From the Dark (4/?)
by Catherine Bruce
Rating: PG-13 for language, violence, and perhaps some sexual situations later on. It all depends on how badly I blush while attempting to write… those scenes.
Summary: Here, Lois has been missing for over a year. When she comes back, she and Clark have to fix some issues. There, Lois is trying to come to terms with a world without a Clark Kent and somehow survive a war-torn Metropolis.
Disclaimer: I don't own "Lois and Clark." That joy and privilege falls to those that do.
Author's Notes: This is set a year after the events of "Tempus, Anyone?" Despite what it says in the first couple of parts, this is not a deathfic, even if some people start out dead. They get better, honest!
Please Note: The timeline of this story is slightly confusing at first. It starts out Here, which is in a modern day Metropolis, and flip-flops back and forth to There, which starts out a year prior and takes place in an alternate alternate Metropolis.
Special Thanks: To my Beta Type Peoples! Without the proddings of one Psychofurball, this would never have gotten past the second part. Thanks also to LaraMoon for the quick but thorough beta (all those poor commas, thrown to the curb!), and to KSaraSara, Saskia, and anyone else I may have forgotten that I have pestered with this.
***
From Part Three
~*There*~
She took out the rations card that had once belonged to Marta Sawyer until two days before Lois’ concussion, almost three weeks after her arrival. Marta had been working on clearing out one of the war torn buildings when a support beam way and ended the woman’s career - and life - in one swift and final blow. They had assured her that the woman had died instantly and that taking the rations card before The Department could get there was the only way to ensure that she could get her own food and supplies. It didn’t stop her from feeling guilty, though, that one woman had to die so that she could survive.
“I know,” she whispered before shaking her head and continuing. “But I’m feeling better now and besides, you make it sound as though I were pregnant with all this ‘delicate condition’ nonsense.” Lois stabbed the card through the air in his general direction. “And even if I were, it wouldn’t mean I was an invalid.”
“Alright, alright.” He held his hands up in defeat. “I’ll get Jimmy to take you to Marta’s work sector tomorrow. A bup bup!” Perry held up a finger as she was about to protest. “Tomorrow. Put an old man’s mind at ease and rest for at least another day.”
Lois huffed sullenly, not looking forward to another day of watching everyone else work while she just did nothing but sit in her cot and stare at the walls. “Alright, fine. I’ll stay put like a good little girl.” She grumbled darkly into her even darker sludge. “Doesn’t mean I’ll like it.”
~*Here*~
And then she was blinded and her world tilted dangerously with inertia. Frantically, she fought with the sheets that snaked around her body and held her down, restricting her movements, as she tried to climb to her knees. There was a shriek, followed by a meaty thump, as she finally freed herself and perched on hands and knees as she tried to collect her bearings and breath.
Lois almost couldn’t see through the haze that seemed to settle on her vision like a mist. Her entire body was frozen, fingertips and toes beyond numb and soul shattering shivers that quaked to her very core.
Finally the haze cleared, though it still felt as though she had been tossed, naked, into a Minnesota snowdrift in January. Carefully, she climbed down from the tray that had been her home for far too long.
***
Part Four
***
~*There*~
Marta, as it turned out, had been a very strong woman. That, or she had actually been a workhorse in disguise. After ten physically excruciating hours of clearing out what had once been a Cost Mart, Lois wondered exactly why she had been so eager to get to work when one of her new coworkers not so kindly informed her that her predecessor would have had the job done in half the time.
Already exhausted and having reached muscle failure before lunch, Lois wasn’t too keen on the constant reminders of her shortcomings and lack of pulling her own weight. Instead of lashing out physically, which she would have gladly done had the other woman not matched the physical description of Marta to a tee, she retorted with her best weapon available to her in the form of the English language. “I’m a reporter, not a Clydesdale. Sue me.” Of course, it had already been a rather long day and mental exhaustion was catching up to her, as well.
The behemoth of a woman, whom Lois suspected was actually the illegitimate love child of the Thing and the incredible Hulk, just growled at her before barking out for her to finish up here as the rest of them started on the next building. Left alone, Lois took a moment to stretch out her weary muscles. She expected she’d shed those ten extra pounds she’d been trying to lose for awhile now by the end of the week.
