The Card, chapter 2
“Clark is Superman.”
It really said that, right there on the envelope. The words were written clearly, every single letter as clear as crystal, completely impossible to misread.
But it couldn’t be true. It was impossible.
Because Clark was… well, Clark.
Her best friend. Her confidante. The dorky, adorable guy who ate popcorn with her late at night, watching the latest rom com with her without complaint.
And Superman… well, he was SUPERMAN.
No. It was impossible. Utterly impossible…
Wasn’t it?
But then she thought about it, really thought about it, and suddenly it couldn’t make more sense than it did…
Because didn’t it explain basically— everything?
Lois knew Clark better than she knew herself, or at least, that’s what she always told herself—
But was that actually true?
Really the man was a menace, and in many more ways than she cared to admit—
Including the fact that he was an absolute mystery.
The truth was, she didn’t know him. She really didn’t, even if she wanted to believe she did. There were so many missing moments, so many things about him that she just couldn’t explain.
But now, with these words written out on this envelope, finally, after all this time— Lois actually COULD.
She shoved the envelope deep into the recesses of her handbag, under her wallet and smushed somewhere against her keys, where she hoped it would somehow cease to exist entirely…
When she emerged from the alley a few minutes later (or hours, she wasn’t entirely sure which), she was in a complete haze. She couldn’t process anything around her— not the hoards of people rushing past on the sidewalk, nor the luscious smelling food stands that always seemed to call her name…
So she ended up wandering the city streets for a while, with absolutely no destination in mind. Every now and then she would look up to the sky, thinking she saw him fluttering up above, among the fluffy, white clouds…
But no, it was just a pigeon. Or a tiny airplane, far away and high in the sky and barely visible to the naked eye…
So she continued wandering. She roamed past the arched entryway of Centennial Park, and vague memories suddenly flooded into her brain that she couldn’t fully explain— memories of some kind of wooden chariot, a mystery man clad in strange, silvery garb, and memories of feeling remarkably anxious about…
Something.
She really couldn’t put her finger on any more than that, or even when that had actually happened, or a single event that surrounded that strange memory…
But she knew it was real. There was really no doubt; and she knew, somehow, that it had to be connected to the envelope— the envelope that had managed to rock her entire world.
She just stood still, staring at the empty patch of grass, when suddenly she saw a flurry of movement out of the corner of her eye…
She startled, shrinking against a tall bush that climbed up the side of the arch, as a yellow taxi slowed to a stop at the curb, right before her.
And at that moment her instincts kicked in.
She didn’t know how she knew this— but as a man climbed out of the taxi, then approached by yet another man, both of whom had stern, serious expressions riddled on their faces—
She knew this would be huge.
By this point in her career she had learned that there was nothing more trustworthy than her own instincts, despite the fact that they often led her straight into danger…
She stiffened. But then she heard them start muttering to each other, quietly under their breaths, so she inched forward, making sure to keep hidden and obscure against the bush…
She felt the pull of the story completely surrounding her, engulfing her, pulling her deep into its claws, and she let it, embracing it with welcoming, open arms. She really needed this right now— it was a perfect distraction.
She squinted, trying to make out the men’s faces.
And then, suddenly, her heart felt like it came to a complete stop as the younger of the two men turned towards her, his his dark hair settling onto his forehead, his features starkly obvious in the bright, mid morning sun.
It was Billy Church.
Billy Church, of all people. The son of the billionaire— who was also notoriously an infamous crime lord, of course.
But Billy had always been stagnant in his opposition to all of that. He had been insistent, through his entire life, that he was the “good” one. He was the philanthropist, the one who used his money to help people, not to harm…
And sure, there were rumors about him anyway, that was nothing new…
But he had been out of Metropolis’s hair for years now. He lived somewhere in the West Coast, and his word had been actualized over and over, with more and more institutions in the area bearing his name as his wealth spread throughout the region.
Truthfully, she never would have expected this, not in a million years.
And besides, Church was rolling in money, his father one of the richest men in the US, supposedly even wealthier than Lex Luthor himself.
Why Church would ever choose to be involved with any of this she could not even begin to contemplate…
The last thing he needed was money— and especially money obtained with nefarious means…
Another man followed shortly behind him; and then they started talking, and she scrambled inside her handbag, searching for her tape recorder. She managed to pull it out, pressing record right as they started speaking.
