Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Fanfic Related Kerth Quiz 3: Best Revelation

"Lois," he called out to her.

She stopped and looked back at him, "Hmm?"

"Giulia caught me floating in my sleep," he told her, holding her gaze steadily.

Shock stole across her face and her jaw dropped, "You... you... *floating*?!"

Clark smiled, feeling free for the first time in years, more free than the ability to fly had ever given him. "Yes, Lois..."

She marched back to him and pulled his glasses off his nose. Not satisfied she swept his hair back, muttering things he chose not to hear under her breath. After arranging his hair to her satisfaction she let out a low growl, "We'll have a *lot* to talk about after this weekend," she threatened.

“Clark,” she repeated louder, more firmly.

Once again she got his attention. He stopped shifting and raised his eyes once more. His face was pale, his lips drawn into a thin line. Clark’s jaw was set tightly in a desperate attempt to appear unfazed, but there was a flicker in his eyes that betrayed him. Lois’ gaze wandered down towards the black case he held in his hand. Her breath caught as she recognized it as timer complete with explosives. She closed her eyes as the puzzle pieces added to a picture, she knew she had seen but still found hard to believe.

“Did you swallow that bomb?” Lois asked the one thing that consumed her thoughts.

“Yeah…” he conceded quietly, defeated.

His admission rendered Lois speechless, taking the wind out of her sails. If anything she had anticipated silence, being laughed at or flat-out denial. Lois blinked, trying to come to terms with the sober expression on Clark’s face. There was nothing to indicate that he might have been joking, that all this may have been an elaborate prank Clark had played on her.

“You swallowed a bomb,” Lois repeated calmly. “How…?

“Does it matter?” Clark replied stiffly.

His facial muscles twitched in an effort to keep his expression neutral. But the dark pools of Clark’s eyes danced unsteadily, not quite able to look at her, but also never leaving her out of sight. Lois saw fear, too, and a burning anger that caused a shiver to run down her spine. Instinctively, she took a step back while in turn, Clark shrunk in on himself.

“I’m sorry,” Clark whispered in a voice laced with pain. Any hint of anger was gone. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly.

Hesitantly, he dragged his right hand from his pocket and reached out, as if to brush a loose strand of her tousled hair behind her ear. But he stopped the motion in mid-air, where his arm remained for a few awkward moments until he dropped it again. Stuffing his hand back into his pocket he studied her intensely.

He sighed. "What I'm trying to say is...even Superman plays Pokémon Go."

"You mean...he took your phone and caught you some Pokémon?" Lois asked, more confused than ever.

"Not quite. Sometimes...after a rescue...I check the surrounding area for interesting Pokémon."

"You mean, you go with Superman? Like a police ride-along?" The idea stung her heart. Superman had never offered her a chance to tag along on his rescues around the globe.

"No," Clark said, shaking his head, the fear returning to his features. "I mean...Superman? He's nothing more than me in a garish suit that my mom created, so I could help people without everyone knowing that Clark Kent isn't a normal guy."

"You...what?!" Lois asked as his words registered in her mind. A sense of vertigo crashed over her. She felt light-headed and nauseous.

"I'm Superman," Clark repeated in a flat whisper, hanging his head again. "I know that destroys your image of the hero. And I know it probably shatters all the trust you put into me. But...it's the truth. I've wanted to tell you for a long time now. At first, I was afraid you'd print the story in your quest for the Pulitzer. But pretty soon, I knew I could trust you not to run to Perry with Superman's true identity."

The apartment door had barely clicked shut behind them when she rounded on him.

“Are you crazy? Are you completely out of your mind? What were you thinking, jumping off the roof like that? All it would’ve taken is someone looking up at the wrong moment, and it’d be out, Clark!”

He stiffened as the implication of her words sunk in.

“You know.”

“Of course, I know! You have Superman’s suits hanging in your closet, Clark! What, did you think I wouldn’t put two and two together?”

Clark Kent is seated in the front row, almost directly in my line of sight. I wonder for a moment how he arranged that, then dismiss the thought as unimportant. I glance around him to find his wife – the woman who should have been Mrs. Lex Luthor – but I don’t see her. Perhaps she couldn’t get credentials, perhaps the state wouldn’t allow more than one representative of the Daily Planet, or – and I flatter myself, of course – she couldn’t bear to see me die, to lose me forever.

Warden Castle is droning on about justice or some such drivel. Justice! Were there any real justice in this world, I would be ruling it. All the people, not just those of Metropolis, would have to look up to see me. As I boasted to Kent and the woman whom I still love on the night I met them, I deserve to be the highest—

Wait a moment.