After about five minutes of rest and some much needed water, Lois picked up a broom to clear out the remaining small debris. It was harder to push around the big stick now with her back and shoulder muscles screaming out in agony and begging for mercy, but she would be damned if she was to allow She Thing the pleasure of reminding her on her faults again. She was so intent on her task that she didn’t hear the back door opening, or see the shadowing figure as he snuck up behind her. But she did notice when her arm was seized behind her back and a blade was pressed against her throat.
“Well, well, it appears we have a little sheep that’s been separated from her flock! Such a pity. Don’t you know that there are coyotes about?” The flat of the blade traveled down to rest at her clavicle.
Terrified, she didn’t even think as she brought her foot down hard on her captor’s instep and elbowed him as hard as she could in the solar plexus. The man cried out and Lois wrenched free, gasping when the blade grazed against her skin in a superficial cut. She began running as she cried out, hoping that one of her coworkers would hear from the next building. The sweat and grime from a hard day’s work stung as it ran into her cut, causing a string of colorful expressions to be forced from her mouth. Then, she went down hard as something wrapped around her ankle. Not expecting it, she cried out again, and a blinding pain flashed through her, centralizing in her shoulder.
***
~*Here*~
This was most definitely not the Metropolis that Lois had died in yesterday.
For one thing, it was well after the supposed curfew and there were still cars driving around; people sitting in late night diners. And the first time she saw an overflowing trashcan in one of the alleys, she had almost cried at the beautiful unremarkableness that she had taken for granted over the last several months.
Lois pulled herself away from the window of one of the diners where she had gazed longingly at the families and couples enjoying their meal and themselves. As she walked on, she pulled the thin blanket more securely around her shoulders. She had been lucky enough to find a pair of scrubs that probably belonged to the unconscious man she’d had to step over after climbing down. Even with the layers, she was still a block of ice.
If I went back and walked into the diner, would I melt?
Lois turned down a blind alley, unsure of her destination but knowing she had to keep moving, when a burst of wind threw a scrap piece of newspaper in her face. Annoyed, she pulled it away and would have thrown it down to the ground had it not been for a word in bold text in one of the headlines.
Or, rather, a name.
Superman.
It was then she realized that she hadn’t seen the statues anywhere. Not a single one.
Or the signs that warned against breaking curfew, or the other countless, ridiculously strict laws.
Somehow, Lois found herself pressing against a brick wall, knees pulled tightly into her body as she unfolded the scrap of newsprint with shaking fingers. There were no pictures to accompany that article and for a moment she felt a pang of all too familiar disappointment.
It was immediately overshadowed by the simultaneous urges to sob, laugh hysterically, and kick something repeatedly. So she did all three, still sitting down in the dark alley as her legs tortured a poor defenseless trashcan, the sound barely drowned out by her laughing, choking sobs.
Eventually an irritable resident of the building behind her yelled out that she’d better shut the hell up before he called the cops on her crazy butt.
Several breaths later and Lois was fairly sure that she was done crying for the moment. Gingerly, she picked up the clipping and smoothed it flat against her lap, trying in vain to collect her thoughts and memories, to figure out just where she was, and how it correlated to her reality. She read the page-four headline, “Superman Saves Six in Trinity Hotel Fire,” about four more times before reading the article. It was a brief account, detailing how the superhero had extinguished the blaze, going so far as to mention the rescue of a family pet that probably shouldn’t have been there in the first place.
Really, it wasn’t much, but it was enough to let Lois know that she had indeed woken up in a place far different from the one she had left.
For one thing, there was no Enforcer. There was Superman.
However, whether or not there was a Clark Kent was another matter altogether. The clipping she held was from the Star, and she didn’t recognize any of the reporters’ bylines in the handful of articles on either side of newsprint, so she had nothing to go on from there. And, even if there was a Clark in this time, she had no reason to believe that he would be her Clark. There was no way she would allow herself to give herself that false hope. To do so and end up disappointed would leave her eviscerated, too much like the last time had.
Lois was unsure how long she sat there, staring blankly at the clipping, and unsure of what to do, before it started to rain. Slowly, she turned her face towards the heavens as the light drizzle rapidly turned into a torrential downpour, and though it would have seemed impossible to her moments before, the icy chill that had settled in her body intensified.