”What do you have for me?”
This was it. She knew it was. This was that new crime syndicate that Bobby Bigmouth had already given her a whole earful on— Metrogang? Is that what he called it?
“Spit it out, I don’t have all day.”
Somehow these things seemed to come to her, especially in the most potentially dangerous scenarios like this one. She had a nagging feeling that it would be a mistake to approach this alone, and part of her wondered if she should sneak back to the Planet and grab Clark first…
But then she remembered the envelope, which she hoped had somehow magically disintegrated into dust, and those horrible words that were written straight across it:
Clark is Superman
Clark is Superman
No. She definitely didn’t need Clark Kent.
Of all people.
She shrank against the bush, being careful to stay hidden between the scratchy branches. She felt them claw at her arms, likely leaving a web of scratches in their wake— but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Nothing— but the story.
She reached out with the tape recorder so she wouldn’t miss a single word…
Clark is Superman
Oh. That mattered, too.
She shook her head, trying to shake those pesky, horrible words right out of it. She couldn’t let it take over her life like this. She was Lois Lane— top banana, the best reporter in the entire world. And NOTHING would get in the way of a story. NOTHING— not even him.
And then she narrowed her eyes, forcing herself to focus, as she struggled to hear what was being said.
“It will cost in the range of four million dollars—“
“Oh that’s just peanuts. That’s not even in the league of what we’re trying to accomplish—“
Crap. She had clearly missed something. She started fumbling with her tape recorder and reached out even farther, struggling to catch every single word—
Until suddenly, something caught her wrist instead.
And then, before she knew it, she was yanked by the wrist out from behind the bush, the branches sweeping painfully across her in the face in the process, and she was looking him straight in the eye…
But they were still among the bustling crowds of people... All she had to do was let out a scream.
Any noise would do, really…
But instead, before she even had a chance to recompose herself, and before her mind could finally settle on a course of action, she felt the butt of a gun shove against the small of her back.
And then she was unceremoniously shoved back towards the abandoned alley.
She noticed that same rat scurrying along the edge of the building, as if nothing was amiss, as if nothing was out of the normal, even in the slightest…
And then the gun pushed her violently, and she found herself thrown against the brick wall of the building.
Her breath hitched as she tripped over her shoes, but she caught herself before she spilled onto the ground entirely…
And then she looked up, her eyes widening as she felt her heart beating loudly in her ears…
The gun was still held out straight towards her, the barrel open wide, threateningly pointing right between her eyes.
She looked at the gun, and at the hand holding it, and at the fingers clenched tightly on the grip; and then she followed his arm, up to his shoulder, and then, before long, she was looking straight into his dark, brown eyes. He grinned, the corners of his eyes wrinkling as a wide smile spread from ear to ear.
“Well now. I know who you are, of course.” He paused. “Lois Lane.”
Of course, she knew who he was as well. “Billy Church,” she said. He didn’t even attempt to deny it. “You’re making a mistake—“
“Oh, no,” he said. “I don’t think so.”
His finger was on the trigger— she saw it resting there, and it was trembling, threatening to end her life in an instant.
She knew what she had to do. It wouldn’t even be difficult. She had done it before, so many times, and he always, ALWAYS came.
But it felt different now. In the past it was Superman who came—
But this time it wouldn’t be Superman— would it.
“Please,” Lois said, her eyes wide. “Please, you don’t have to do this.”
“You see, Ms. Lane, I really do. You’ve seen too much— and we both know you aren’t exactly someone who tends to keep things to herself. Now are you…”
Help Superman
That's all it would take— and he would come. And he would protect her, and he would save her.
Help Superman
The man grinned, his eyes focused on hers, the gun still pointing right between her eyes. And then his finger trembled on the trigger again, and then, to her horror, it started to push against it—
Her mouth dropped open. She needed to say it. She needed to scream…
But she couldn’t get the words to come.
And then, as he finally pushed the trigger, there was an impossibly loud bang—
And it almost felt like the entire world around her slowed as she thought so many things at once…
She was going to die. She knew she was. There was really no denying it—
But she was also going to die alone.
