Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic Two Days Together (5/?)

Eventually, Clark turned and continued along the tunnel, his hand still enveloping hers.

"Where are we going?" Lois asked.

"There's an old warehouse. We can get to the basement from this tunnel."

"How do you know? Do you come down here regularly? Will we be safe in the warehouse?"

"We might be safe for a day or two. But eventually …"

A couple of days … that was all she needed.

"How do you know about the warehouse?" she said. "How can you be sure we'll be safe there?"

He stopped and faced her, his eyes solemn and his expression grim. "I can't be sure," he said. "If you're worried, you should go back now."

"I'm not going back," she stated. "And I'm not worried."

"You should be," he mumbled under his breath as he turned and continued deeper into the tunnel.

But she wasn't worried. In fact, Lois realised, when she was with Clark, she rarely worried. Even though they had been in some precarious situations together, they had always worked out a way.

Often with Superman's help.

But he wasn't in Metropolis anymore.

Obviously, when Lois had challenged him about his feelings, he had responded in the negative. He'd been locked in a cage during her wedding. And Luthor had made it impossible for him to stay in Metropolis.

Her marriage to Luthor had ruined three lives - Clark's, Superman's, and her own, too.

But she would have a second chance. She would go back to 1994.

And this time, she would get it right.



Part 5

"We're here," Clark said, shining the flashlight down onto a metal-and-wood trapdoor that reached to knee height. "We'll have to crawl through." He swung the door up, opening it, and offered Lois the flashlight. "You go first."

Despite a few concerns about what could be lurking on the other side, Lois took the flashlight with a smile of thanks, hoisted up the skirt of her dress, and dropped to her knees. The beam of light carved jerky patterns into the darkness ahead as she shuffled forwards.

Once through the door, she stood, checking her surroundings for any dangers. The small room contained an assortment of mis-matched furniture and a lot of dust, but no people. She turned and shone the light for Clark as he followed her through the trapdoor.

Once through, he rose slowly to his feet, accomplishing it by degrees. Lois grasped his elbow. "You're still in pain, aren't you?" she said.

"I'm OK," he said, twisting slightly to break their connection.

Reluctantly, Lois dropped her hand to her side. She watched as Clark pulled in a couple of breaths. "Clark …" This was her fault. All of it. This morning, she'd - albeit unknowingly - caused him to be beaten by seeking him out. Now, she'd come to him again, and in doing so, had driven him from his home.

It was only for a day, but he didn't know that. When he'd jumped from the balcony, he'd believed he would face the choice of staying away or going back and being bashed.

He'd given up his life … his home … for her.

Clark reached for the flashlight and took it from her, moving to a battered wooden table pushed into the corner. He lit two candles and turned off the flashlight.

"You're sure no one will see the light?" Lois asked, taking refuge in practicalities.

"There's a small window at street level," Clark replied, pointing upwards, "but two candles don't make much light and not many people walk around looking at their feet."

Lois surveyed the room. Its small size and low ceiling fostered a closed-in feeling. The dim candlelight did nothing to hide the cobwebs, dust, and general grime. She looked at Clark and smiled. "How did you find this place?"

Clark crouched down to drive home a small bolt to fasten the trapdoor. "Are you hungry?" he said, staying down longer than was necessary.

Lois stared at the back of his head and mourned the deterioration of the past two years. His trust had gone, his openness, his cheerful and positive outlook, the understanding that had become so inherent to their partnership … all gone.

The camaraderie between them - a feeling that had gone beyond friendship and work partnership and into something more. Something not easy to describe.

Something precious.

"No," she replied eventually. "There was food at the ball."

"Do you need anything?" he asked as he stood.

She started to unbutton the coat. "I wish Luthor didn't have such ostentatious taste in gowns." She pulled open the coat fronts to show Clark the dress.

But he wasn't looking. He had moved to a closet and opened the door. He turned and indicated a chest-high shelf. "There might be something suitable here."

Lois moved forward, her eyes darting between Clark and the folded stash of women's clothing. "You did this? You prepared everything? Even clothes for me?"

His head dropped, and he stared at the floor. "I found this place in the early days … when Luthor sent men every few days. It was … I don't know … somewhere to come where I could relax, knowing there was less chance of the door bursting open any moment."

Lois ran her eyes over the contents of the closet. "You brought food and water here? Clothes? Matches? Candles? Anything you might need for a prolonged stay?" Her gaze halted at the pile of women's clothes. "Anything we might need?"

