Landing softly behind the farmhouse where he wouldn’t be seen, Clark quickly spun out of the Suit and jogged onto the porch, opening the screen door and entering the kitchen.
“Mom?” he called.
Hearing footsteps from overhead, he climbed the stairs to the second level and surprised his mother coming out of his parent’s bedroom.
“Clark? What are you doing here? Is something wrong?” She put her hand to her mouth. “It’s not your father, is it?”
Giving her his best attempt at a smile, he quickly reassured her. “Dad’s fine. I need you to come to Metropolis with me. There’s something I need to talk to both of you about.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Is this about the argument your father and I had? Because I-“
He cut her off. “This isn’t about you and Dad. This is… something else. I know you were planning on flying out tomorrow, but it really can’t wait.” Some of the panic and dread he was feeling must have been evident in his face, because after studying him for a moment his mom put up no further argument and quickly went to pack a bag.
***
After getting both of his parents seated at his dining table with mugs of herbal tea, Clark attempted to settle down with him. But the agitation in his mind was too great, and he quickly found himself pacing the length of the kitchen. He paced in silence for a few minutes, watched by his parents.
It was his mom that broke the silence.
“For heaven’s sake, Clark, what’s wrong? You’re scaring us to death here.”
He turned towards them, running a hand through his hair.
“Someone knows. Lois knows.”
“Knows what, Clark?” Jonathan asked, trepidation on his face.
“About me.” He swallowed hard against the panic and hurt that rose up in his throat, threatening to choke him. “About Superman.”
Martha gasped. “How did she figure it out?”
Clark didn’t answer for a moment, instead choosing to collapse into his chair at the table. He put his head in his hands. “I told her. She asked me what my biggest secret is, and I told her.”
He could practically feel the look they exchanged and raised his head again, pre-empting the questions he knew were coming.
“I don’t even know why I told her!” He caught the knowing look Martha shot him. “No, Mom, that’s not why. I know you think I’m in love with Lois, and maybe I am, but that’s not it.”
“Uh huh.” Her reply was frankly disbelieving.
Jonathan shot her a quelling glance. “That’s not important now, Martha. How’d she take it, Clark?”
“Not- well.” He pushed back his chair and started pacing again. “I think-” he swallowed hard again. “I think she’s going to expose me. Expose us.” He turned toward them, feeling sick at the distressed looks on their faces. “I need to get you guys somewhere safe. I told her I’d tell her what she wants to know, as long as she gives me time to protect you.”
Martha exchanged another look with Jonathan, then tilted her chin up.
“We’re not leaving the farm, Clark.”
“But-“
“No, son,” his dad spoke up. “The farm is our home. We’re not leaving.”
“Mom, Dad... every crackpot and criminal is going to want to try to get to me. And they’ll use to do it. I can’t protect you if you’re all the way out in Kansas.”
His parents’ faces were set in the most stubborn lines he’d ever seen. Even his Dad, usually the most easy-going of men, had his jaw firmly set. Clark sighed. This was going to be a long argument, and it was going to take up time he wasn’t sure he had.
***
After Clark’s shocking revelation and his abrupt exit, Lois felt the need to sit quietly for a few minutes before returning to the bullpen. In the scheme of things, Eugene Laderman’s guilt or innocence now seemed almost trivial.
Clark was Superman.
She repeated those three words to herself under her breath, over and over, hoping that they’d sink in and begin to make sense.
Clark was Superman.
How had she not seen it? The constant disappearances, right before Superman came from wherever he did to save the day. The flimsy excuses. Superman’s appearance right after Clark’s arrival in Metropolis. Clark’s leaving, ostensibly to take up a position at the Smallville Post, just as Superman had agreed to leave Metropolis during the heatwave. Trask’s insistence on pursuing Clark.
Trask. Trask had known the truth, she suddenly realised. And he’d gone after Clark, his parents and his parents’ neighbour to get to Superman. Suddenly Clark’s angry words from earlier made more sense. Of course, he’d be worried about his parents.
The door to the conference room opened, snapping Lois out of her reverie. Perry stuck his head around the door. “Lois? Is everything okay? Just uh, you’ve been in here a while. And I couldn’t help but notice Kent storming out of here.”
The urge to confide in Perry was almost overwhelming. He was regarding her with a concerned, quizzical look. She opened her mouth to tell him exactly what was going on, then closed it again. She couldn’t tell him, at least not directly.
“Everything’s fine, Chief.”
“Well, okay then.” He started to withdraw from the room, but Lois stopped him.
“Perry? Can I ask you something?”
“Yeah, darlin’?” Perry must have picked up on the seriousness of her tone, because he fully entered the room this time and shut the door behind him.
She hesitated for a minute, deciding how to phrase things. If she decided not to publish the story, she didn’t want to accidentally give away Clark’s secret.
“Lois?”
“I found something out about someone. Something big. But writing the story could ruin their life.”
“And you want to know whether you should write the story.”
She nodded. “Yeah, Chief.”
“This thing... how big is it?”
“It’s big, Perry. Pulitzer big.”
“But it could ruin this person’s life?”
She nodded again.
“You wanna tell me what this is about?”
“I can’t, Perry. Not yet anyway.” And maybe not ever, she added in her head.
“Okay, well, ah, is this person a criminal or something like that?”
“No!” Her response was automatic and a little more vehement than she intended. She softened her tone. “No, Perry, he’s a good man.”
“Uh huh. Well Lois, I’ve always trusted your instincts. Now, if what you’re saying is true, well, writing the story could be great for the Daily Planet. But ah, you’ve gotta ask yourself if not writing it is the greater good.”
She nodded again.
“Thanks, Perry.”
