Chapter 58:
"Lois?"
Henderson glanced up at the voice, a tick of irritation flaring up at his sudden interruption, but he nodded at the officer guarding the barricade to let him through. Kent bounded up with long strides and engulfed Lois in an emphatic bear hug. She returned the gesture heartily, cradled against his chest. Bill looked away as the hug went on a little too long, trying to watch them surreptitiously without appearing to watch them.
Clark pulled back to grip her face in his hands. "Don't ever scare me like that again. I thought I'd lost you."
Lane dashed a tear away and smiled at him. "Can't get rid of me that easy, Kansas."
Clark ducked his head to lower his lips to hers, and Henderson cleared his throat pointedly. They seemed to realize where they were and who they were with in that moment, and they stepped away from each other like nervous middle schoolers. Bill's smile was saccharine. "If you'll allow me to continue, Mr. Kent?"
He nodded, bashfully turning away. "Of course. Sorry, Bill."
An eyebrow arched at the familiar use of his name, but he didn't bother to address it. "Lois, you don't know where he went?"
She shook her head vehemently. "No. I woke up and I wasn't even in the same room as before. I'm not sure if they moved me completely or just to a different part of the building. But I was alone. They'd left me tied up, but clearly they underestimated my skills."
"Skills? You broke your own thumb. I'd hardly call that a talent."
Kent seemed to only just notice her hand, wrapped and iced, and gently cradled her injury between his own two hands. Henderson narrowed his eyes at the two. There was something he was missing here, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Then again maybe it had to do more with their furtive relationship.
"What about you, Kent? Olsen's note said that you and our mutual flying friend had gone after her. Any luck?"
It was Lois' turn to look confused. "Note? What note?"
Henderson hesitated, knowing there were too many eager ears eavesdropping right now. "The packet you sent over. On yours and Kent's... side investigation, let's say?"
"I wasn't aware you'd sent it already," she directed at Kent, brows knit together.
"I got scared when you disappeared. I thought maybe there'd be something useful in the notes, and at the very least, Henderson would be in the know."
She huffed a little, but relaxed into her boss— partner's?— arms. "It's important that you don't share that with anyone else, Bill. Not yet, anyway."
He looked down at Lane. "Do you think I'm stupid? Only me and my partner Maggie Sawyer have even seen it. Now, back to my question?"
"What was the question?"
That from Kent threw him off a little. If it had been Lane, he'd have expected it, or thought it was her playing coy about some tidbit of information that she wanted before the cops. From Kent, it just seemed like dodging. He rephrased his query more deliberately. "You two didn't find anything on your search for Lois?"
He shook his head, wrapping an arm around Lois' shoulders. "Regrettably, no. But the guy said they must have been keeping her somewhere lead-lined, so he couldn't see her. He went to search for Lex on his own after hearing that Lois had been found over the police scanner. He thought he had an idea where he might have gone."
"And where might that be?"
Clark shrugged. "I told him that Luthor has some property holdings over on the north end of Suicide Slums. He said he'd do a quick patrol and get back to you, but I just really needed to see Lois, so he dropped me off."
Lois snuck him a quick peck on the lips. Henderson kept his poker face on, for their sakes as much as his own.
Kent was lying about something, he just didn't know what yet.
"You feeling alright, Clark? You're not looking too hot."
He seemed uncomfortable for a moment, squirming away from the question. "Yeah. Yeah, just, uh, allergies kicking up."
Another lie. But maybe he was sick and just didn't want to tell his girlfriend that. Or emotional about Lois and didn't want to show it. "Well, you don't look half as bad as Miss Holyfield here." That got a chuckle out of the pair, but Lois seemed tired, her laugh a little more forced. Henderson sobered. They could tackle the ins and outs of her kidnapping later. "Look, we've set up a perimeter and we've got an APB out for Mr. St. John. We've got our eyes peeled for our other... assailant, but I'd rather keep his name in the inner circle for now, good?"
She nodded, eyes drooping as she did. "Good. We'll get him. I'm sure of it."
"I'll do everything I can, Lo. Promise." She seemed to be fading fast, so he nodded to Kent. "Go home. Rest. Recover. Would you like me to get you a ride—?"
"I'll take her home. Don't worry about it."
He eyed Kent suspiciously again. "Didn't you just say the Man of Steel dropped you off?"
"Yeah, but I already called a car. No sense wasting good police resources when this is something I can actually help with."
Bill nodded with a beatific smile and shooed them off. The second their backs were turned, his smile vanished. There was something else going on here. His cop instincts were firing all over the place, but he couldn't yet place the source for his mistrust.
Later. For now, he'd focus on finding St John, come hell or high water. Lois Lane needed a win.
*****LnC*****
She sat there unseeing as he flitted around her, tending to her without a word of her own input. It was comforting, at least. She couldn't shake the fog over her head, unable to see anything other than the way his body jerked as the bullet hit, the way he laid slumped against the gritty concrete wall. When she was able to shake that imagery, she was bombarded with the sight of Lex, angered, lifting his hand against her.
She needed a reprieve. So she shut down. Shut it all down, barring breathing and the muscle control necessary to keep herself sitting upright.