His eyes flitted around the small room. "I knew I could never move here permanently, but it was nice to have somewhere to go for a few hours."

"Was?"

"I got to thinking that if you ever …" He stopped, his cheeks reddening in the glow of candlelight. He stared at a point above her left shoulder. "I never thought you'd leave him and come to me, specifically. It wasn't like that. I just thought you might need …" Clark shrugged; cleared his throat. "He continually bragged about how happy you were with him. How much you loved your new life. But …"

"You didn't believe him?"

"He said … things. Things that didn't sound like you."

"Such as?"

Clark hesitated. Lois waited, her eyes never leaving his face. "He said you were relieved that you didn't have to work anymore. That you were so happy to have married a man with enough money to provide everything you wanted."

Inside, Lois recoiled at his words. Had she - or a version of herself - fallen so far that Luthor had been telling the truth? It was reassuring that Clark didn't think so. "So you figured …?"

"Either you'd changed a lot or …" Clark shrugged again. "I got a few things you might need. And I stopped coming here regularly because it became more important that he didn't know about this place."

Lois felt a lump swell into her throat. Clark had sacrificed so much for her. Even the sanctuary he had needed because of the vindictive hatred of her 'husband'.

"You thought of everything," she said, pushing out an awkward laugh. "Even carrying a flashlight with you."

"After this morning … I knew something was wrong."

Lois wanted so badly to fall into his arms and hold him. To receive his strength and comfort and to return those gifts to him.

But the barrier between them - unseen, untouchable, but so very real - held her away.

"There's a bathroom, but it's small," Clark said with a nod to his left. "Or I could turn away if you need more room to change your clothes." His glance dipped to take in the yards of material gushing out from under the coat to form a hoop around her bare feet. "I have shoes," he said, reaching up to the top shelf. "Nothing very glamorous, but …" He handed her a pair of pink sneakers.

"Thank you," Lois said, taking them and examining them and realising they would fit perfectly. "How did you know my size?"

The colour on his cheeks deepened. "Lucky guess."

But Lois wasn't convinced anything here had been left to chance. Clark had planned meticulously. He had prepared everything to the smallest detail.

He had stayed in Metropolis ... seemingly because there was a chance that, one day, she would need him.

Centennial Park swept through her memory again. The bench. Clark - hopeful, earnest, desperate to stop her making a huge mistake. And her - blind to the sort of man Luthor was.

And blind to Clark, too.

She had questions - a whole two years' worth - but Clark looked as if questions were the last thing he wanted.

"I'll change here, if that's OK," Lois said. She didn't wait for him to turn around, but turned herself and slipped the coat from her body. She reached up her back for the zipper, remembering Mrs Anders' fussy ministrations that had sorely tested the limits of Lois's patience.

The top of the zipper rested between her shoulder blades, just out of reach. She swung her arm around to approach from above. She managed to grasp it in her fingertips and tried to push it down, but she couldn't get enough purchase. She tried again from below. Couldn't reach. Again from above. She wriggled, attempting to get a better grip, but the zipper fell from her grasp.

"Is everything all right?"

There was concern in Clark's question, but it was cool and distant. The warmth had gone. And until now, Lois hadn't realised how much she appreciated that warm undertone.

"I … I can't reach the zipper," she admitted. "Luthor had a woman come to help me dress."

His few seconds of silence were stippled with uncertainty.

"Would you mind just getting it started for me, please?" Lois asked.

His footsteps sounded crisp on the bare wooden floor. She felt the material press against her skin and then came a slight tug as he lowered the zipper a few inches.

His footsteps retreated without him saying a word.

And again, Lois mourned the death of their closeness.

It was there in the way he braced every time she touched him.

In the fact that he hadn't smiled. Not once.

In the way his eyes were so careful to avoid hers.

Clark had become a stranger … a stranger with familiar traits that regularly tugged on the memories weaved through her heart.

Just a little longer, Lois reminded herself. Then everything will be back to normal.

She released the zipper and slipped out of the gown. She quickly pulled on the jeans, t-shirt, and sweater that Clark had provided. They were all about a size too large.

Had she lost weight?

Or had Clark assumed that the indolent and privileged life of Mrs Luthor would add a few pounds?

Lois swivelled silently and stared at his back.

