~~~Part 3~~~
"But you don't understand. It's imperative that I see Mayor White. Tell him it's Lois Lane. You'll see. And you'll be sorry for how you've treated me. Mark my words, you -"
The snippety woman sighed over-loudly and continued looking down her nose at Lois. The woman was peering over a pair of those stupid reading glasses that Lois was sure she wore simply to make her *appear* intelligent.
It wasn't working. Her faux sympathetic tone made Lois's skin crawl. "Miss Lane, the Mayor is an extremely busy man and he doesn't have time to talk to people who haven't made an appointment." The woman gave her another derisive look before she continued, "If he spoke to everybody who came storming in here, demanding to be seen, he'd have no time to run the city. Besides, if you cared to read the paper, you'd know that Mayor White is out of town. If you'd like, I can find you the address of a nice homeless shelter."
Lois deflated. All the optimism and determination she'd had moments ago was gone, but she wouldn't let that nasty woman have the last word. "No," she replied acerbically. "I'll be fine, though I'll be sure to let the Mayor know what fine, caring staff he has when I manage to flag him down *on my own*. Thank you for your time."
She turned to leave and could practically feel the derisive smile aimed at her back. She wished she felt half as assertive as she'd sounded. She left, even more hopeless than she'd been the night before.
Lois pushed through the doors of the building and took off down the street. Fast. Not sure where she was going, just away. The harsh glare of the sun hit her eyes and they teared a bit. Only from the over-bright sun, not because she was crying.
She wasn't. Perry was just out of town. He'd be back soon. And so what if she looked like a homeless woman? If that snotty woman had spent years in the Congo living in the jungle, she'd look a little less than pretty too.
Lois looked down at her clothes. They weren't that bad, were they?
They were. They weren't even her clothes, just some second hand jeans and a shirt that they'd had in the clothing bin at the ICRC. They were a little baggy and worse for wear, but clean. Homeless people didn't have clean clothes. She had a place to stay. She wasn't homeless. She had a home. Metropolis was her home...
At least it had been.
It certainly didn't feel like home anymore.
Lois stopped short. The gates of the Metropolis Cemetery stared her in the face. She hadn't been here in over five years. Mom, Dad, Lucy... they were all in there. After the car accident, she'd used to visit them regularly, telling them about everything in her life... When she'd gotten the job at the Planet. When she'd had her heart broken by Claude. When she'd won her first Kerth. Her second Kerth.
She'd shared everything with them, not just because they were her family, but because she hadn't had anyone else to tell. Perry had truly become like a father to her, taking her under his wing as his protégé. And after her family had died, he'd reassured her that she still had someone who cared about her. But it hadn't always been enough.
Someone had painted the wrought iron since she'd been here last. The grass looked greener, trimmed. She glanced around for a moment at the bustling city, studying what used be her home. Everything was a little cleaner. Less graffiti, less litter. She hadn't been able to see it last night, but Metropolis had undergone a transformation while she'd been gone. It looked... safer. It *felt* safer. Had it been Perry's influence? Superman's?
Whatever the reason was, Metropolis had changed for the better.
In direct contrast to what had happened to her.
The thought saddened her, made her feel even more alienated from the place she'd lived in, grown up in. Now, more than ever, she longed for the comfort of family. She crossed the threshold into the cemetery towards the only family she had left.
Two rows in and four over. She looked for the three headstones that marked the home of her loved ones. Daddy. Mother. Lucy...
And then she gasped in horror.
There was a fourth headstone.
Lois Lane. 1967-1993.
The anguish knifed through her stomach and robbed her of her breath. She was dead. Well and truly dead. They'd buried her. Forever etched in stone was the proof that Lois Lane no longer existed.
She felt hollow. Numb. And weak. She needed to sit. Awkwardly, she sank to the ground and brought her knees up to her chest. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the polished granite.
Dead.
Dead people didn't have homes. No friends. No job. No family. No life.
Now that she was finally back, what on Earth was she going to do?
***
Lois awoke to the flickering of the light bulb above her head. It was oddly comforting now, after the blaring reality of the sun and the overwhelming truths it had brought with it. She wasn't sure how she'd gotten back to the motel. Everything from after she'd seen her own headstone was a blur.
Being back in the solitude of her small, rented room now after wandering outside... it killed her that it was comfortable. Four walls keeping her enclosed. Familiar. Safer, somehow. They'd done that to her, made her...
Her stomach growled, interrupting her thoughts and reminding her that it had been more than a full day since she'd eaten anything. She took the money out of her pocket to count it, though she knew very well how much money she had left.
Not enough. She'd been counting on Perry to be here. Not that she wanted charity of any kind, but she was sure she had travel insurance of some kind with the Planet, not to mention her salary. They ought to owe her *something*.
But she couldn't just go waltzing into the Planet now, could she? They'd be looking for her. Not actively after all this time, but the Planet was the first place they'd think of to plant someone to keep an eye out for her. Going to City Hall had been risky enough, foolish, even. Impulsively stupid. She had to be more careful from now on.