His hand, firm and warm at her back, nudged her slightly, and she followed the path of least resistance as he guided her to her feet, walked her into his bathroom. She stayed mute as he slowly, painstakingly lifted the hem of her shirt over her head. And though part of her was able to recognize he was undressing her, she didn't have it in her to protest.
It wasn't until she felt the pulsing hot stream of water cascading over her shoulders that she realized he wasn't making any advances. She blinked heavily as he appeared before her in the shower, naked now as well. And she knew she was out of it, because although her eyes were riveted to the line of his abs where his obliques met his six-pack, she wasn't really seeing him.
He bathed her, and the pattern and flow of his soapy hands as they massaged across her body did a lot of good. He was gentle in the extreme, exceedingly so with her hair, and after a while, the rhythm of it had her eyes fluttering closed.
The water shut off, and he took to drying her with a fluffy black towel. He took his time, making certain she was good and dry, before running the towel roughly over himself and pressing her forward again, back into the bedroom.
It was simultaneously the most intimate and innocent thing she'd ever experienced.
She registered the black silky sheets beneath her skin, warm from her shower but cool from where the air met the silk, and sank into them with a slight sigh of relief. She wasn't expected to do anything else right now, no stories to chase, no bad guys to worry about, no expectations whatsoever. She just had to rest, let Clark take care of her.
He slid in behind her, the mattress dipping under his weight, and she rolled back into the cradle of his warm body. The skin to skin contact felt grounding, made everything around her feel real. Maybe she'd get some rest, and her mind would finally stop floating. His fingers toyed with a lock of hair brushing across her brow delicately, and the motion had her drifting off towards sleep.
*****LnC*****
Lex burst through the doors of his office in a blind panic, the only thing grounding him to reality being the silver box he had clutched in a deathgrip.
It was Kent. This whole time it was Clark freaking Kent.
He batted the thought away as he scrambled to toss everything he'd been reading back into the Bureau 39 banker's box, along with the locked silver case. He slammed shut the open file folder on his desk and tossed it on top.
Clark Kent was the man of steel. The do-gooder. The superhero no one could shut up about...especially Lois.
He cast a glance around the room, searching frantically for the lid to the box. He wished he'd never opened it. He wished he'd never found out about it. He wished he could get rid of it, never doubt Lois, never investigate Kent. But there was no resealing Pandora's box. He knew things now. Things he couldn't un-know.
Like Clark Kent being Metropolis’ newest golden boy. Man of steel.
He stopped on his heel and waved a finger through the air at no one in particular. He turned back to his closet, where he kept his safe. Lex punched in the combination rapid-fire— Jaxon's birthday— and flung open the door. He grabbed the briefcase out of it and a few precious trinkets, along with his passport. He froze with the little blue book in his hands. What good would this do him? He had nowhere to run to.
Clark Kent was the man of steel.
He was so royally screwed.
He didn't have much time to waste. If Lois had half a brain, she'd have already gone to the police, and no doubt Kent would have twisted the truth, and they'd be after him any minute. He just needed a place to hide where he could ride out the storm, until they figured out he was innocent. Or somewhere he could run and never have to come back.
Or he could go on the offensive.
The idea was appealing. He couldn't unlearn his revelations, but he could certainly share them. He grabbed his emergencies-only cell phone out of his desk drawer and stopped short before closing the drawer. He debated the pros and cons for all of three seconds before making his mind up.
He grabbed the gun and stuffed it in his briefcase.
Deed done, he locked the case filled with cash, and pulled out his phone and dialed a number he knew by heart at this point. His heart raced as he waited for the other line to pick up. He didn't have time for this. He didn't have time because Kent was a freaking God in a cape! He was the devil in sheep’s clothing and Nigel was dead and Lois had cheated and he felt like the most hated man in Metropolis for no good reason... and he was spiralling. He forced himself to breathe, stopped pulling at his hair, and tried to gather his composure.
A click sounded, followed by a voice. "Who is this? How did you get this number?"
Relief washed over him. "Fane. It's Lex. I need to talk immediately. It's urgent."
There was a pause too long for his liking. "Look, Luthor, I understand you have a lot of questions, but I think I've answered just about all of them. I'm really a busy man—"
The banker's box thunked heavily against his desk where he plopped it, and he set the briefcase on top of it squarely. "No, no, no. No more questions. I take it back. I'm taking it all back. I want out. I don't want to know anything else."
"What? That's insane. You're the one that asked— you—" another pause, and Lex knew the Lieutenant-Colonel was finally putting it together. "You know something."
"I can't talk right now. I need to get somewhere safe, and we need to talk in person. Only call me at this number. All right? I'll call back in as soon as I can with details on where we can meet. Got it?"
Fane agreed rapidly and Lex hung up. He pocketed the device in his breast pocket, and looked at his neat little stack. He hesitated, eyes lingering on the Bureau 39 box. He pursed his lips, debating once more, before ultimately giving in and fishing out the silver box again. He popped the latch and grabbed a handful of the rocks for himself, shoving them alongside his gun in his briefcase and resealing what was left in the metal latch box. It was for the best to split the supply up anyway, more chances for it to avoid ending up in the wrong hands. Like Kent's hands.
Satisfied, he hefted the box under one arm and gripped the briefcase tightly in the other, and made a break for it back into the outside world.