She wondered if he realised that he now slumped a little, whereas before he had stood straight. She wondered if he knew that his eyes were continually downcast, whereas before he had met the world straight on. She wondered if he knew that his mouth never broke into that trademark smile.

She wondered if he knew that she understood the extent of the damage done by her decision to trust a man utterly unworthy of trust.

"I'm done," she said quietly, picking up the socks he had provided and sitting on the couch. "You can turn around now."

He did, but he didn't look at her, not directly.

"Clark," Lois said. "I'm so sorry."

"None of this is your fault."

"It's all my fault. I should have been able to see the truth. You tried to show me."

He glanced away, towards the closet. "Are you hungry?" he said.

"No. There was a meal at the ball."

He nodded and stood there; unmoving and tentative, his hands buried deep in his pockets.

Lois looked beyond him and into the closet. "Are we able to make a cup of tea?"

"Yes," he said with a little jolt of relief. "Is that what you'd like?"

"Yes. I would."

"I only have powdered milk," he said apologetically.

"I'll have it without milk."

"OK." He moved back to the closet and took out a tiny stove. He poured water from a bottle into the saucepan and lit the gas.

Lois watched him as she donned the sneakers, mourning the loss of the man who, just a few hours ago, had so boldly laid open his heart before her.

~^~^~

Clark stared into the saucepan as bubbles rose to cause tiny explosions in the surface of the water.

Lois was here.

She had come to him.

She had finally left Luthor.

That reality had him strung between paralysing terror and absolute elation.

She was free.

For now.

If he could help her win permanent freedom, she would no longer be at the mercy of the brutally vindictive criminal she had married.

And he would no longer have to live with the unrelenting fear of what Luthor might do to her. No longer have to live with the constant, lurking awareness that his own actions, however small and seemingly insignificant, could be twisted into excuses for hurting Lois.

He could finally rest, knowing she was safe.

But first … first they had to get out of the warehouse basement, out of Metropolis, and beyond the reach of Luthor's considerable influence.

And that was going to be tricky.

Already, he could feel the first tendrils of strength returning to his body.

But, it was going to take time.

And time was one thing they didn't have.

Timing their move was going to be critical. He had to choose between night - when the darkness would be their ally but offer no boost to his strength - and daylight, when the sun that fortified him would also cast light into every corner they tried to hide.

He had to wait long enough to gain sufficient strength to have a hope of protecting her, but not so long that Luthor's bandits discovered their hiding place.

And if he had to use his limited reserves of returning superstrength, he had do it in such a way that Lois didn't ever suspect the truth about him.

Clark knew that the chances of Luthor finding Lois and taking her back were high. He couldn't send her back with the burden of a secret as huge as the identity and whereabouts of Superman.

If Luthor had the faintest inkling that Lois had any information regarding the absent superhero, he would stoop to unspeakable levels to force her to reveal what she knew.

Eventually - using drugs, pain, manipulation, and brutality - Luthor would extract the truth.

And once Luthor knew …

Clark's parents would never be safe again.

Clark's life - such as it was - as Clark Kent would become untenable.

Now, more than ever, he had to protect the secret.

Actually, both secrets.

Being with her again … seeing her smile … feeling her touch … hearing her voice …

He had to maintain the wall. He had to keep the distance between them. He had to pretend he was OK with 'being friends'.

Because the one thing time hadn't dulled was his irrepressible attraction to the woman he would always love with his whole heart.

~^~^~

They drank their tea in silence so stifling that it was an effort for Lois to remain still on the couch they shared. But she had to - shuffling away from Clark would convey a message she didn't want to send. Shuffling closer to him … well, he'd already shown his discomfiture whenever she approached him.

She sorted through her questions, trying to decide on the one he would find least intrusive. Their work had been the first bridge between them, built in the days when he had been a newcomer from Kansas. "You work at the Star?" she asked, brightly conversational.

"You know I do."

His reply didn't encourage further questions, so she resolved to wait until he felt ready to talk. She sipped her tea slowly, and by the time her cup was almost empty, she'd become desperate. "Is there anything you'd like to ask me?"

He thought about her question for a moment. "Why did you come to the Star this morning?"

"Because … because I was confused, and I couldn't remember anything."

He looked at her face - not her eyes, but somewhere around her chin. "I'm sorry, Lois. I'm sorry I pushed you away. I wasn't expecting you … and suddenly, I looked up and you were there … and I just panicked."

"I understand why you told me to go away."

