Hate Myself For Loving YouFolc4evernaday
Chapter 18: Hold On To Me
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The warm morning rays peeked through the window, invading the corners of Clark Kent’s eyes, forcing him to draw himself out of the safe cocoon where he had found solace for the last few hours, sleeping away the stress of the previous day and the trauma from the failed rescue at City Hall. Fragments from the night and most of the morning pushed their way to the forefront of his mind as he let out a groan, stretching his arm out over the intoxicating warmth from the petite brunette that was curled up next to him. He squinted as the sun’s rays continued to make their presence known, sending warm rays across the bedroom. He began to stir, allowing her eyes to flicker open and peeled themselves back as he looked around the room, turning to his side where Lois was curled up against him,
Though he still carried the heavy weight from being unable to stop the bomb that had erupted in the middle of City Hall square he was grateful for the glimmer of hope he had received from the doctors last night. Michael Clemmons had been gone before he had arrived but thankfully they had been able to tend to Mayson Drake and the Judge’s clerk that had been found in the rubble that had once been the esteemed Metropolis City Hall. The anguish and pain that had continued to torture him throughout the rescue with what-ifs was long gone. All that was left was the solemn gratitude he felt that it hadn’t been in the middle of the day when the bomb had gone off.
It had been out of nowhere.
A shriek for help.
A deathly blast.
An explosion that was powerful enough to shake the foundation of both the City Hall building and the parking garage cemented across the street. His mind drifted to the never-ending river of what-ifs. How different would things have been if the bomb had gone off in the middle of the day with the building full of innocent people coming in and out of the courthouse and the public offices of City Hall? What would have happened if he had heard the bomb go off just a second before…or later?
He pushed the overflowing anxiety back down and turned to the surroundings around him, seeking out anything and everything to help ground him after the torturous evening of feeling anything but heroic. He glanced toward the bedroom window, blinking at the sun’s rays that shone through the bedroom and then moved his gaze to the dresser where the duffle bag Lois had packed after their trip to Smallville. Then he shifted his gaze to the petite brunette curled up next to him, feeling a hard lump in his throat.
He said a silent prayer as he reached over to tuck the loose strands of hair behind Lois’ ear. She let out a soft breath that tugged at his heartstrings. The anguish and despair that had filled his mind and thoughts for the better part of the early hours of the morning dwindled to a low ember as he stared back at her, mesmerized by the overwhelming feeling of pure serenity that came over him.
He had gone through it before.
Countless times.
He had come home after an extra torturous rescue and fallen into a depressive hole that he had to dig himself out of. All the while pasting a smile on for everyone, pretending to be okay and to be facing the world as if it was just another day.
Last night had been different.
For once, it wasn’t an empty apartment he came home to after a rescue. It wasn’t just isolation that greeted him but instead he found himself facing the tragic events of the evening with Lois. So many times he had anguished over his desire to have someone to see him and accept him through the good, bad and ugly. He’d dreamed of having that kind of openness in a relationship, sought it out desperately for years only to find roadblock after roadblock with everyone he had dared dip his toe into the relationship pool with.
Of course, that was before Lois.
A slow smile spread across her face as he reached over to cup her face with his palm, recalling the thousand times he had dreamed of waking up like this. Fragmented memories from the evening’s turmoil tumbled through his minds as he fought to hold onto the exhilarating embrace he had found himself in as each and every agonizing memory had been caressed away.
Before he could allow his mind to drift too far into the pleasurable memories from the wee hours of the morning, he felt a vibration against his chest as Lois titled her head up and met his gaze with a sleepy yawn.
“Hey,” she whispered, lifting her head up and rolling back on her side and gazing at him with a trance he felt would swallow him whole.
“Hey,” he responded, feeling his throat go dry as he wondered what else to say. Flashes from the early morning teased him. The intensity of the embrace he’d found himself in for nearly two hours before succumbing to the strain of exhaustion and mental weariness haunted him. He wanted nothing more than to pick up where they had left off and recapture her lips with his and block out the rest of the world. It was oh so tempting to lean just a little closer and do just that but something stopped him from indulging in that ever so tempting desire.
Many things really. Deadlines. McCarthy. The twelve people he’d pulled out of the remains of City Hall. Then there was the uncertainty regarding Mayson and her possible involvement in the threats against Lois. As tempting as it was to forget the world around him he knew he couldn’t.
“How are you?” Lois asked, reaching her hand over to cup his cheek.