Which would make coming back from the dead all that more difficult.
She wasn't looking forward to all the tedium she suspected would be involved in coming back from the dead. She didn't have the energy for it. For a moment, she entertained the idea of staying dead. Or at least keeping Lois Lane dead. She could move somewhere else, start a new life with a new name. There really wasn't anything here for her anyway. Maybe it would be better that way?
No. As much as it appeared to be easier, she really couldn't be anyone but Lois Lane. She was going to have to fight her way back into her old life. It was hers, after all, and she hadn't come this far only to give up now. She'd made it through being held prisoner and the wilds of the Congo. Surviving this would be a piece of cake, right?
But she still dreaded it. Once she was back from the dead, she'd most likely have to prove herself all over again as an investigative journalist. And that was something she wasn't sure she could do. Three years was a long time to spend away from civilization. Countless things must have changed by now. Heck, Perry was Mayor! Just think what else must have changed.
She'd read the same issue of the Planet numerous times. Clark Kent. He seemed to be the new top reporter around. People were probably falling all over him, wanting him to interview them, tell their story. And investigating probably wasn't too hard for someone with superpowers, whatever they were. Even still, aside from the lack of effort it took to *get* stories, the few she read by him showed his skill as a writer.
Yet another reason why she needed his help. She wouldn't be able to finish trailing the gun-running back to its source, not with her rusty skills and now non-existent contacts. Plus, the whole flying thing would come in handy. He'd be able to fly over the area where she'd been held, look around for more clues.
But it was a little more than that, wasn't it? How was she supposed to research or investigate when they were out there? Watching for her? Waiting for her to trip up and do something foolish like what she'd done toady? What if they'd seen her already?
Now more than ever she needed Clark Kent's abilities, super and otherwise. But how was she going to get someone like him to help her? She was a nobody, not even technically alive. *Why* would someone of his celebrity and prestige talk to her, let alone help her? But she *had* to try. He was really her only hope. She'd simply write him a letter and drop it off in his mailbox and wait for him to return from his vacation and respond.
Simple.
Somehow, she thought it would be anything but. But if Clark "Superman" Kent was her only chance at righting the wrongs that had been done to her, bringing the gunrunners to justice, then she had to try.
Lois pulled her battered notepad out of her knapsack. She leafed through it, looking for an empty page and swallowed hard when she reached the spot where more than a few pages were missing...
She couldn't think about that now. She needed to focus on one thing at a time. Besides, those pages were imprinted in her memory; she'd made sure of it. Returning her mind to the task at hand, she managed to find an empty page. Digging for a pen took a second longer, and then she was writing.
She had just finished signing her name and reading fretfully over it for errors or idiocy when her stomach growled again.
She frowned. It'd been over three years since she'd bought food in Metropolis, perhaps even longer since she'd gone grocery shopping. She'd usually grabbed some fast food on her way home from work or ordered take out. She couldn't afford to do that now, not if she wasn't sure how long she'd need to stay in the motel. Lois eyed the kitchenette warily. Something from the supermarket would certainly be cheaper. If she bought something simple, surely she could cook it.
Lois shoved her money back in her pocket and then grabbed the hotel key on her way out the door.
After she'd picked up some instant noodles at the store, she wandered around the streets for a while, reminiscing. Metropolis had felt so alive, so exciting. A potential story around every corner. Now... Well, now it felt different. She wasn't the same person she'd been three years ago.
She wasn't Lois Lane.
But, dammit, she *was*.
She *had* to be. She had to do something. Something to make her feel like her old self again. Going back to the motel and attempting to cook wasn't going to cut it. She needed something to investigate.
Clark Kent's address!
She needed it to send... no... drop off the letter. Lois frowned. Why hadn't she thought of that before? The whole time she'd been writing the letter, it'd never occurred to her that she'd obviously need to know where he lived.
Though... she supposed that she could just send it to the Planet. He worked there. He'd receive it for sure. But... she could just imagine how much mail he got at work. Loads of it. And there would be her letter, sitting at the bottom of his inbox for who knew how long.
No, she needed his home address. She needed to drop it off personally so that she knew he'd see it.
She felt... dumb. Mad Dog Lane would have thought of all of this before. Heck, Mad Dog Lane would have found his apartment first, gone straight there and knocked on the door.
She'd written a letter instead. Letters were cowardly.
Lois shook her head. No time for waffling. Regardless of how she asked for his help, she needed his address. Mad Dog Lane was on the case, if a little worse for wear.
***
"Sir, the subject has arrived in Metropolis. She came in demanding to see the Mayor, just as you thought she would, sir."
"I trust you followed her?"
"Of course, sir. She's staying at the Apollo Motel. Shall I make the acquisition?"
"No, not just yet, let her get comfortable. Watch her. We'll see what she does. Her family's dead and the only person she knows is Mayor White. It won't be a necessity until he's back in town. Let her think she's safe for now."
"Affirmative, sir."
"Good work, Johnson."
TBC...