"You didn't say you were going to leave him. You weren't noticeably upset or physically hurt. I didn't know about … about you not being able to remember." His knuckles whitened as his fingers tightened around his cup. "It seemed as if it were a casual visit."

It had been a casual visit - as casual as anything can be when you've just skipped across two years. "You knew what would happen, didn't you?" Lois asked. "You knew the thugs would come after you because I'd dared to go and see you?"

"It doesn't matter anymore."

He wasn't quite the Clark she knew, but, in essence, he was still Clark.

Still the most selfless, caring, thoughtful person she had ever known.

"Why didn't you leave Metropolis?" Lois asked. "You could have moved back to Smallville. I'm sure your parents -"

"No!" His outcry startled them both. He shot her a look of agitation and then said, "I couldn't bring my parents into this."

"The Planet was gone. You didn't have a job. Why stay here?"

His eyes kept low, fixed on his cup, and he said nothing.

But he'd given her the confirmation of what she'd already suspected.

Clark Kent had stayed because she was here.

Because he had never gotten over caring about her welfare and safety. Because her happiness was still important to him.

"Aw, Clark," she whispered through a thickened throat.

He stood abruptly, swilling down the rest of his tea in one gulp and taking his cup to the water left in the saucepan to wash it. "You can sleep on the couch," he said. "It's not very big, but there is less chance of you being disturbed."

"Where will you sleep?"

"There's a mattress," he said, pointing to where a thin and tattered mattress was leaning against the wall.

Lois stood from the couch and gave him both her empty cup and a smile. "Thanks for the tea."

He nodded, taking her cup and washing it.

"Do we have pillows?" she asked. "Blankets? Can I get them?"

"In the closet."

She opened the closet and took down the two pillows. Clark finished with the cups and then dragged the single mattress away from the wall, dropping it in front of the trapdoor. A cloud of dust rose.

"Sorry," he said.

Lois smiled as she handed him one of the sheets. "A little dust is no problem," she said. As she spoke, the image of the bedroom Luthor had provided floated into her mind. It had been large and impeccably clean, adorned with expensive accessories and lavish in luxury.

It had been a prison.

She would rather be here with Clark, in a dank basement lit only by candles.

Even though she was only going to be in this time for two days, she would rather be with Clark.

He gave her two of the blankets and spread out the third on the mattress.

"Will you be warm enough?" Lois said.

"Yes. Do you want to use the bathroom first?"

Lois arranged the two blankets on the couch. "Sure." When she turned, Clark was just a step behind her. He held out a small bag. "I wasn't sure what you'd need," he said. "But the basics are there … toothbrush, toothpaste, soap." He lifted his other hand. "And pyjamas and a towel."

She took the bag, overwhelmed again that he had done all this because there had been a chance that she would need him.

Did he ever think about the day in the park? The day she had trampled all over his heart and then made it infinitely worse by admitting that she was considering Lex Luthor's proposal?

Feeling the surge of tears, she turned towards the bathroom.

"You'll need a candle," Clark said.

"Oh," she said, swallowing hard. "Thanks."

She took it and went into the bathroom. Opening the bag Clark had prepared for her caused her tears to surge again.

How could he treat her like this after all she had done to him?

The answer came, strong and sure.

Because he loved her.

He loved her still.

Nothing that had happened - her marrying Luthor, the repeated bashings, the lies - nothing had destroyed Clark's love for her.

She opened the bag to discover that he had included makeup remover. She smiled through her tears as she cleansed her face of the thick makeup applied by the woman Luthor had sent.

She quickly changed into the loose-fitting pyjamas, released her hair from the hairdresser's grandiose creation, wiped a couple of tears from her cheeks, and returned to the main room.

Clark was putting away the saucepan. As he reached up to the high shelf, she heard him wince.

"Are you all right?" she asked, coming closer.

"Yes."

"You're still hurting, aren't you?"

"Leave it, Lois."

His tone was gruff. He gathered up some clothes and a towel and went into the bathroom.

Lois slid under the blankets on the couch. She didn't feel tired at all. In fact, she felt as if she'd only recently awoken.

She longed to talk with Clark … talk as they'd been able to before she'd allowed Luthor to worm his way into her life.

Should she tell Clark that she would be going back to 1994? Should she tell him that this nightmare would soon be over? That all the events of the past two years would simply vanish?

When he returned from the bathroom, he was wearing shorts and a T-shirt. The latter garment was loose, but it couldn't disguise the curve of his bicep muscles or the planes of his chest.