Alone. Horribly alone. With no one to miss her, no one to mourn her, no one to even remember her, not for who she really was, anyway. Because nobody could really get past her thick skin, through her fascade—
Except for him.
Clark Kent. The only man who really knew her—
Even though she didn’t even know a single thing about him…
And then, as her life started flashing before her eyes, she wondered what it was all for. Because it couldn’t have been for all the Kerths, or even for that Pulitzer—
In the end, all of that was meaningless…
She watched in horror as the bullet rushed towards her and she closed her eyes, preparing herself for certain death…
But at the moment that she expected the world to go black, instead— she felt a sudden, intense gust of wind, so strong it swept her hair behind her shoulders and off the back of her neck.
She gasped, her eyes popping open—
Just as his hand closed around the bullet, grabbing it in midair, only centimeters away from her face.
And then she realized he was looking at her, straight into her eyes… and her breathing ceased entirely, as if she had completely forgotten how to breath…
He peered into her eyes. As always, his eyes were big and warm and filled with an overwhelming, overriding goodness that no one else in the entire world could possibly match. He was a force in and of himself. He stared at her, his fist closing tightly around the bullet—
And then he grinned.
“You ok?”
She didn’t answer. She didn’t think she could possibly speak, even if she tried…
He noticed her unsettled expression, and his face immediately filled with obvious worry and concern. “I’ll be right back,” Superman said. “I just have to deal with Church— then I’ll take you home.”
No— not Superman. Clark. It was Clark who said it…
He peered deep into her eyes again, almost as if he were trying to reach into her soul— and she realized that all she saw— all she would ever see— was Clark.
He was Clark— so completely Clark. It was uncanny, really, and she wondered how the hell she had never seen it…
Lois swallowed.
She blinked several times, watching as Superman— Clark— sped forward towards an obviously shocked Billy Church, grabbing him by his shoulders as a satisfied twinkle flashed in his eyes…
And she didn’t even wait for him to disappear before she turned on her heel, launching straight into a run.
She ran and she ran— and then she ran some more. She couldn’t possibly go fast enough. She needed to run away— not from the scene— but from this horrible, profoundly disturbing reality entirely.
Her world didn’t make any sense anymore. And Lois couldn’t live in a world that just didn’t make sense.
Clark. Superman. Clark. Superman.
This couldn’t be happening. It just couldn’t.
She remembered absolutely nothing of the process to get there, and she could barely even remember if a taxi was involved— but then suddenly, somehow, she found herself standing at the front door of her apartment building. She glanced at the brown bricks, her hand shaking as she pulled her key out of her handbag, and then she pummeled straight through the front door.
She stumbled up the stairs, tripping over her own feet as she continued on…
And then, finally, after her trembling hand fumbled for far too long with the lock on her apartment door, she barreled straight into her apartment. She quickly locked the door behind her, securing all three locks— and then she collapsed straight onto her brown, worn-out couch.
And she just sat there. Her eyes were glazed over, and she couldn’t even come up with a single, coherent thought.
Until, suddenly, she startled as she heard three loud knocks at her door.
———
Clark wasn’t new to saving Lois Lane.
He had done it so many times at this point that he had completely lost count.
(No he hadn’t— he had saved her exactly thirty seven times as Superman and another dozen as Clark. But the actual number of times Lois had had such near-misses alarmed him more than he cared to admit, so he chose not to let himself ruminate about it too much.)
He knew that her response to him was always reliable and always consistent. She was always enamored by him, far more than he could even begin to dream of as Clark Kent—
Enamored— and entranced.
And she always waited for Superman afterwards.
Always.
That is— until today.
When Clark returned to the archway at the entrance of Centennial Park in order to retrieve Lois so he could usher her back to the Planet, or to her apartment, or to whatever destination she chose—
He was fairly surprised to discover that she was gone.
He stood on the sidewalk for a moment, taking in his surroundings, and nodding absentmindedly to people as they greeted him as they passed right by him on the sidewalk.
He briefly scanned the area, searching for her in case she had decided to wait on a bench inside the park—
But part of him knew that she was really, truly gone.