“Better…I think.” He responded, not completely convinced of how he actually felt but for the moment he did feel better than he had when he’d returned from the scene at City Hall.
“Are you sure?” she asked, moving her hand to his chest as she stared back at him with a concerned expression.
He felt his heart jump into his throat as he met her gaze, feeling as if she was piercing his soul with her dark brown eyes. He cleared his throat, placing a hand over hers as he responded, “I don’t think anyone’s sure of anything right now. But for now, I’m okay.” He was quiet a moment before adding, “Thank you. I’m not used to …”
“It’s okay,” she cut him off, propping herself up in the bed with her arm as she patted her hand against his chest. She paused for a brief moment before pulling away, pointing to the bathroom door. “I should probably get ready. With everything that happened last night I don’t imagine Perry will be too lenient on either one of us walking in the door after nine.”
He nodded, feeling what felt like an unbearable weight on him as he watched her rummage through her duffle bag to retrieve a change of clothes before disappearing behind the bathroom door. He heard the sound of water running and let out a deep sigh, propping himself up in the bed and preparing to get ready for the day.
He let out a heavy breath as he lifted himself up from the bed and made his way to the kitchen to start brewing some coffee while he waited for Lois to finish her shower. He wandered into the living room and flipped the television on to fill the background with only to be faced with the bloody images from last night’s explosion.
He felt his entire body go numb and his mind clear of any thought of time as the image of the fiery blaze pulled him into a trance, blocking the world out as he found himself transported back to the scene where he had fished out people he had come to know as friends and colleagues.
“Clark?”
A hand reached over to tap him on the shoulder, and he looked up, slightly startled to see Lois standing in front of him fully dressed.
“Hey,” he gave a bewildered expression as he nodded to her, trying to push the memories from last night’s rescue out of his mind.
“Probably not a good idea to watch this right now,” She reached over to take the remote from his hand. “All it is is conjecture and sound bytes.”
He nodded, watching the remote fall into her hand and blinked when he saw the flash of power go from the screen. “It’s going to be on everywhere. Might as well rip the band aid off.” He looked around the room, taking in the scent of freshly brewed coffee coming from the kitchen. “I guess the coffee’s ready.” He pointed toward the bedroom. “I should get ready…”
“Okay,” Lois nodded to him.
“I…” He stared into her dark brown eyes as she stared back at him, finding himself unable to break away from the trance that drew him to her.
The words escaped his lips before he could stop them. Not that he would have stopped them if he had had the chance. They had been sitting there, festering in the back of his mind and weighing on his heart for the better part of a year.
“I love you.”
As soon as the words escaped his lips he felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders and the many torturous reasons for why he couldn’t indulge himself just a second longer in the sweet serenity of everything that was Lois Lane became a distant memory as she closed the distance between them and murmured her own declaration to him.
“I love you too.”
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City Hall had been reduced to ashes. Seven prisoners. One clerk. An ADA. The District Attorney and two bailiffs had been caught in the fiery blaze. Judge Andrew Thompson leaned back in his chair, taking in the surroundings of cherry wood and golden trim scattered around the conference room he had rented. There had still been no word on his clerk and as much as he loathed being here he knew the DA’s office hated it even more. He turned to the man across from him, light-skinned and blonde hair with an uncertainty in everything he did.
Thompson had seen ADA Clarence Wright in his courtroom a time or two before but never without the esteemed protection from District Attorney, Michael Clemmons. His heart lurched in his chest, recalling the grim news that had reached him in the early hours of the morning. He was one of the newest recruit to the office and unfortunately one of the least knowledgeable when it came to the cases the DA was working on.
Though with Mayson Drake in the hospital and Michael Clemmons having become a casualty from last night’s attack there wasn’t much the District Attorney’s office could do in this situation.
“ADA Wright, I’m trying to be generous with my time given the circumstances, but if you can’t be bothered to pay attention…” Thompson growled, tossing the ADA a red file folder, causing the ADA to sit upright, tossing his PalmPilot to the table space in front of him.
“I know I have it, your honor…” Wright began to stammer, continuing to flip between the digital device in his hand and the file jacket in front of him.
“Well, how about I just summarize for you?” Thompson shook his head in disbelief. “Your fellow ADA submitted a warrant application to my clerk without the backing of the Metropolis P.D. and without any solid evidence other than conjecture to support her claims….”
