later. Right now I just want to understand how you could let me think you were dead. I think that’s what hurts the most.”

His hold on her tightened. “It seemed like the only solution at the time. I wasn’t thinking straight that night.”

“Clark, I’d lost my best friend!”

“And I’d lost myself. Lois, I’m not Superman! Okay, I wear the Suit,” he added when she pulled a face. “But he’s not me. He’s just a character I invented so I could be Clark. Clark is who I am. I’ve always been Clark. Superman appeared a year and a half ago, and I’m still coming to terms with what it means and how I deal with that persona, or with the powers, for that matter.”

“The powers mean you’re still alive, though. If you’d been an ordinary man, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, because there’s no way you could have survived Barrow’s shot.”

“That’s my point. Clark is dead as far as everybody’s concerned. And so I thought it would be best if...”

“If you pretended to be dead, even to yourself?” she supplied for him when he hesitated.

He nodded. “I spent hours obsessing about the Suit and whether I could be recognisable. I thought up explanations for my sudden disappearances, tried not to time my coming back with Superman flying off from whatever scene he was needed at, avoided writing Superman interviews in the Planet for fear somebody would notice I was having privileged contact with Superman - and you know Trask did figure that out anyway.”

“But you never thought that somebody could kill Clark.”

“No. And it’s stupid! I should have known it could have happened. For all the times I saw you dangle over the jaws of death, it never occurred to me that Clark was running the same kind of risk, and that being invulnerable didn’t keep me safe from that kind of thing.”

She understood his frustration. He’d probably never envisaged the possibility of getting shot in a situation that made it impossible for him to do anything but act as if he was dead. Knowing Clark, he’d certainly been obsessing about his carelessness. She reached for his hand and squeezed it. “You couldn’t have known.”

“Anyway, I was obsessing - ”

“So what’s new?” She grinned at his shocked expression, then laughed as he relaxed into a laugh.

“And then when I saw you at the club,” he continued, growing serious again, “I didn’t know what to do. You seemed to blame Superman for what had happened, and I can’t say I didn’t agree with you. I was cursing Superman that night.”

“Oh, Clark, I’m sorry! I had no clue...”

“You have nothing to apologise for. You couldn’t have known that Superman really was guilty for Clark’s death.”

“You’re doing it again.”

“What?”

“Blaming yourself. Clark, Clyde Barrow was responsible for what happened. If you start blaming yourself, why not blame me for dragging you into that club in the first place?”

He lowered his head. “I know. And I guess, if I have to regret one thing, it’s not having told you after I got you home.”

“Did you think about it?”

“Yes. Even that night, I knew it would probably be simpler if I did tell you.”

“Then why didn’t you?” she insisted. She could see that she was pressuring him, but the need to understand was stronger.

“I was scared of losing you. Be honest, Lois. What would you have said that night if I’d told you I was Clark?”

“I would have helped!”

He shook his head. “Be honest.”

“All right. I would have been mad first. But after a while, I would have come to terms with the situation. I would have accepted that you lied to me...” She bit her lip as her conscience attacked her. Sometimes he really did know her better than she knew herself. “No, okay, maybe not.”

“I couldn’t bear to lose you that night.” His hand stroked her hair as he talked; she suspected that he wasn’t even aware that he was doing it. And she liked it too much to draw his attention to it. Yet one more reminder of how much she’d missed him. “Especially after what I’d told you. It just came out... it felt like it was my last chance to tell you I loved you, and the words were out of my mouth before I could think of the consequences.”

“Do you know how long those words haunted me?” Lois knew that the remembered pain was audible in her words, but she couldn’t help herself. She felt his other hand, the one holding her hand on his lap, clench around her fingers. “The night you... died, when you and I made love, all I could hear, all I could think about were those three little words. They were words you’d spoken to me once before, and I’d ignored them because I’d been too much of a coward to acknowledge how much you meant to me, even then.”

She glanced at him; saw him biting his lip, his expression sad. “See, I didn’t think you felt the same way about me, and by then I was embarrassed by what I’d said. If I’d come to you as Clark that night, I would have had to deal with the consequences of those words. And that scared me.”

“But why?” That was what she couldn’t understand. He’d seen the way she’d been in the club, the way she’d crumpled beside him, crying over him, the way she’d pleaded with him not to die... the way she’d raged at Superman, blaming him for her partner’s death. How devastated she’d been... “You must have known how much you meant to me!”

He squeezed her hand again in what she read as mute apology. “I always knew you cared. We were best friends. But you’d made it pretty clear that you didn’t feel any more than that for me. And after we almost lost our friendship last year because I told you my feelings for you, I was terrified of risking that again because yet again I wasn’t strong enough to keep my feelings to myself.”

