I've been working on this one for weeks now. I think two challenges or so gave me the idea and I will thank the Folc's who posted them as soon as I find those challenges again.
I also need to thank my beta-readers
Dandello - who always makes me think that my English is not that bad after all. But honestly, two suggested changes cannot be all there is to detect :rolleyes:
Tahu - who wrote wonderful feedback. (Vielen Dank!)
Schnuffichen - who isn't too shy to tell me where she thinks I wrote crap. (Vielen Dank auch dir!)
Nancy - who reminded me that I still tend to make mistakes. But I can live with that. Oh, and I loved your feedback, too. Did I tell you?
LaraMoon - who was even more nit-picky than Nancy. My world has turned upside-down! Thank you for your help 
This story is set at the end of Season 2 around the episode "Whine, Whine, Whine", which doesn't mean I'll mention any incidents of that episode.
Feedback is very much appreciated.
TOC Separate Lives
by bakasi
Part 1:* * *
Dies irae, dies illa,
solvet saeclum in favilla. * * *
Lois clutched at the pillow in front of her chest, blindly staring at the TV screen. She was shaking like a leaf as she sat on Clark’s sofa. She had briefly thought about wrapping herself in a blanket, but had dismissed the idea. It wasn’t the temperature that made her feel so cold. And a blanket was hardly going to help against loneliness. She wanted to leave Clark’s place, but hadn’t yet found the energy to move, let alone get up. All she could do was sit there and hope he would come back. Only he wouldn’t, she thought sadly. He surely wouldn’t. She had to accept that Clark didn’t want her. It had to be that, because she didn’t even want to imagine it could be something else. What she had in mind was just impossible, and thus Clark had to have left her. She had to face it; Lois Lane was going to stay alone. The man she loved wasn’t ready for any commitments and sad as it was, she didn’t love the man who might have been.
Lois swallowed hard. She had been so sure, so very sure to find Clark at home. She had been so eager to see him. It hadn’t even occurred to her that she might not find him at his place. And when she had realized he was gone, she had waited for him to return. That had been four days ago and still she hadn’t seen as much of him as the tip of his tie. Lois still couldn’t believe just how relieved she had been after she had told Daniel that there wasn’t a future for them. She had been excited; thrilled really to finally tell Clark she loved him. It had taken her awfully long to see the truth. She had fled him whenever she could, trying to avoid the moment when there was nothing left but to let him see into her heart. And now that she had thought everything was going to be all right, Clark was gone. He hadn’t even cared to pack his things, he was just plain gone.
She didn’t understand it. Clark had left at the worst moment possible. It wasn’t just her who needed him, but Superman as well. Where was Clark in a situation like this? It wasn’t like him to vanish completely when someone he knew was in trouble. He had even caught a bullet to save her, once. She had never thought that Clark would leave a friend, even if it was his fear of commitment that had driven him away from her.
<Oh, yes, Lois. And where was he during the heat wave or when Superman was blinded?> a voice in the back of her mind mocked her, making a point to show her that she had *again* misjudged a man.
“That’s not Clark,” she whispered in quiet protest although she wasn’t so sure of her words anymore. She knew that Clark often left her on a moment’s notice and without good explanation. But he always reappeared again, cracking a weak, apologetic smile. Whatever he did when he was running away, Lois hadn’t really thought that it was for the mere sake of getting away from her. She had been afraid that the reason he left was simple as that, but she couldn’t imagine this was right.
Why had he left now? She had prepared herself for the revelation of her true feelings. She had thought about it day and night. Lois had known that she needed to make a decision. There could be only one man in her life and it either had to be Clark, Superman or Daniel. The smart agent was the first to be crossed off the list. It hadn’t exactly been difficult to say goodbye to a possible future life with him. His courting had been enticing, but Lois wasn’t sure if it had been anything more on her part than a silly revenge for Clark’s time with Mayson. Lois didn’t even really miss Dan. Superman or Clark - that had been a lot harder to decide. And Lois still cringed in embarrassment as she remembered her secret hopes concerning the two of them. They were alike in so many respects. How much easier would her life be if Clark was Superman?