He KNEW something was off. He knew it. She had been acting odd at the Planet, and especially to him. By this point he had a fairly good read on Lois Lane, and on exactly what made her tick— and he should have realized that when he picked up on her strange mood, he never should have just let it go…
So he stretched his arm over his head, squeezing his hand into a tight fist, and then he launched straight into the sky, disappearing into the clouds above the tall buildings.
He continued to scan the city as he flew, both with his super vision and with his hearing—-
And then he found her.
It wasn’t exactly difficult to do so. It was almost like she was a magnet, pulling on his heartstrings with such vigor that he had no choice but to follow…
And so he landed quietly in the narrow alley behind her apartment building, his feet falling so softly that they didn’t make a sound.
He spun in place, and a moment later he was pushing his glasses right back against his dark, brown eyes…
And then he strolled casually towards the front door of the building.
As always, the front door of the building was locked. He searched around for a moment, ensuring that there was no one around him—
And then he lowered his glasses to the edge of his nose. He narrowed his eyes, focusing all of his inner energy directly onto the lock—
And a small jet of red light suddenly shot out of eyes and right towards the lock, and it immediately disengaged with a subtle click.
He trotted up the stairs, all three levels of them, until he finally reached Lois’s floor. And then he emerged from the staircase, and before he knew it he was standing right outside her door.
He knocked three times, bouncing on his heels eagerly as he stuffed both of his hands into the pockets of his pants.
And then he waited, quite impatiently, beyond ready to get to the bottom of what could possibly be bothering Lois…
But there was no response.
He knew he shouldn’t peek inside, he knew he should allow her the privacy she clearly needed…
But then his glasses were once again at the tip of his nose, his vision passing right through the opaque, beige walls of the hallway.
Ultimately he couldn’t resist; when it came to Lois, he could never resist.
She was sitting smack in the middle of her couch, her hair draped over her hands as her face hid inside of them. And then his hearing kicked in, and he heard a small sob…
There was really no question. Something was very, VERY wrong.
He shook off his X-ray vision, pushing his glasses back against his eyes. And then he knocked again, even harder this time.
“Lois?” he called. “Lois, are you there?”
She didn’t respond, but his hearing picked up on the sound of her shuffling around inside.
Slightly encouraged, he tried again.
“Lois? Are you in there?” He knew she was, obviously, but, as always, he had to play the game. “Can you let me in?”
No response again, but the shuffling sound got louder. He jumped back a few feet, giving her the space he knew she needed…
And then he started hearing the sound of her locks clicking open, one after the next.
There were three of them in all, plus a chain on top; and, as always, they were all locked, to keep the dangers of the city out and far away from her— or maybe it was really the reverse, to keep herself far away from the city.
Lois finally unlatched the chain at the very top, and then he watched the doorknob turn, the door finally opening a small crack…
But as he looked at her, and straight into her eyes, he startled, his eyes widening.
It was so much worse than he even imagined.
Her eyes were bloodshot, swollen, and puffy, as if she had been crying for quite a while, and her cheeks were covered with trails of dry tears that had since been covered with streams of fresh ones. And as she looked at him vacantly, almost haunted, he knew that whatever it was— it was bad.
Really, really bad.
His surprise transformed into genuine concern and he took a step towards her, reaching for her hand—
But then, to his shock, she jerked away.
He blinked in response, completely at a loss.
“Can I come in?” he attempted.
She just stared at him, her expression unwavering.
“Lois…”
“Suit yourself,” she spit out, shrugging. And she turned away from him, drifting right back to the couch and settling onto it.
He tried to catch her eye again as he entered the living room, but she couldn’t have been more clearly avoiding his eye. She was staring out through the living room window and at the city landscape, where cars rushed by on the street down below.
“Lois, what’s going on?”
She didn’t reply.
“Lois, you know I can read you like a book,” Clark said, slowly inching further into the room. “Something’s been going on all day— you even seemed off at the Planet this morning—“
Lois jerked towards him, and yet she still clearly couldn’t get herself to look him in the eye. Looking right past him, she sighed, rolling her eyes.
“Just— leave me alone,” she said. “I’m fine.”
Clark’s breath hitched as he continued to watch her, and then he shook his head. She was seriously the most frustrating woman he had ever met in his life…
And boy, did he love her for it.