He’d been afraid that she would reject him. About to protest that he had to have known she’d never have done that, she halted abruptly. How could he have known? She’d been pretty emphatic back in the summer, she remembered.

<I’m sorry, Clark. I just don’t feel that way about you>

He’d been deeply hurt. So hurt that, much later when the nightmare was over, he’d denied his own feelings so that they could be friends again. Of course, he’d had no idea that she’d been about to tell him that she had feelings for him too - and she’d just let it go, deciding that it was probably best not to take the risk of destroying their newly-rebuilt friendship.

<See, he’s not the only one afraid of admitting his feelings>

That was really food for thought, she mused, stroking the back of his hand with her free one. Clark loved her. Loved her so much that the thought of losing her had terrified him.

Suddenly, his lie no longer seemed like a thoughtless deception. It had been a survival strategy by man so afraid of losing her from his life that he’d hidden the truth from her for fear of the consequences.

Quietly, she said, “Pretend we’re back there, Clark. It’s two weeks ago. The night you were shot. You’re taking me home as Superman. Tell me what you’re going to do.”

His breath was soft against her hair. Then, equally quietly, he told her. “I’ll take you inside. Put you down. Say that I have something very important to tell you. And then I’ll spin out of my Spandex and show you that I’m Clark. And that I’m not dead. And then I’ll tell you again that I love you.”

She caught her breath. “And... if I’m mad? If I refuse to listen?”

His hand stroked her hair again. “Then I’ll be patient with you. I can be very patient, Lois; did you know that? I’ll tell you that you have every right to be angry, but that I had very good reasons for not telling you before. That I still have very good reasons for not telling you, but not letting you believe I was dead is more important than anything else.”

“And... if I ask you why you never told me?”

“Then I’ll explain.” Softly, he continued, “It’s a huge secret. You know that. It’s also a dangerous one. I have to protect my parents. I have to protect myself. And, sure, it’s been a long time since I ever imagined you’d want to print this, but I had to be sure that you wouldn’t ever let it slip accidentally. There’s another reason, too,” he added, sounding a little uncertain again.

“And what’s that?”

“This is what you won’t like - and I know you’ll get mad again. But I have to tell you anyway. In the last couple of months, what most stopped me telling you was your feelings for Superman.”

Lois flushed. Her Superman crush. That made complete sense. No doubt Clark had wondered whether, if he told her the truth, she’d announce that she loved him. And, of course, she’d had no idea that she’d loved him anyway, just as he was - just as the ordinary man called Clark Kent.

An ordinary man...

She bit her lip as those words, said in another context, came back to her. And she’d thought she had the right to be angry with him?

“How could you have forgiven me?” she blurted out suddenly.

“What?” His hand left her hair, and she longed to ask him to put it back.

“What I did to you! Telling you that I’d love you if you were an ordinary man?”

“Oh.” That he remembered that conversation too was written all over his face. He shrugged. “It’s over and done with. Yeah, I forgave you, but I guess I hadn’t really forgotten it - I mean, that’s probably why I was so afraid that if I told you the truth you’d fall all over me once you knew I was Superman.”

“I’m sorry, Clark,” she said, aching for the pain she’d caused him.

“Hey, you don’t need to apologise. Really - I’m over that now. Hearing you say that you loved me - Clark - after I was shot made up for it several times over.”

Lois fell silent, letting that sink in. Yes, knowing that your friend felt differently now and would never make the same mistake again really did wipe out the hurt.

She shifted into a kneeling position beside him so that she could look him straight in the eye. “I forgive you, Clark. And I love you. Can we start again?”


*********

She meant it. Her words, the way she was looking at him, made his breath catch. She forgave him. And her forgiveness gave him permission to forgive himself. The nightmare was over.

“Thank you, Lois,” he said huskily, and reached for her. Framing her face with his palms, he covered her lips with his in a kiss of gratitude, apology... and love.

He’d hoped that she would kiss him back, but the strength of her response took him by surprise. “Oh, Lois,” he groaned against her mouth, gathering her against him. She crawled onto his lap, never breaking the kiss, and wrapped her arms around him.

For the first time in two nightmarish weeks, he felt at peace. He had a home again. He was someone again.

He was Clark Kent.

Except... he wasn’t.

Breaking the kiss, he drew back from Lois and gazed at her soberly.

“Clark, what are you doing?” she demanded, reaching for him again.

But he held her back. “We still have to talk,” he pointed out quietly.

“What’s so important that it can’t wait?” Again, she leaned towards him, trying to resume kissing him.

“Lois, we might have sorted things out between us, but there’s still one little problem we haven’t considered. I can’t be with you.”

“What?” Eyes dazed, she stared at him, her expression confused. “What do you mean, you can’t be with me? I’ve just got through telling you that I forgive you! I need you, Clark. you’re not going to walk away from me now!”