“Your honor, I’m sure…”
“I’m not finished, young man!” Thompson snapped, cutting the stammering from Wright off. “I want this taken care of. I will not see another warrant application from your office without a sign off from the Metropolis P.D…am I clear?”
“Yes, your honor,” Wright replied softly.
“You’re not the only one that lost someone in that blast.” Thompson shook his head in dismay. “I will not be showing the District Attorney’s office any leniency in this matter. We all are suffering but that doesn’t excuse gross misconduct and overreaching from your office. Am I clear?”
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Sean McCarthy readjusted his suit jacket as he kept a close eye on Amir Munour ducking out of the hotel room across the hall and making his way to the elevators. He kept himself at the appropriate distance for tailing Amir Munour. He spotted a security detail a few feet away but the assigned detail appeared to be more interested in talking up the cleaning lady than paying attention to the subject he was supposed to be protecting. A trait McCarthy planned to exploit during this draining assignment.
He knew he had to get close to Munour in order to make his move. He wasn’t sure exactly what Nigel and this secret partner had planned but they were confident Munour would lead him to Albie Swanson. When he did he would be there.
He stepped on the elevator, tucking his head down and huddling himself in the corner of the elevator car as he watched Munour pull out a phone and dial. “Yes, Wilder? I’m ready to review this Project Valhalla. Please have your proposal ready.”
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A flutter of anticipation ran through every end nerving as Lois stood in front of the elevator doors in the Daily Planet lobby, just a mere inch away from Clark Kent as she tried desperately to think of anything other than the intoxicating thrill that had run through her each time his lips had touched hers for the better part of the morning.
“We are so late,” Lois breathed, stealing a glance toward him before jerking her head back around for fear that allowing her gaze to wander would lead down a road that could possibly end with both of them enduring Perry’s wrath.
“Perry will understand,” Clark replied confidently as the elevator doors opened for them.
Lois let out a muffled grunt, uncertain how understanding their editor would be with the story of City Hall being crumbled to gravel and nothing to show for it. “We haven’t even got anything to offer up as condolences for our very poor time management skills…”
Clark let out a chuckle and his eyes twinkled as he responded, “Is that what we’re calling it now?”
She playfully swatted at his chest as they entered the elevator car, feeling a twinge of apprehension flood through her as she stared back at him. She let out a low hiss as her arms looped around his neck, pulling him to her as the elevator doors closed behind them. His lips pressed against hers with a assertive tug, taking her lower lip into his possession and teasing her with the tip of his tongue. She felt a flash of heat run through her as his hands roamed up and down her sides, slowly walking her back until her shoulder blades came in contact with the corner wall of the elevator car.
“This is not helping,” she murmured against his lips. “As soon as those doors open we’re going to be on dog shows and police academy coverage for the next month.”
“We’ll be in good company,” he whispered in her ear, teasing her earlobe with a caress of his tongue, and a soft breath against the sensitive flesh. She let out a shuddered gasp as his lips moved across the curve of her neck, tightening her arms around him as the last of her argument died on her lips. His attention moved back to her jaw, brushing featherlight kisses against her lips and fingering the outline of her ribcage with his index finger on her right side.
His hands moved up and down her sides as the soft ping of the elevator bell reached her ears, announcing their arrival on the newsroom floor accompanied with the obnoxious catcalls coming from her fellow co-workers. A flush of embarrassment flooded across her cheeks but she found herself unapologetic when faced with the irritated Perry White outside the elevator doors.
“Lane, Kent! You got a lot of nerve moseying in here at this hour without so much as a whisper of a story.”
Lois glanced sheepishly back at Clark, following his lead as Perry pointed at his office, motioning with his index finger for them to follow. She gave one last longing gaze to Clark before separating and making her way to Perry’s office.
‘Later,’ she smiled to herself.
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Panic.
That was the only word to describe the overwhelming feeling that ran through Mayson Drake’s mind as she scribbled her name across the forms in front of her. Discharge Against Medical Advice. That’s what they printed across the top of the page, staring back at her with the taunting formality of what she was doing.
She was incredibly lucky. She knew that. The blast had left her with a concussion and a few bruised ribs but she was alive. Tears glistened in the corners of her eyes as the reminder of what had happened to those she had grown to respect over the past few years.
She let out a breath as she pushed the forms back to the nurse standing in front of her, readjusting the bag on her shoulder.
‘You can do this.’ She told herself.
“Mrs. Drake, are you sure you want to do this?” the nurse asked.
“I can’t be here another minute,” Mayson said numbly, taking her discharge papers and heading toward the exit.