The idea had been appealing, because it would explain so many things about Clark. But she knew now that it couldn’t be and Lois wished she had never been stupid enough to hope for such a miraculous solution to her problems. It hadn’t been fair to either of them and the realization left her deeply ashamed. She was playing with hearts and her games were not going to end well.
Lois had been prepared to meet Clark and tell him everything she should have told him months ago, if only she had been courageous enough. She had known the speech by heart, she had imagined his reaction to it, had even dreamt herself as being in his strong arms. In her imagination, she had felt his warm lips on hers, the soft caress of his breath on her face. When Lois had her eyes closed, she could still feel his fingers on her shoulders, each of them caressing her in soft assertive moves as he had done it before. Lois knew he was a great kisser and there was no way she could feel safer in anybody else’s arms. She had been ready to meet him, but there was no way she could have been prepared to find his apartment deserted.
She had spent four days searching for him, calling him more than a hundred times until his answering machine couldn’t record any more messages. Her heart had been pounding in her ears each time she heard his voice. Her pulse always started to race like crazy until she realized it was just the machine asking her to leave a message. She had visited his apartment over and over again, hoping to find him there. Lois used the spare key under his flower pot and had waited inside for him to return after a long day of work. He hadn’t come at the end of the day and she had continued to hope that she would find him at the Planet the following mornings. He hadn’t been there.
She had missed his help while she worked on the Superman story. Lois was desperately trying to prove that all accusations against him were wrong. Of course she could do it alone; like she had written so many stories before Clark Kent had come into her life. But this time it was a lot more difficult. She wanted to help Superman and two people on his side were so much better than just one. But Lois kept on fighting without Clark. She had worked so much in the past days that Perry had sent her home. He didn’t know that she had returned to Clark’s place, figuring that she could sleep there as well as in her own bed. Only she didn’t sleep in either place.
Lois had tried to call the Kents, only to remember that Clark’s parents were spending their second honeymoon in Europe. She had no idea where they were exactly, only that they had suddenly decided to visit more than just Italy once they were overseas. Back in Smallville nobody answered the phone at the Kent farm and neither Rachel Harris nor anyone else had seen Clark there.
Jimmy had phoned every hospital in Metropolis, but there were neither a John Doe nor a Clark Kent. The police had promised to search for him but had also tried to break it to her gently that Clark might have run away on purpose. The longer he was gone, the more Lois considered that possible. There was no madman who had escaped prison and they hadn’t been working on a dangerous story. Bobby Bigmouth knew nothing and neither did any of their other usual contacts. Lois had to face the truth. She had scared him off. But there was also this other possibility. She knew who could have hurt him, though this couldn’t truly have happened.
<…US government confirms that Superman hasn’t been seen for almost twelve hours now…still await the number of sightings throughout France and Spain… other European countries have not registered any incidents in the past twenty hours… government declared that the state of emergency is not over until Superman is found either dead or alive… police advise everyone to be extremely careful in his presence. Superman is very dangerous. If you see him call the emergency services but don’t try to stop him… >
Fragments of the news fought their way through the haze in her mind, distracting Lois for at least a moment. Had the world gone completely crazy? Or was it just her ever worshipping mind that couldn’t believe what seemed so obvious to everyone else? How was it possible that the UN had declared Superman as an international enemy? That was just plain impossible. Or did she think that because she was afraid the accusations were justified? This would mean the entire thing about Superman was her fault. But it couldn’t be. Superman just wasn’t like that. She couldn’t be so wrong and thus Clark was perfectly fine. He had run away, Clark wasn’t ready for a relationship with her. It was simple as that.
She leaned against her pillow and sobbed. Where was Clark? She needed him so much. He would give her advice; he would know what to do now. He was a friend of Superman, but he wasn’t blind when it came to him like she sometimes tended to be. Lois wanted to find out what was going on. There had been times when she would have done it without a partner and easily so. Even so, she felt helpless now. With Clark, she was a much better a reporter. He made her a better person, too.