“I don’t want to,” he said heavily. “But I have no choice. Lois, I can’t make you Superman’s girlfriend. I know I had some crazy idea of doing that a few days ago, but it’s far too dangerous. If anyone were to find out, you’d be a target for every criminal in town.”

She shook her head. “Silly. I’ll be your girlfriend. Clark Kent’s.”

“But that’s just it! You can’t,” he protested. “Lois, Clark is dead.”

“No, he’s not,” she scoffed. “Clark, you’re right here with me.”

“Yeah, but everyone thinks I’m dead,” he pointed out softly. “So I can’t be with you as Clark.”

“Yeah, but you’re not dead,” she pointed out logically. “See? You’re right here. Large as life - and just as lunkheaded,” she added, pulling a face at him.

“Lois, I know I’m alive - but no-one else can know that! I was shot at point-blank range, remember?”

“I know that,” she said, waving away his objection as if it were nothing. “But the fact remains that you’re not really dead. So what’s the point in carrying on pretending that you are? I mean, you don’t really want to be just Superman for the rest of your life, do you?”

“Of course I don’t!” he protested. “But what choice do I have?”

We have the choice of telling the truth. Letting people know that you’re alive,” she said, giving him a shake.

“You mean tell everyone that I’m Superman?” He stared at her, horrified. “Lois, I can’t do that!”

“I know that. But you are alive. And, Clark, no body was ever found. So who’s to say you ever died?”

“Oh, yeah?” Hurt, he gave her a cynical look. “And how do you say we manage that? Where am I supposed to have been for the last ten days? Deliberately hiding, pretending to be dead while all my friends and family mourned me?”

Instantly, he regretted his angry words. That, after all, was almost exactly what he had done - as Lois was sure to remind him.

But she didn’t. Instead, she patted his hand. “Come on, Clark. We are the best investigative reporters in town, after all. We’ll think of something. I’m damned if I’m going to let you walk away from me again, after all - and I’m sick of Perry trying to team me up with useless idiots like Tyler Rogers.”

He kissed her again. Hard. And then realised how difficult it would be to hold his word of putting a stop to their romance. He was addicted to her kisses, to her touch, to the sweetness that had got into their banter since they’d both admitted their feelings. He didn’t want to let that go. He had to. Reluctantly, he pulled away.

“You won’t have to work with him again,” he said, trying to ignore the effect of the kiss on him. “He’s a waste of space, and Perry will not argue with that after tonight. He’ll have to explain why he wasn’t with you.”

“You mean why he didn’t prevent me from following that guy out?” Lois snorted. “Come on. Perry’s no idiot. He’ll know that I wouldn’t have let Rogers get in my way.”

“That’s beside the point. Rogers wasn’t actually doing any investigating when I saw him. He was... otherwise engaged.”

“With that ditzy blonde? Yeah, I noticed.”

“You two would never have made a good team.”

Lois broke into a smile and swatted him playfully “Mr Kent! Are you jealous?”

“I might be.” He was. He couldn’t bear the thought of anyone else working with Lois. His possessiveness took him aback, and he was about to apologise when she pre-empted his words.

“You know, I kind of like that.” She wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled him down for another kiss.

He wished she wouldn’t stop kissing him and touching him. He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to ever have to leave. “I love you,” he whispered against her lips.

“Then fight. Fight to get your old life back! Don’t stand back and accept what happened as if you couldn’t do anything about it.”

He shook his head sadly. While he admired Lois’s determination, he had been trying to find a solution for too many days now, and no believable explanation had come to mind. He couldn’t reappear as Clark Kent and pretend everything was all right. Too many people could testify that he’d been shot. Besides how could he explain his disappearance? It couldn’t work.

“Trust me,” Lois said, as if reading his thoughts.

“You have an idea?”

She grinned. “Who do you think you’re talking to?”


*********


MIRACLE RETURN OF PLANET REPORTER
By Craig Allen

A few weeks ago, the Daily Planet lost one of its finest reporters: Clark Kent was shot while undercover, and his body went missing. Yesterday, our colleague unexpectedly turned up in the newsroom, alive and perfectly well.

Almost two weeks ago, he was gunned down by the cloned Clyde Barrow in front of at least 30 people - including his Planet partner, Lois Lane - in a replica of a 1920s speakeasy. Yesterday, Clark Kent walked into this paper's newsroom, large as life and with a story worthy of a Hollywood screenwriter.

Only, in this case, it's even more amazing because it's true.

In the first of a series of life-saving coincidences, Kent had his pager in his breast pocket. Although he was felled by the impact of the bullet, it never penetrated his body. He has a souvenir of the event in the shape of a very mis-shapen pager with a .22 calibre bullet embedded in it.