Lois slowly got up, instinctually knowing that she had to at least keep moving. Her limbs were stiff, barely cooperating as she concentrated on moving one foot in front of the other.
It was hard to walk in the rain, especially when she didn’t know exactly where it was that she was going. Her only thought when she had left the hospital was to escape, and now that she had, she found herself even more lost. Had she been more aware of herself, Lois would have been horrified to discover that she almost wished that she was back there. At least there, she knew what to expect most of the time.
It was a driving force, the rain, almost as though it were trying to drown her, angry that she dare intrude upon its world without so much as an invitation. Its servant, wind, howled at her, screaming at her for the blatant impertinence. The wind nipped at her heels, somehow finding every available opening in her scrubs to attack her already frozen skin.
When she tripped and fell in a pothole, the icy puddle water clinging to her, she almost gave up, almost allowed the rain to take its vengeance on her. She turned her head beseechingly towards the heavens, ready to concede defeat, when she stopped.
Suddenly, the wind and rain’s brutal torment held a different possibility. Perhaps it wasn’t vengeance they were after.
Maybe all they were trying to do was herd her somewhere, instead.
Clutching the sodden sheet tightly around her soaked clothes, she stumbled out of the puddle and towards the familiar loft apartment.
***
~*There*~
The only thing that he knew he was good at, the only thing that he knew he was good for, was being “The Enforcer.” His father had told him from an early age that he could never be a normal child, or a normal man, simply due to the fact that he was abnormal. An abomination, really, and one that should never have been allowed on this beautiful planet that thrived on normalcy. It was a fact that he had learned to live with and he was grateful to his father for seeing past his monstrosity and loving him as his own son.
Alex stood on the bridge of his father's statue's nose. The enormous granite statue had taken the citizens over three months to complete and he remembered clearly the irritation in his father when it had taken them so long. As punishment, the rations had been cut back for nearly two months.
He couldn't help but find it amusing that starving people would waste their rations by hurling them at him along with their barbs and insults. He didn’t tell his father about that, because the last time he had tried, he’d simply been instructed to take care of the problem the next time it arose, and to make sure and sweep up the ashes when he was done.
He’d felt sick, and had to find someplace to throw up the next time. Fortunately, no one had said anything directly to him for several months following, but that didn’t stop his ears from picking up stray snatches of conversation.
He leaned back against the cool rock, and slid down his father’s forehead to rest on the slight bump in the arch of his nose. He pulled his knees up close to his chest and allowed himself to relax, to take in the voices of the city. Even in their impoverished state, he could hear families laughing together, children singing with their parents or playing with the family’s hunting dog.
Alex felt a pang at the reminder that this was something that he could never have. However, unlike when he was speaking with his father, he couldn’t find it within himself to hold these people’s happiness against them. He knew what it was to be without, and he wished it on no man or woman.
Slowly, his eyes closed as he tried to imagine living down there, but somehow, all he could see was himself standing always to the side as he watched on. He shrugged it off, and was about to imagine flying over open fields where there was no one around for miles, when an ear piercing scream slashed through his skull.
He found himself floating before he was even aware of what had happened, and his heart was thundering as he tried to pinpoint where the sound was coming from.
Then he heard it again, this time a call for help, and he was off in a flash.
Alex found himself inside an old building, mostly cleared out save for a small amount of debris. He paused for a moment to gather his bearings, trying to figure out what had called him here. A split second later, he spotted the woman trying to fight off a man.
Usually, he didn’t bother with domestic disputes, However, there was something about the woman that made him want to tear the man away and throw him against the nearest wall. He suspected that it had to do with the four inches of steel protruding from her skin, and how it didn’t seem to stop her from trying to gauge her opponent’s eyes out.
In a blink, he was standing over the two. He heard the sound of tearing cloth before he reached down and pulled the man up and off of her by the collar. Giving into his earlier urges, the man became airborne before crashing with a meaty thump on the other side of the room.
The woman was still panicking, struggling to move away. Blood was gathering from a cut that crossed her skin just below the clavicle, and was pooling around the metal spike. Her shirt was torn, and dirt was mixing with the blood and sweat on her skin, and yet there was a fire in her eyes that sent tingles shooting down towards his toes.
