Previous Chapter: Chapter 8Chapter 9
Lois paced. And paced. And paced.
She couldn’t believe he’d pulled that on her. Crossing his arms over his chest and then asking her leave in that aloof, detached superhero voice of his, as though he wasn’t actually her husband, too. Her vision blurred as tears threatened to fall, and she hastily reached up and wiped the corners of her eyes.
Then she paced more.
She needed to yell at him, pound on his invulnerable chest until her fists hurt, and then wrap her arms around his waist and hug him while he comforted her and told her everything was going to be fine. Yep, that was what she needed.
So what was taking him so long?
She peeked through the small window to Dr. Klein’s lab. Her husband sat, clad in his familiar blue, red, and yellow suit, but looking not quite heroic, with his head in his hands and his shoulders hunched. He looked small, uncertain, and fragile, and in that moment, her anger faded, replaced instead by worry, sadness, and fear. She moved away from the door and resumed her pacing, her hands wringing fretfully.
A few minutes later, she heard the door open, and she spun around as Clark stepped out into the hallway. His dark, troubled eyes met hers briefly, and she instantly felt his regret, doubt, and fear. He tore his gaze away and closed the door behind him, then looked up and down the hallway before moving closer to her.
“Thank you for waiting for me, Lois,” he said in the rather formal tone of his superhero persona. He then lowered his voice and added, “I’m really sorry about that.”
She stood frozen on the spot, her hands clasped in front of her, as she studied him.
“So, what did you need to speak with me about?” he asked, again using his formal Superman voice. He motioned toward the stairwell, which would lead them down to the parking garage or up to the roof, depending on their preferred mode of transportation. She allowed herself to be guided in that direction.
“Oh, just a story I’m working on,” she replied, playing along with his façade.
He walked a step ahead of her, then pushed the door to the stairwell open and held it for her. His face remained taut as she passed by him, and she sucked in a deep breath as she pictured him how she’d seen him a few moments before in Dr. Klein’s office, his head in his hands and his shoulders hunched. Her stomach turned in knots. She stopped as the door shut behind them.
“I’ll see you at home?” she asked, her voice low.
He seemed to hesitate, unable to meet her eyes.
“Actually, I, uh, need a ride.”
“You need a ride?” She looked up at him sharply, but he stubbornly stared at the ground.
“Yes,” he answered evasively, and he moved past her and started down the stairs toward the parking garage. She followed quickly after him, frowning in confusion.
“Are your powers . . . ?” Her voice trailed off. She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. He’d flown here to S.T.A.R. Labs of his own power, so unless they’d been
playing with kryptonite before she’d gotten there . . . The thought sobered her, and she stopped abruptly.
Clark seemed to sense that she was no longer following him, and he turned around to face her. His eyes finally met hers, but she couldn’t read his expression.
“No, I still have my powers,” he admitted. He glanced up and down the stairwell and then looked back at her again. A flicker of emotion crossed his face, but he quickly hid it. “I just can’t use them.”
Her brow furrowed in confusion, and she reached forward and grabbed his arm as he tried to continue down the stairs. He froze, and she felt tension ripple through his muscles as he flinched at her touch. Surprised, she pulled her hand back, and he took a deep breath and continued down the stairs. She followed after him in silence.
Twenty minutes later, she pulled the Jeep up in front of the brownstone and eased to a stop. From the passenger’s seat, Clark looked up and down the dark block and then nodded at Lois, and they both exited the car and hurried inside.
The silence that they’d shared since they left S.T.A.R. Labs was finally broken as he started up the stairs toward the bedroom.
“Let me get changed, and I’ll be right back down, so we can talk,” he said quietly, his hand gripping the railing.
“Okay,” Lois answered, setting her purse down on the side table near the doorway. Her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn’t had anything to eat since that morning. She wasn’t sure she
could eat, but she knew she should probably try. And it might be a good distraction, anyway, which she also felt she needed right then. “It’s late, and I’m hungry,” she said. “Okay if I order us a pizza or something?”