Stunned by the impact, Kent was unaware of being dragged out of the speakeasy, or being pushed out of the gangsters' car and left for dead, though he believes that he hit his head when he hit the ground. He woke later to find himself in Suicide Slum, cold, aching all over, with no money or ID in his pockets and no memory of anything at all - not even his own identity.

He could have died from hypothermia. Or concussion as a result of the blow to his head. But a street person, suffering, Kent now believes, from senility, thought our reporter was his long-lost cousin. He took Kent to a winter shelter used by many homeless people in the Slum area. One other resident was a former nurse made homeless through alcoholism, who told this reporter how he had taken care of the new resident. Thanks to him, Kent recovered from the injuries he'd suffered, but he still had no idea who he was.

Until yesterday. Someone brought in a stack of old newspapers to use for warmth. Among that stack was a copy of the Daily Planet from November 13th - and the photograph on the front page was like looking in a mirror for the John Doe in the shelter. Remembering everything in that instant, Clark Kent rushed back home to call his parents and give them the best news they've had in weeks.

So that's the amazing story of how a dead man walked back into our newsroom yesterday. We're all very glad to have him back - especially Lois Lane, his partner.

In a statement, Perry White, editor of this newspaper, said, "Clark Kent is a much-valued reporter and much-loved friend of all the staff on this paper. Writing his obituary was one of the hardest things I have ever done. Finding out that the rumours of his death were exaggerated made yesterday one of the happiest days of my - and this paper's - life."

The Daily Planet's Christmas appeal for 1994, as always supported by the paper's owners and staff, and you, the readers, will be in aid of Metropolis's homeless.

- end -

**********

“You’re a genius.”

Lois grinned. Clark touched her face and drew her into a kiss. He seemed to be using every opportunity to be close to her. Not that she complained. For all the times she’d claimed not to need a man in her life, for all her growls of annoyance with lovey-dovey displays of affection, it hadn’t taken her a lot of time to get used to Clark’s caresses and kisses.

“I love you,” he whispered against her lips. “I’d still have to play dead without you.”

“You’d have found a way, sooner or later.”

“Not as brilliant as yours!” He linked his arms behind her back, holding her close and rocking their body in a slow dance.

Lois grinned again. "It was one of my more inspirational moments, wasn't it? And, of course, getting Boris to back it up was even better."

"Yeah, how did you do that?"

"Simple. He owes me a few favours anyway. He used to be an occasional source, and I brought him food and old clothes sometimes. The last two winters, I twisted some arms and got him into a proper shelter. And I just promised him to do the same this year if he'd back up our story about you. Most reporters are pretty lazy - once one person is prepared to speak to the press, they won't bother looking for someone else to talk to."

"You're brilliant," he said again, leaning forward to kiss her once more.

She kissed him back happily. Right now, she thought that she'd never get tired of kissing Clark.

Several minutes later, he broke the kiss, still hugging her close, and returned to their conversation. “I’m not sure Perry bought it fully, though.”

“I think...” She stopped to kiss the tip of his nose. “... that Perry knows a lot more than he’s letting on.”

Clark blinked. “You mean you think he knows?”

“I have reasons to be suspicious. Oh, don’t worry! I don’t think he’d ever reveal your secret. Or even tell you that he knows. But what he said today about the whole thing being such an incredible story that even a man who flies sounded believable next to it makes it pretty obvious that he’s figured something out.”

Clark squirmed, and she held him tighter to convey her reassurance. She knew how he felt. He trusted Perry as much as she did, but knowing that two new people were on the secret was bound to make him uncomfortable.

He pulled away from her. “What if other people figure it out?”

“Nobody else will.” She framed his face between her hands and forced him to look at her. “Nobody else has any reason to be suspicious about you. I might have put two and two together eventually because being partners makes it hard not to notice you’re hiding something from me. But no-one else is as close to you as I am. As for Perry, I'm convinced that he only worked it out yesterday, after you came back."

"Not before?"

She shook her head. "I doubt it. I mean, if he'd guessed before, I think he'd have been pretty furious with you for pretending to be dead."

"True. Especially when he saw what it was doing to you," Clark agreed.

Relaxing against him, Lois murmured, "It's great to have you back, partner."

"It's great to be back."

She had her partner back. She had her best friend back. And, best of all, the man she loved was hers, in every way. No more secrets, no more unexplained disappearances, no more hiding their feelings from each other.

He was hers, and she was his, and she was happier than she'd ever been in her life before.


~ The End ~

Wendy and Kaethel (c) December 2004


- I'm your partner. I'm your friend.
- Is that what we are?
- Oh, you know what? I don't know what we are. We kiss and then we never talk about it. We nearly die frozen in each other's arms, but we never talk about it, so no, I got no clue what we are.

~ Rick Castle and Kate Beckett ~ Knockout ~