He moseyed over to the kitchen— maybe he could bring her something to eat. That usually worked when it came to Lois, especially if it was something sweet…
He pulled the fridge door open and peeked inside— and then he, too, was rolling his eyes.
Mustard and pickles.
That’s all she had— a bottle of mustard, which was almost empty, and a full jar of pickles.
Well— he would have to go with the pickles…
He snatched the pickles off the shelf, then depositing it on the counter. He noticed that it was still sealed so then, without thinking, he closed his fingers around the lid, and started to pretend to struggle with it.
It wasn’t long before Lois was finally looking at him— but she was staring at him, almost as if he had two heads.
“What the HELL do you think you’re doing?”
“I…” he stammered. “What do you mean?”
She stared at him, her face totally blank— but then her eyebrow cocked severely as she narrowed her eyes, intensely glaring at him.
“So now… you can’t even open a pickle jar by yourself.”
Clark didn’t even know what to respond. This had ALWAYS been part of his facade, this was nothing new…
Her glare continued as she pushed herself onto her feet, then making her way across the kitchen. And as she approached him, she snatched the pickle jar right out of his hands. She glanced at it for a moment before she smacked the lid on the edge of the counter, leaving a very obvious dent in the laminate countertop; and then she lazily closed her fingers around the lid, easily turning it.
“Thanks,” Clark said.
And her eyes narrowed even more…
“Lois— please tell me what’s going on. Please. Something is clearly bothering you, eating away at you. Let me help.”
Lois’s eyes were wide and round as she was clearly thinking— something. What she was thinking Clark couldn’t even guess…
And then she closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“Lo—“
“Ok,” she finally said. Clark raised his eyebrows. “Ok. You’re right. There is— something. There’s something— and I’ll tell you what it is.”
She paused, opening her eyes again and looking up at him. And then she peered straight into his eyes, burrowing deep into him, so deep he was convinced she was laying him bare, leaving him completely exposed.
And suddenly he couldn’t help wondering exactly what she knew…
“Look, Clark,” she said. “I—“
And that’s when he heard it.
Help, Superman!
He stared off into space, listening closely, trying to make out exactly what he was picking up.
He heard a loud crash, a crackling fire, and screaming, followed by yet another desperate call for help—
Superman! Help, please!
He blinked, once again seeing Lois, who was still standing in front of him. Her lips were pursed— and Clark realized she was no longer talking.
Almost as if she knew what he was about to do…
SUPERMAN!
He had to go. He really had no choice.
“Lois…” he said, loathing himself yet again for what he had to do. “Lois, I’m so… I’m SO, so sorry—“
But then she said something that he never could have expected.
“Go.”
Clark blinked. “What?”
“Go,” she repeated, louder and more urgently this time. “Go return your video to blockbuster, or whatever you’re going to say you have to do—“
Clark sighed. “Lois, look—“
“No, I’m serious Clark. Go. Go take care of it— your ‘cheese of the month’ subscription’s waiting…”
“Lois, it’s ok if you’re mad. I get it. I’m doing the same thing I always do, I’m disappearing right in the middle of an important conversation, like always—“
But then she reached for him, nudging his shoulder. “I’m not mad,” she said, her voice steady and calm. He cocked his eyebrow in response. “I'm not! Just— go. I’ll still be here when you’re done— and then we can continue this—“
Clark shook his head. “Ok, now I REALLY know something’s wrong—“
But she just nudged him again.
HELP!
He heard a loud crash coming from the site—
And he knew he couldn’t delay.
He glanced at her, his eyes wide and pleading. “I’ll be right back—“
“I’ll be here,” she said, her voice revealing nothing of her emotions underneath.
Nothing. Nothing at all.
And then, as hard as it was to do it—
He turned away from her.
He turned— and he knew he couldn’t look back. Because if he did, and he caught her eye even for a second, he would never find the strength to continue on…
But the world needed him. The world needed Superman.
He had no choice…
He fled into the hallway, breaking into a run as he disappeared into the staircase—
And he was finally alone. He spun in place, going faster and faster as the beige blur became a brightly colored, red and blue one— and then he transformed into another man entirely.
And then, taking a deep breath, he launched himself forward into superspeed—
And he disappeared, leaving only a strong, intense gust of wind in his wake.