She saw him nod, and he then disappeared up the stairs, the regal red cape billowing out behind him. She quickly called to place an order of a pizza and two salads from their favorite pizza parlor, poured them each a cup of coffee, and then settled on the couch and sipped the hot liquid cautiously as she waited not-so-patiently for her husband to return. After several more minutes, she heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and she shifted on the couch to watch him descend down the last few steps. Her fingers tightened around the cup as she noted the tension in his eyes, now hiding behind his glasses.
“Sorry I took so long,” he apologized. Flashing her an embarrassed smile, he added, “I always forget how long it takes to get that suit off without using my powers.”
Despite this attempt of his to lighten the mood, she didn’t feel cheerful, and she couldn’t muster up a smile in return. She studied him as he made his way over to the couch. His movement was stiff, and he seemed to hold his breath as he moved past her and settled on the opposite side of the couch. She sipped her coffee again and pulled her feet up onto the couch as she shifted to a more comfortable position. When her eyes drifted back to her husband, she saw him just sitting there anxiously, staring at his coffee cup in his hands, which trembled slightly. His chin dropped to his chest.
“Lois, I need to apologize again for how I treated you at S.T.A.R. Labs,” he said slowly. He shifted uncomfortably and snuck a sideways glance at her. She held his gaze for a moment and then looked away. “I know you just needed answers, but I couldn’t give them to you then, and I needed to finish the conversation with Dr. Klein. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to use Superman as an excuse to push you out.”
She heard the sincerity in his voice, and she was thankful for it, though it only partly eased the sting. Nodding weakly, she swallowed hard and forced herself to reply calmly. “It’s okay, I understand why you did it.”
He seemed surprised by her admission, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he shifted over on the couch closer to her and set his coffee cup down before reaching out to her and pulling her into his arms. She allowed herself to be drawn to him, leaning her back into his solid chest. His arms wrapped around her, and she felt his lips brush against the sensitive skin of her neck, just below her ear. She let out a deep sigh and settled into his embrace as she closed her eyes.
“There’s a lot to tell you,” he started, his voice shaky. “And, of course, I’ll go into as much detail as you want. But the Reader’s Digest version is this . . . Um . . .” She stilled in his arms as he paused. He sucked in a deep breath, tightened his hold on her again, and continued, obviously struggling to keep his voice steady. “Repeated exposures to kryptonite in the last few years have caused my body to start shutting down, essentially. I—uh, Dr. Klein says that . . . um, my body is . . . d-dying.” His voice got considerably quieter. “Any use of my superpowers or any exposure to more kryptonite could, um, accelerate . . . the deterioration.”
Her chest constricted painfully, and she twisted in his arms, pulling away from him. Her head shook, almost involuntarily, and she found herself muttering, “No, no, no.” She set her coffee cup on the table roughly, the hot liquid sloshing and spilling onto the table, and she stood. “No, Clark, that’s—that can’t be right. He must be wrong.”
Her brain felt like it was going to explode as she replayed the last few times he’d been exposed to the deadly green rock. Even short exposures had seemed to hit him hard, and she remembered that the most recent exposure had put him out of commission for several days. At the time, she’d been too busy working on a big story to pay it much attention, since kryptonite exposures had become such an awful but frequent occurrence. That had been months ago, though.
She started pacing again.
“Lois,” he said weakly. “It’s right. He’s . . . right. I can feel it.” He scooted to the edge of the couch cushion but didn’t attempt to stand or follow her.
She stopped as a tear fell down her cheek. Her back was to him, but she felt his eyes on her. And she wanted to scream. She wanted to scream at him for . . . for not telling her and at the world for being so cruel and at every single one of the criminals who’d caused her husband any pain at all.
But instead, she just screwed her eyes shut. “Tell me everything.”
“I will, but please sit with me,” he pleaded.
She turned to face him, and as their eyes met, she knew he was one hundred percent serious. She shook her head as a sob escaped her lips, and her legs gave out. His strong arms wrapped around her before she hit the ground, and he lifted her into his embrace and carried her back to the couch with him. She clung to his shirt, now stained with her tears, and she cried into him.
“I’m so sorry to make you cry, Lois,” he whispered into her ear.
“Please, Clark, just . . . tell me . . .”
He kissed the top of her head, and she shivered and buried her face into his shoulder.
“It started a few months ago . . .”
TOCNext Chapter: Chapter 10