He heard movement from outside as people were coming to investigate. On an impulse, he reached down and scooped her into his arms before flying off, going slow enough to not jostle her injuries too badly.
A small hand fluttered softly against Alex’s neck, the soft warmth startling him as he landed on an isolated roof a short distance away.
“Clark?”
***
~*Here*~
It was well past midnight, in the early hours of morning even, before Clark could finally bring himself to return to his apartment. He’d spent the past several hours flying, unable to hear any pleas for help there may have been over the pounding in his ears.
Lois is…
Several times, he had almost made it to the sanctuary of his parents’ home before stopping himself. Undoubtedly, comfort would be found there, whether in his mother’s protective embrace or his father’s firm grasp, but then he would have to tell them why he was there. He could hardly think it himself, let alone say it out loud.
Lois is…
Lois is…
Oh God.
The balcony door splintered beneath his tenuous grasp as he swung it open, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He quickly changed into shorts from the basket of clothes he hadn’t gotten around to putting away and plopped heavily onto his sofa, burying his face into his hands. The suit laid in a wet, sodden heap on the floor, forgotten as the pounding in his ears matched the rhythm of the pouring rain against his window.
Actually, it sounded less like rain and more like a shower.
Clark raised his head as he concentrated on the noise and heard something just beneath that, something muffled.
Crying?
In a daze, Clark stood from his couch and followed the sound, and as he drew nearer to his bathroom, he could make out the distinctive sounds of frantic sobbing. And then, just below that, a fiery staccato that was heartbreakingly familiar, the fast beat of a song that went beyond lyrics, one that would force him from the deepest of sleeps flared up. Even if fifty years had passed instead of only one, he would know it better than his own heartbeat.
The thought that someone was playing a cruel joke briefly crossed his mind before he pushed it aside as he moved for and into the bathroom. Minty green cloth, much like the scrubs that the coroner’s assistant had been wearing, lay in a heap by the sliding glass door. Which was open. And showed a naked, wet woman curled in on herself, rocking in the steaming spray, brown hair following the path of water that streamed onto her shoulders. In a blink, he was kneeling in front of her, deflecting most of the alarmingly hot water. Almost reverently, he rested his hands on her quaking shoulders. “Lois?”
The sound of her name was like a current arching through her body, and she jerked her head up as she stiffened beneath his hands. Her eyes were bloodshot, surrounded by the same dark shadows that had haunted his vision since he’d had to identify her corpse earlier that day, and he wondered how it was possible for his heart to shatter all over again at the sight of her. “Lois?” He repeated, voice raspy and thick.
“Why can’t I get warm?” She begged, fingers reaching out to claw at his forearms, and he tried to ignore the part of his mind that whispered the reminder that the water and his hands were all she wore.
“I don’t know,” Clark mumbled dumbly as he did the only thing that his brain could think of doing at the moment. He pulled her firmly against him, wrapping her shivering body against his chest and pressed his lips against her shoulder blade.
She gasped as she came in contact with his skin, burrowing herself deeper into his arms. Clark could no more suppress the flinch at the icy coldness still lingering in her flesh than he could the stinging behind his eyes as she trembled violently.
Lois began to mumble, chanting something over and over under her breath, and even with his enhanced hearing he had to strain to hear her over the cascading water around them. “I don’t care. I don’t care if you’re not real. I don’t care.”
Clark’s breath hitched in his chest. What’s happened to you? “I’m here Lois, it’s me. You’re home, you’re safe.” He ran his hands soothingly where he could reach as he continued to speak nonsense to her.
The water began to cool, but he didn’t notice until she started squirming against him to get closer. Carefully, he lifted her up and, after shutting off the water, had her at the bed in seconds. He started to let her go so that he could get her dried off, but she clung to his neck. “Don’t leave me.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.” When she still wouldn’t let go, he settled for using his heat vision to dry them both off where he could. Then, after pulling down the covers, Clark settled them both in. As soon as the blankets were pulled back up, she burrowed her face close to his, sighing his name as she entwined her limbs with his until he wasn’t sure anyone would be able to guess where he ended and she began.
It wasn’t until a few minutes later, after her breath had evened out and she was asleep, that he realized she was no longer shaking.
***
-end Part Four