With a grunt of disapproval, Lois straightened herself. Who was this sad bundle of self pity on her partner’s sofa? She didn’t need Clark to find out what was going on. After all, she was Lois Lane, the famous, award winning investigative reporter and she was certainly one of the best journalists in Metropolis. She could do it on her own. Lois threw away the wet pillow and got up. A moment later she had grabbed her car keys and left Clark’s apartment.
* * *
The alley was silent but for the constant rush of pouring rain. Everything was dark but for a bit of light reflecting in some puddles on the ground. This part of Metropolis was one of the most dangerous places and surely the most frightening. The houses surrounding the alley were old and even though there wasn’t much of them to see, they looked dilapidated. There was no one interested in building up anything else, thus the houses remained where they were and with time had lost the glass in their windows. Old moth eaten curtains stuck to the windows, soaked by the rain. The apartments were abandoned and only the rats would live there anymore.
A groan broke the silence and scared off some otherwise bold rats that had tried to find some food. A soft metallic sound mixed up with the expression of discomfort as a man lifted himself up into a sitting position. He groaned again, trying to get to his feet. It took him a while until he managed to remain upright. His glance shot around, insecure and haunted. He moved and suddenly grabbed his side with a moan. With his other hand the man steadied himself with the help of the wall next to him. His breath came in panting gasps and he rested before he made another step, this time more carefully.
He tried to see in that dark alley, but failed. His head was throbbing painfully. Where was he? He didn’t know. He wasn’t even sure he knew the city. He took another step. He noticed something on the ground that didn’t look like it belonged to this place. It didn’t look like garbage - at least he thought it didn’t. It was more like a dark form that resembled a man. But with the lack of light he couldn’t be sure. As he approached the shape, he realized there was indeed a person lying on the ground. It was a man who wasn't moving at all. He hoped that the man was breathing. Carefully, he kneeled down beside the large frame. He knew that he should search for a pulse. Waves of dizziness washed through him as he leaned forward. He touched the man’s neck and felt something wet. Suddenly his hand was set on fire in an intense jolt of pain. He gasped for air, struggling to remain on his feet instead of giving into the agony.
He drew back before he had found a pulse. From what he could see, his fingers were covered with blood. Whoever the man was, he needed help. When he reached for the man’s neck a second time, the dizziness increased. The pain hadn’t receded completely and as he touched the stranger it hit him again with full force. He cried out and crawled away from the stranger’s body. He wanted to help but being near him was just too painful. He couldn’t do it, not alone.
As soon as he was away, the pain diminished and left him in utter exhaustion. But then, maybe he had been exhausted before. He didn’t know, but that wasn’t important, really. The stranger needed help. He should call an ambulance. 911. Was that right? Why didn’t he know for sure? Maybe, because his head was still throbbing like hell.
*Okay, call an ambulance,* he told himself and tried to recall what information he needed to give. His location. Where was he, actually? He’d have to ask someone. What happened? If only he knew! How many people needed help? That was easy…one, maybe two if his head kept hurting like this. What was the last thing…oh yeah, who was calling? Suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks. As hard as he thought about it, he didn’t know who he was. Shouldn’t a man know his name?
That was odd, really odd. He couldn’t recall when he had ever been so scared. But then, he couldn’t recall anything that had happened more than a few moments ago. He forced himself to go on and find help. He didn’t know what to do now, but one thing was for sure, the guy bleeding in that alley had worse problems than he. At least *he* wasn’t going to die. The painful throbbing in his head was mixed with a smaller jolt of discomfort in his side that increased whenever he put weight on his left leg. He looked down his side, seeing a torn shirt that had to have been white, once upon a time. Now it was covered with dirt and traces of blood. Was it his own or had it come from the stranger? He wasn’t sure which he’d rather have, really.
The man forced his concentration back to his duty. He had to find a phone. A quick scan of his surroundings told him that wherever he was, it wasn’t a good place to be. And somehow he doubted that finding a phone would be an easy task in this area. He had to go on. He really hoped that he would soon recognize something, that his memories would come back. It wasn’t normal that he didn’t even know his name. He started thinking about it a little harder, figuring that with enough effort, he would remember sooner or later. His headache increased, but his mind remained utterly blank.