On the night of his first appearance – the night he issued his challenge to me – Superman told me that if I wanted to see him to look up. And as I think back on it now, he was all but throwing my own words back into my face. How could he know what I said—

No. That is impossible. There must be another explanation.

Lois made a sharp slashing movement with her hand as she vaulted to her feet, her grief giving over to exasperation as she bit out, "You don't understand! He managed to give me one of our signals after he went down... three taps to signal meeting up and whoever gave the signal's apartment. That means he was *alive* and rational enough to give me that signal. You *have* to go looking for him *now*! He could..."

"Lois!" Superman cut her off abruptly.

Lois snarled and grasped the hero's shoulder, trying to urge him to Clark's balcony, "I *said*..."

Superman grasped her shoulders as he rose fluidly to his feet, turning her to face him. Then, holding her gaze steadily, he squeezed her right shoulder firmly, then tapped it - one - two - three - four times, then squeezed it firmly again, all the while holding her gaze.

Lois froze and stared at the hand on her shoulder. In an effort to order her thoughts she ran through her and her partner's code in her head. One: pull back, Two: meet at the Planet, Three: meet at whichever partner's apartment, Four: all clear. Bracketing the taps were squeezes to signal the start and end of the signal. Not even Jimmy knew this code as it was reserved for times where they couldn't rely on verbal or visual cues which normally, for them, meant either they were undercover or somewhere dark. They had each *promised* to share the signals with *no one*. Taking in a shuddering breath she returned her gaze to the superhero's, "Clark?!"

“I don't buy it”, Perry announced. “You're hiding something, Clark.”

“No. I think he's telling the truth,” Lois said slowly. “After all Perry, what's the alternate explanation? That Clark- *Clark*- is really Superman?” She scoffed. “You think that you and I could have had the story of the year- of the century- under our noses for months and not realised it?” She saw Perry waver and pressed her point home. “Besides, I've seen Clark get cut. Superman is invulnerable, remember?”

As Perry's suspicious expression cleared, she risked a sidelong glance at Clark and caught his silent sigh of relief. She knew Perry well enough to know that he still questioned Clark's explanation, but she'd thrown enough doubt on the subject that he hopefully wouldn't return to it. And for that, Clark owed her one.

He just didn't know it.

A stiffening jolt of fear lanced through Clark as he looked around remembered where he was and knew now was the time to speak. “My only agenda is to build a committed relationship with you based on trust, because I trust you with my life … my heart and my greatest secret.”

She leaned forward. “Secret?”

He took her small hands in his, leaned over and a tiny puff of air passed seductively over her cheek when he whispered tenderly in her ear, “I am the Man of Steel … Superman.”

Lois gasped, pulled back and without a word, gently removed his glasses and with one trembling hand, smoothed back the ebony locks of hair that always lay across his forehead. Doe-shaped brown eyes looked over his features and the realization of his words were suddenly mirrored in the shock of her expression.

“Clark … I suspected … but thought the idea was impossible.”

He gave her a lopsided grin and said, “Over the past year or so, I’ve learned that nothing is impossible.”

She was about to say something more when the PA system went on:

All passengers for Alieanor Airlines Flight 1077 bound for London will commence boarding at Gate 31 in ten minutes.

She quietly opened the door. Lois peered inside. Beyond the door, the room was dark, with the only light coming from a dim lamp on the nightstand next to the bed. She could see someone laying in the bed, the comforter pulled up to his neck. But something was off.

She stepped inside the room and went to the bedside. She looked down on the familiar face snuggled into the blankets. Confused, she pulled the blankets back.

"Superman?" she asked, looking to Mayson. "I don't understand. I thought you said Clark was in trouble."

"He is, can't you see that?"

"Mayson, for the love of God, don't jerk me ar..." She bit off her words abruptly and looked back at the sleeping face next to her. "C...Clark?"

“This is…I mean, it’s…educational, I guess,” Lois said with a shake of the head. “And I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but…why tell me all this?”

His smile grew. “Because I want you to find me.”

All of a sudden it became clear what he was doing. These were little breadcrumbs, laid down to try and lead her to him. He was entrusting her with his greatest secret, something that he had probably never told anyone, something that she hadn’t been worthy of knowing, apparently, until this moment. What had initially felt like a break up was now almost beginning to feel like a proposition, like he was opening himself up to a deeper relationship with her, and it was exciting and confusing at the same time. “Couldn’t you just tell me who you are? Give me your name?”

“What fun would that be?” he answered. His eyes twinkled for a moment before his expression began to morph into something more serious. “Anyway, this is about you making a choice. If you prefer not to know who I am under the suit, I will respect that. I will be disappointed, but at least I know that’s your decision. But if you do want to meet me, the real me, then you can have that. That’s my decision, what I want.”