I, too, loved this! And I'm so glad you're back!
I actually read this chapter two days ago, but I have had absolutely no time to post anything more than, say, "Woo-hoo, Rachel is back, great chapter, hurry back with more!". And I fiugred you wanted a little more than that. Anyway, because I've had some time to think about this chapter after reading it
once, what remains in my mind is how deceptively little happens in it on the surface of it, yet how rich it still is, and how much is happening in Lois and Clark's minds. Especially in Lois's. And how fascinated I am by your marvellous ability to write these two persons' thought processes.
She walked slowly, preoccupied over an old article that felt as old as time, or maybe even older. She lowered it, not hearing, not seeing the morning rush around her. She was just thinking. The crowds on the damp, dark-grey sidewalk poured around her easy step without a pause in the constant flow.
I love how you show us Lois encased in her own little time bubble, reading that old newspaper clippping, untouched by the oblivious stream of people that flows by around her. You also make me think of a fast-flowing stream or maybe creek, and in the middle of it a twig or a little rock is sticking up, unmoved by the constant flow of water. (But that last comparison isn't that good, because Lois is not an unmoving twig or a rock.)
It was amazing how much a person could change over such a short amount of time, she realized, looking around at the unchanged world around her. It was odd. Superman walked among them, but they were oblivious to it. More, Superman was one of them, and nobody noticed it.
You have just shown us Lois as a solitary moving object inside an oblivious stream of people. But Lois is thinking to herself that these people are oblivious not of her, but of him, Superman, who is also walking among them.
Lois's world had been shaken to its roots once again, and nothing else seemed to have changed.
Just her.
Which is why she is at least somewhat reminiscent of that lonely twig sticking up out of the creek as the water flows by it.
She felt so old, but no longer broken. She knew what she wanted. She knew what she needed, and she had come to realize how little the details, no matter how furious they might have made her not so long ago, could mean nothing.
She would take the risk of everything, because if she didn't have him, nothing else mattered.
I don't believe that Lois feels
old exactly. It's more as if she has suddenly reached a plateau from which she can look back and get her life into perspective. And what she can see is that
he, Superman, Clark, Kal-El, means everything to her.
She looked back down at the article in her hand—the article she and Clark had written together just before the chaos of being caught, those not-so-many weeks ago.
So that was the article she had been reading.
Clark—Superman—had been so innocent, so selfless, so invulnerable, even then, knowing he had a weakness. He'd thrown himself into a fight against a madman when he was already weakened, just to protect the people who had taken him in. His parents. His family.
He would have died for them all, if it had been necessary.
And Trask had actually known.
He had known that Clark Kent was Superman.
The horror of Lois's realization packs a punch.
Trask had been trying to kill him, as well as his parents, because he was an alien.
This is an important realization, too. Clark has many advantages because he is an alien. But some people want to kill him for it. And Clark hates the fact that he is not truly a part of humanity.
Across the street, as unnoticed as Lois herself, a tall, dark-haired, big-suited man bumbled along the sidewalk, keeping what seemed to be a constant stream of apologies for every set of toes he trod on and every bag or shoulder he bumped, though, of course, none of his apologies were paid any heed as people rushed along.
This is an adorable image of the bumbling version of Clark Kent.
After a restful night and the early flight in the sun, Clark felt physically as good as he could remember being. The last vestiges of sleepiness had vanished, and there was a slight bounce to his step as he made his way forward. The clouds had finally parted over Metropolis, and the morning sun was breaking through in all its glory through the scattered whiteness against the broad expanse of blue sky. He strode along the way to work, having chosen to walk rather than fly. Sometimes it was great just to get out and walk among them…to just be normal, for a little bit.
Superman is walking among them.
Even his guilt for the perfect night and consequential flight was kept firmly at bay after a short list of flawless rescues.
He was going to tell her.
Today.
Yes!!! (Of course she already knows, but he should still tell her!)
Today.
Today . . .
She was going to kill him.
Or worse, she was going to hate him. Distrust him. Push him away. And for good reason.
All for a good reason.
I love the way you are writing this. She will have good reason to push Clark away after he revealed he lied to her, but he did it for a good reason.
Lois was blameless in this. How could he expect her to see who he was, when he truly did act so differently in his guises? How could he expect her to give Clark Kent the time of day when she had already sacrificed so much for the man that she claimed—and truly so, Clark feared—to love? How could he blame her after she had saved his life and not slowed in her pursuit to help him for all these terrible, dark, lonely weeks?
How could he blame her when he knew it was his fault that she shivered and cried in her sleep, and charged into work so tired yet heedless day after day? When he knew how much his not telling her was going to hurt her?
He didn't take time to think, but just moved. Even as it was, he brushed against the bumper as he jumped out of the way, leaving a very permanent dent as the car bumped to a stop.
This definitely reminds me of a Superman movie, though I don't remember which one. I hope he didn't give his secret identity away, though.
What Lois Lane could do to Superman. Slow him down enough so that he was no longer faster than a speeding bullet—but slower than a braking taxi.
This is another of those quotes that I remember from two days ago!
But the way he had moved. He had been just there, and then . . . somewhere else.
It was one thing for her to realize that her very normal work partner was a superhero. It was quite another to see it with her own eyes.
How true.
Clark. She should be ranting at him, lecturing him about crossing the street . . .
Lecturing Superman about the dangers of crossing the street. Right.
Hey, it
is dangerous for Superman to cross the street if he's going to blow his secret identity by doing it!
Lex, Logram, Trask, the Primaries . . . Who knew who was watching?
But he had been busy coming to her. Busy watching her. He hadn't even noticed the car before it was too late.