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Dan Scardino walked through the debris of the building that had once held the city’s prestigious offices and home to the district attorney’s office and the courthouse that instilled justice throughout the city. He felt a sense of dread wash over him as he rummaged through the site. He knew it was too soon for conspiracy theories but he already knew who was behind this. The deadly and precise action against the city’s officials were too close to the many cases he had pursued against Sean McCarthy. It was too coincidental not to be him.
“Over here, Scardino,” the Fire Marshall pointed toward the elevator shaft where they said the bomb had been planted.
Scardino let out a heavy sigh and approached the Fire Marshall, “What’s your theory, Marshall?”
He tapped on the blackened frame where the elevator shaft to City Hall had once been. “You see where these white spots are,” he pointed to the white flashes across the remnants of the elevator shaft wall that Scardino knew all too well. “That’s where the fire started and the bomb was ignited.” He pulled out a charred square metallic device and handed it to Scardino, “One of these bad boys was pinned to every single floor.”
“Christ,” Scardino muttered, feeling a heavy sense of dread fall over him as he looked back at the Marshall. He pointed to the crew that was still rummaging through the half of City Hall that had been crumbled to the ground and asked. “Any word on theories?”
“You’ll get my report like everyone else, Agent Scardino,” the Fire Marshall replied.
Scardino nodded, flashing a half-smile, “A guy’s gotta try, right?”
“I’ll try and get it to you as soon as I can.”
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Lois fiddled with the top button to her suit jacket, kicking her leg nervously, tightening her arms around her chest as she craned her neck to look over at Clark who was seated next to her as they waited for Bill Henderson to arrive. Her hand wrapped around the newspaper clipping that had sent her spiraling yesterday. Clark reached his hand over and squeezed her knee, offering her a silent sign of reassurance. She flashed him a quick smile, feeling a flush cross her cheeks at the contact.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Bill Henderson remarked as he opened the door to his office and circled around the desk to take his seat. “It’s been all hands on deck since last night’s bombing.”
“I can imagine,” Lois replied, stealing a glance in Clark’s direction before turning back to Inspector Henderson. “We don’t want to take up too much of your time, Bill. We just…came across something and well…”
“What is it?” Bill wondered aloud. “You got a lead on last night’s bombing?”
“Theories.” Clark shrugged his shoulders but didn’t elaborate on the suggestion that he might have a thought on who could be behind last night’s bombing.
“No, this isn’t related to the bombing but rather the case on McCarthy.” Lois pushed the newspaper clipping across Henderson’s desk and watched his brow furrow as he stared at the printed clipping.
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Valhalla.
It had been a mystic story that Katherine had heard time and time again as a young child. Her father had spoken of it with such pride. What she would have given for him to look at her the way he did his research on the mystical project.
She smoothed a hand across the manilla folders she had retrieved from her father’s old home office. She’d spent the last forty-eight hours consuming everything she could find of her father’s files on Project Valhalla. In just a few moments they would be meeting with their potential buyer, Amir Muunour, one of the most feared and hated terrorist leaders in the middle east.
A knock came from her office door and she looked up, startled at the interruption. The door cracked open and she saw a balding man in his late fifties surrounded by two burly sized men she could only assume were bodyguards.
“Dr. Wilder?”
“You must be Mr. Munour,” Katherine Wilder stood up from her desk and approached the terroristic leader with her hand held out for him to shake. “A pleasure to meet you.”
He stared at her hand for a long moment before opting to take it, giving it a firm shake and adding, “We’ll see if this project is worth my time, Dr. Wilder.”
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Bill Henderson ran a weary hand across his face as he looked back at Lois Lane and Clark Kent who were seated across from him. He caught the nervous glances coming from Lois and the uncertainty that came across like a neon sign. He glanced down at the newspaper clipping with the scribblings and then looked back at the duo.
“I’m not going to lie and say I think you’ve got your guy…err, girl.” Henderson remarked carefully as he folded his hands across the table. “The evidence…is weak and the chain of custody is …well, nonexistent.”
“But?” Clark prompted, furrowing his brow as he stared back at Henderson. It was clear the patience he was being forced to endure was eating at him.
“But the theory and circumstantial evidence does at least deserve a look.” He caught a concerned look on Lois’ face and quickly amended, “I’ll be sure to keep this with just myself for now until I have something more concrete.” He raised an eyebrow at Lois and added. “And something that can be used in court.”
TBC...
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