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.
Oh, the meaty thump! It was the poor guy working in the morgue who fainted!
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.
The cold! The cold! Personally, I get cold very easily. I can feel the horrible cold penetrating right through Lois's bones, after she has been lying for hours naked on a metal tray in the freezing cold of a morgue!
Marta, as it turned out, had been a very strong woman.
Not only strong, but brave and competent. I was sad to hear that one of the few inspiring female role models from the comics was dead. *sniffle*
The behemoth of a woman, whom Lois suspected was actually the illegitimate love child of the Thing and the incredible Hulk,
I don't know who the Thing is, but it/he doesn't sound female to me. And the Incredible Hulk is definitely male. Never mind, I can imagine what the Thing might be, and I love the idea of these two musclebound behemoths having an illegitimate love child together, a little(?) girl!
but she would be damned if she was to allow She Thing the pleasure of reminding her on her faults again.
She Thing! That's so funny!
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.
So cold....
If I went back and walked into the diner, would I melt?
So cold, so lost, so without a destination or a home! So set off from and rejected by the luckier strata of humanity!
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.
I can see this Lois, almost a walking corpse, almost frozen stiff, but jerking helplessly with laughter and tears as her feet kick tremulously at the trash can.
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.
And no one helps you when you're down and out.
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.
Yep, that family pet clinched it. There's no way ever that
the Enforcer would have saved anybody's pet.
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.
Just because there's a Superman certainly doesn't have to mean there's a Clark Kent, and just because there's a Clark Kent doesn't mean he has to be
her Clark Kent (but wouldn't that be the most cruel joke of nature
ever? This Lois finds herself in a universe where Clark Kent doesn't care about Lois?).
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.
And it's raining on her, too! Oh no!!!
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.
Lois would hate herself for wishing something like that - but I can sympathize!
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.
Yep, that's what the weather feels like sometimes, up close and personal, as if it was really out to get you. And like Lara said, this is so well written.
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.
Aaahh!! The horrible weather was trying to
save her instead!
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.
Poor, poor, poor Clark. Imagine being raised to believe that you yourself are a monstrosity, and then you have to be grateful to the person who told you that you are so horrible.
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.
Yes, well, when you make yourself a god, you have the divine right to punish your lowly subjects as you please.
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 finds it amusing... yes, he
is better than his "father" because he isn't angry, at least, when starving people throw food at him. He finds it amusing. Ah, but his heart should be breaking for them.
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.
But he felt compelled to inform his "father"! And his "father" instructed him to burn the protesting people to cinders with his heat vision! And he complied! And he felt sick! And he knew it would happen again, so he would have to prepare himself by finding someplace to throw up next time!
Even in their impoverished state, he could hear families laughing together, children singing with their parents or playing with the family's hunting dog.
Yes, even here people can be happy with their families and their... hunting dogs? No pets here!
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.
There is a core in "Alex" which Luthor can't destroy.
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.
Hmmmm....
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.
So this is what happened when Lois was attacked in the ruins of Cost Mart?
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?”
Ahhh!!! I love how he reacted to her hand touching his neck - and then she called him Clark! And you left us there?
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.
Aaaahhh!!!! I
love how you write that! You didn't even mention the rain before, not in connection with Clark, and now it is there and we realize it must have been there for a long time, and suddenly the rain is turning into a shower! And we know who is making the shower!
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.
But this confused me slightly. At first I thought that Lois was singing in the shower, but then I realized that the "song" you referred to was her heartbeat. But what do you mean by "Even if fifty years had passed instead of only one"? Does Clark believe that Lois has been dead for a year? But he's acting as if he had just been told about her death. He doesn't want to go to his parents because
then he would have to tell them why he was there
He would have to tell them he was grieving because Lois was dead? But surely they would know that if Lois had been dead for a year?
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.
Oh wow, what a picture you paint of this Lois.
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'm in awe of how you are writing this, how Lois and Clark are so physically and emotionally naked, and so scarred by everything that has happened to them.
“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.
She is still so icy cold, so impervious to the scalding hot water. But nothing in the universe could be better for her than to be held by Clark.
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.
So beautiful. Lois is like a terrified, abused child, forced to resort to the comfort of her own imagination, so that she can no longer believe that good things can really happen to her. And Clark is like a loving father, almost wordlessly soothing his lost child.
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.
Oh, so incredibly beautiful! You bring tears to my eyes.
And I'd like to freeze time at that moment, when Lois is warm and safe in Clark's embrace, and she has stopped shaking.
Ann
Yay! Somehow he knows who she is. Loves that. Loves what it implies in a way - that even in a messed up reality, Lois and Clark still somehow are meant to be together and it's a force that's stronger than anything else. Yay! The optimist in me is thrilled right now. 
It makes me happy ^_^