Lois felt a little bird fluttering in her chest at that, but she shushed it, though not too firmly.
Aaaawwww...*happy sigh*
Clark winced, not looking at her, and his dark hair fell over to partially obscure his eyes. She wanted to reach over and push it away for him—Kal-El didn't seem to like it when his hair fell into his eyes . . . But then, that might just be the Superman image he had to keep up.
Was it? How did he really like his hair?
For some reason the question bothered her, and she moved it near the top of her list of questions, ridiculous as it seemed.
I like this little so-human tidbit.
“I am sorry, Lois,” he said carefully, meeting her eyes.
The way he said it gave her a warm thrill, as if he had just barely decided to tell her who he was, but without words. That was a stronger voice—there was no stutter, no wobble of nervousness, though it was clear that he had taken some special care to make sure there hadn't been.
Yay! He's working his way toward the revelation!
“I—I mean, when I realized I still had your keys . . . ” Clark continued.
Don't remind me, Lois thought with a spike of hot fury.
He had better have a good excuse, or Kal-El or no, he was going to get the lecture of his life. Running off for a rescue was one thing, but taking the keys and leaving her abandoned for hours without transportation was quite another.
He needs to tell her what happened.
“Don't apologize,” she said, a bit more sharply than she had intended as they walked into the shadow of The Daily Planet. Clark flinched the slightest bit, but his expression didn't change but for a slight flicker in his eyes, followed by determination. It actually made Lois feel better. He really couldn't let everything get to him, she realized, and he certainly internalized far too much. All of her observations of Clark Kent had certainly not been wrong—he took everything far too personally. But then again, Superman had too, he just hadn't shown it as much.
It looked like some of Superman's strength was being drawn into Mr. Smallville. That was just fine with Lois.
Good!!
Lois took a deep breath. “You said you have an explanation this time, and I'm going to hear it today at lunch, so you'd better not run off again.”
And if he did have to run off, she'd wait. And she'd keep waiting until he came back.
Yes!!!
Where'd he keep the Suit? Did he wear it under his work suit? What about his cape? His boots?
This is one of those quotes that I remember from two days ago. Once this topic was discussed in a comic books forum. One guy asked: "Does he wear his
boots under his
shoes?" Good question, when you think of it.
“Marie!” The man swore desperately, fighting against Clark's arms. “No! Marie!”
Clark should have tried to get him to calm down. He was hurt, in shock, but he himself had frozen at the sight of the delicate woman's broken body, now laid out on a gurney as the rescuers grimly prepared to cover her face.
Her dark hair sprawled around her.
Lois.
My heart is constricting with horror at this.
“Superman.”
It was Henderson. Clark was distantly aware of the ash-streaked officer coming up beside him, but he didn't move.
Henderson swore, then actually stepped forward and took the hero by his shoulders. “Listen, kid. I know it's rough, but you've got to pull yourself together. People are watching.”
Clark's haunted eyes went to the officer's slowly and he blinked, coming out of his panicked terror and stepping back and away from his touch. He shook his head, bringing a hand over his eyes.
“I—I couldn't . . . s-she's . . . ”
“You can't save everyone,” Henderson said, glancing around. Again risking breaking the hero's famed distance, he took Superman by the arm and pulled him aside, speaking low. “I don't know what happened to you, or where you've been, and if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. But these people need you now. We need you.”
And that was it. They needed him. Their need was greater than even his own fear, his own memories.
Wow. This is splendidly written. You've got to love Henderson here.
She stared at him. She wanted to ask him what had happened, if he was all right, and give him a big hug and not even talk, if he didn't want to. Just for him to know that she was there for him.
But not yet. He needed to tell her. Somehow, she knew he needed to.
I
love this. Lois wants to hug Clark, because she knows that he has just faced horrors as Superman. But she knows that he
needs to tell her himself that he is the famous hero, so she can't let on that she knows.
And I
loved that Lois showed him that Superman site! (How typical, by the way, that Clark himself wouldn't know of it.)
Clark looked at that, his eyebrows raised. “Oh, no. What did you do this time?”
“Me?” Lois clarified needlessly. “Absolutely nothing.”
A crooked, shy grin grew at the side of his mouth, almost as if it was asking her permission before appearing. “S-somehow I doubt that.”
It was amazing, Lois marveled as they rode down the elevator. It was amazing how easy it really was to relax around him, and to get him to relax in turn.
Aaaaaaawww!!!! *happy sigh*
She had realized how hard it was to keep Clark Kent's crush at bay, but until now she never realized how hard it had been for her to keep from relaxing around him.
How often had she needed to start the chant of Mad-Dog Lane to keep from being too easy on the guy?
On Superman.
It was time to get some things in the open air.
Yes, absolutely!
Clark was once again taken aback when Lois tossed him her car keys, though it had taken her quite a long internal debate to decide it was the best thing to do.
After all, he might be Superman, but he—Clark Kent—had almost crashed the other day in the rental car (never mind about her part of the near-accident), and she had seen what he had done to that taxi earlier that morning—the bumper would never be the same.
She had to face it—she had seen Superman throw cars, lift cars, catch cars, rip car doors from their hinges, get hit by cars, and crush cars. She could remember few times she had actually seen him—that is, Clark (it was ridiculous to try and picture Superman driving)—drive, and though those times didn't necessarily have a bad memory to go with them, it was one of the greatest moves of trust she had ever made to hand over her car keys.
Maybe she was being overdramatic, but there you are.
Aaaaawwww!!!
Okay, I loved it, once again, Rachel. Hope you won't hit us with some more really evil A-plot all too soon!
Ann