Exhaustion caught up with him as he continued his quick pace. It didn’t take long until he had to rest again. Everything around him was abandoned, making him wonder if there was a living being anywhere at all. He really hoped that he’d find the way back to the injured stranger. *Stranger*. He didn’t even know his own name and called another man stranger! The irony caused him to crack a smile, but it ceased as soon as he thought of his own situation.
Was there really nothing he knew, nothing that could give him at least a hint? But his mind remained blank. He decided that his best option was to find someone who could help them both - him and the injured stranger. He moved on. To his great relief he saw lights after he had walked just a few steps more. He headed for them, knowing that light would mean people. But why did he know that? This was just way too peculiar.
He went on, getting closer and closer to what had to be a street. The houses around him were definitely in better state than those in the dark alley. A couple of minutes later, he was on a bright street. A few people were walking around, most of them obviously homeless. There was a family crossing the street that seemed to be extremely nervous. They were whispering, but some of their words were loud enough for him to hear.
“Wir sind hier falsch, gib doch zu dass du dich verlaufen hast,” an angry woman hissed at the man next to her.
“Ich geb’s ja zu, aber nun lass uns zusehen, dass wir hier verschwinden.“
He blinked. They weren’t speaking English, but he could understand them nonetheless. It was German, he was pretty sure of that. But why did he understand German? And why did he know that these people had to live somewhere in the western part of that country? This was really weird. The realization stunned him so much that he forgot about his initial plan of finding a phone. Then, another thought crossed his mind - was he in Germany?
Okay, he had to rethink this. First of all, the language he thought in was English. That reduced the number of places where he could come from only slightly. Many people spoke English as their native language. But his accent surely was American. He wondered if someone could have an accent in their thoughts. The family had spoken German. That could mean that he was in that country, or in Austria or Switzerland, maybe. But on the other hand, hearing German did not necessarily mean that he was in another country. The Germans could just as well be tourists. Given that the German family didn’t exactly know where they were, it was rather likely that they were tourists. He needed more information. Without knowing where he was, he couldn’t sort out which number to dial to place an emergency call. He was pretty sure that 911 was not an international number.
He looked over to the homeless. Hearing their language would most definitely give him a clue as to where he was. They weren’t known for moving across the Atlantic so much, were they? He approached them, slowly. He figured that in his current state they’d probably think he was one of them. But what was he going to ask them? Where he was? Could he tell them that he had a bad hangover and that he didn’t remember the way home? But all they would tell him was the name of the street and he wasn’t so sure that this kind of information would be of much help.
Start with the language, he reminded himself and he crossed the street, listening carefully for any conversation around him. Suddenly, he heard the screeching of brakes and the sounds of a car. He jumped back, landing on his butt in the process. The headlights blinded him and he covered his eyes with the hand that he didn’t have firmly pressed against his still hurting side. A car door was slammed shut and he heard someone approaching him.
“Are you okay?” a female voice asked worriedly. Then when she realized that he wasn’t going to die, she furiously screamed, “Can’t you look before you cross the street?” It was silent for a beat, and then the woman took his hand and moved it away from his face. “Oh my God, Clark!” she whispered.
To be continued...-------------------------------------------
Author's note: I realize that not everyone can read Latin or speaks German
This is an attempt at literal translation for the medievial latin hymn: Day of wrath, this day
Dissolves the century into flames
And this is something I've found in Wikipedia. This translation is an attempt to preserve the poetic character. Day of wrath and terror looming!
Heaven and earth to ash consuming.
As to the German, that's a usual conversation between a married couple that I must have heard about a thousand times. So, girls, if you ever want to annoy a German male go with the first sentence. The guys can be sure that the second sentence will cause this reaction in every German woman: 
“Wir sind hier falsch, gib doch zu dass du dich verlaufen hast,” an angry woman hissed at the man next to her.
<i>"We're wrong here. Come on, admit that you've taken the wrong direction,"... “Ich geb’s ja zu, aber nun lass uns zusehen, dass wir hier verschwinden.“
"Okay, I admit it. But let's see that we'll get away from here."