He blew out the candle he was holding and offered her the flashlight. "It's not safe to leave a candle burning," he said. "Keep this close so you'll have light if you need it during the night."

"What about you?"

"I've stayed here before."

He faded into the shadows, and Lois heard him drop onto the mattress. "Clark, do you have a plan for tomorrow?" she asked. "You said we can't stay here long."

"We can't. He won't stop until he has found you."

"What are we going to do?"

"What do you want to do?"

"I'm not going back to Luthor," she said decisively. Not even for one day.

"We'll have to wait a day, maybe two. Then, we have to get out of Metropolis. After that, we have to get out of New Troy."

"Then what?"

"Then we try to find somewhere you can live where he can't find you."

Somewhere for her to live, not somewhere for them to live. "And then?"

"I don't know," he said despondently. "You should probably consider leaving the US."

There it was again. You. Not we.

She needed to tell him that this time would end … would never be. "Clark -"

"Goodnight, Lois."

The wall between them was still there. He was willing to help her escape, but he wasn't willing to help her build a new life.

Who could blame him? She'd said she didn't love him - not romantically. Then, she'd gone ahead and married Luthor.

"Goodnight, Clark," she said.

Lois extinguished the candle, and the darkness crept over them. She closed her eyes, trying to convince her body that it needed sleep.

It ignored her pleas.

"Clark?"

"Yes?"

"Why did you leave the office this morning? Were you chasing a story?"

"No."

"Meeting a source?"

"No."

"You must have known that Luthor would find out that I'd seen you."

"Yes."

"Then why did you leave the office?"

He sighed. "I'm a reporter, Lois. I can't stay in the office all day."

He'd known Luthor would send men after him. Why hadn't he tried to be more discreet? Why hadn't he gone underground and come here?

Why had he loitered near an alley?

The answers came like a torrent of crashing boulders.

Clark had wanted them to find him. He'd known retribution was certain and he'd wanted to take the brunt of it … probably in the hope that it would appease Luthor's wrath towards her.

Lois turned over, mostly to camouflage the sound of the sob that was pushing up her throat.

She forced her eyes shut and willed sleep to come.

But what came were images.

Centennial Park.

The bench seat.

And Clark.

I have been in love with you for a long time.

His words faded from her imagination, but his face did not.

His eyes levelled in hers. Solemn. Sincere. Vulnerable.

Daring to hope.

All hope had been leached from the 1996 version of Clark.

"I'm sorry," Lois mouthed. "I'm so sorry."

Silence closed in, dense and oppressive, but her mind rattled on, chaotic with questions.

When would Wells return? Tomorrow night? Or the following morning? Would he get here before Luthor found them? What should she tell Clark?

Would he believe her?

He wouldn't. He would think her story was the irrational product of Luthor's medication.

How bad were Clark's injuries?

She should have demanded more information. The image of him lying on the ground, surrounded by the three men rustled through her mind.

One thug swung back his leg and drove his foot into Clark's side.

Lois flinched.

She should have asked about his ribs. She should have checked on him.

Landing on the ground with her on his back must have been excruciating.

But he'd done it.

For her.

He'd -

The silence was shattered by a scratchy sound on the other side of the trapdoor. It came again, louder this time.

Lois jolted to a sitting position. "Clark!" she cried. "Wake up! Someone's coming!"

"Lois?"

"There was a noise, Clark. On the other side of the door."

She heard him rise from the mattress and come closer. She saw the outline of his figure as he crouched beside the sofa.

The noise came again - raspy and unnerving. "Did you hear it?" Lois hissed.

"Lois," Clark said, and her heart flip-flopped at the warmth seeped through his tone. "I think what you are hearing is rats."

"Rats? Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Lois felt herself smile. Because Clark was only a few inches away. And because, for the first time in this strange future time, he was sounding almost like Clark. "That's what I thought," she said airily.

"You thought it was rats?" he asked with surprise.

"Well," she said, letting her smile leak into her words. "I thought it was one rat in particular."

She sensed he smiled at that, and cursed the darkness that kept her from seeing it.

He stood. "Goodnight, Lois."

The warmth in his words had been just a trickle, but it was enough to fill her heart with hope. She snuggled down between the covers. "Goodnight, Clark."

She heard him settle onto the mattress.

Outside of their haven, the scratches and scuffles continued.

But they didn't matter.

Because she was with Clark.