Clark woke up alone. He focused his keener than keen hearing on the sounds of the house to isolate the unmistakable calling card of her presence. Her heart beat. It was racing. And it was accompanied by sounds of fear.
He found her immediately with his vision and saw that she was safe from anything alive and tangible – her demons were in her head.
It had happened before, and the first time he had actually rushed to the scene, faster than the eye could see, flinging open a door with force too rough to keep it on its hinges. And Lois had cried out, jerking back in terror in her huddled heap on the floor in the laundry room, a place that he was more familiar with than she, as guilt from her captivity had led him to take on as many of the menial chores as he could.
He had backed away, she had eventually calmed and both had been awkward and apologetic – she for reacting that way, and he for being so violent in his reaction.
So now he looked in through closed doors. Realizing that even that was something worth apologizing for, but understanding it was the lesser of two evils. Violate her privacy, or scare the crap out of her.
This happened more and more now, and he was beginning to get a horrified feeling that her ability to be around him had been a momentary lapse of horror for her. Had she been too broken in that world to ever truly be with him?
Remembering his laughing beautiful bride, it brought tears to his eyes.
He learned not to go find her. Even a gentle inquiry into her well being would only hurt her more in the end, because she would remember later, when the fear had receded and Lord Kal had morphed back into Clark that the man she loved had looked at her with such pain in his eyes. And that would just hurt her more.
She had been hurt enough.
So Clark got up, and guiltily went about the morning as if his wife wasn’t huddled, cringing in the laundry room. Every time he had to pretend it wasn’t happening, he wondered if he was doing the right thing. How long should he let her stay like that? She had never been able to definitively answer that question, so they both agreed silently that he would just pretend that nothing was happening.
Lana had checked her out and surmised that there was nothing that indicated psychosis or the need for any kind of drugs or hospitalization. Not that Clark would have cottoned to drugging or chaining her in any way. It would have been too much like what Kal did. So Clark just pretended like everything was normal.
He was downstairs making coffee, hoping the fumes would break through her terror and that she would survive the day, relapse-free. Sometimes they got lucky that way. Other times, he could sometimes see her fighting for normalcy under the public eye, but when he looked at her surreptitiously, she would be shaking with the effort of self-control. Those were the worst for her. Under pain of torture, she would never want to indicate to the world that her marriage was less than perfect. Not after all the anti-Kryptonian grandstanding she had done when she first returned to her home-world.
The fumes did the trick. He was at the table, drinking coffee, thinking desperately about their desperate life, when he heard her behind him. By her footsteps, she was not afraid – but awkward and nervous in her embarrassment. Embarrassment trumped fear. He could work with this.
She grabbed a cup, and joined him. He looked at her, trying to be friendly and calm. Why let her know he had known where she was?
“It happened again,” she confessed, knowing he knew. “I’m sorry. I – “
She broke off, and began to cry.
“Hey,” he replied, his voice kind, as he reached out to gently grip her hand. “I know you feel badly on my behalf, but maybe if you could shelve that, and focus on yourself – you’d feel better.”
“You’re saying I don’t hurt you,” she challenged.
“I said I knew it would be hard,” he responded back.
“I feel like I’ve forced you into servitude,” she said. “As revenge for what he did.”
He was silent. Words of protest had no use here. It hurt that he could even see their relationship as something toxic. Even if she saw herself as the villain.
“I love you,” he said calmly. “I don’t regret our marriage.”
“I’m a freaking mess, Clark,” she bit out with self loathing. “Why the hell is he always in my head now?”
Clark shook his head.
“Why now? Why is it getting worse? God, I see things in my nightmares that never even happened to me. Sometimes I see horrors and it’s like I’m seeing it from his point of view. Like Harry Potter and Voldemort,” she exhaled harshly. “I’m going crazy.”
Clark looked up at her sharply.
“You might be onto something,” he said with sudden intensity.
“What? That I’m going crazy?” Her tone was irritated due to her lack of sleep. He liked that she could be short with him even on the heels of an awful morning like this.
“The telepathic connection between you two, do you think it transcended universes?”
She stopped and looked at him unseeingly.
“Oh… my… God,” she said. “I don’t – it could be. It could! I – suppose – why not? Did you ever pick up on the other Lois’s and Clark’s thoughts?”
“No,” he said. “No. But – I think this is different. Shorter duration of time together, and telepathic communication isn’t something we shared much. With Lois, not at all and with Clark, only when he came here to help.”
“So what do we do? How do I find out if this is true? What would I do about it, even if was true? I can’t go back there and tell him to knock it off!” She shuddered at the mere mention of the idea.
“But if I could go there and overthrow his regime,” said Clark, realizing how stupid the idea was as soon as he spoke aloud.
“Clark, no,” she said, her voice a horrified emphatic sound. “No. I absolutely do not give permission for that.”
He looked at her. And she looked back. Neither broke their challenging gaze. Inwardly, he jumped for joy at her imperious commands and her steely gaze. These were things he never expected to see from her to him when they first met.
“Lois, what if it’s the only way? What if you can’t break his connection otherwise?”
She looked away.
“They’d kill you instantly, Clark. You wouldn’t last a day.”
“Nice. Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“You know I’m right. They totally outnumber you.”
“A resistance must exist. And Herb would know. I could join up with it.’
“And what… have a Kryptonian work with them? One that looks just like the man they hate?”
“Herb could vouch for me.”
“When Herb vouched for you with me it took me forever to accept that he might be right. If they had a way of stopping Kryptonians, they would use it on you. Either way, you’d be dead in a day.”
He looked down.
“Could you defend yourself against the resistance? Use any kind of force to protect yourself in a situation where you felt guilt about him being your counterpart?”
He looked down. “I don’t know. I couldn’t kill. Or maim… but – self defense – if I was being attacked with Kryptonite and couldn’t use my powers, I’m sure I could.”
“If they used Kryptonite, you’d be dead. They wouldn’t hesitate one bit. This isn’t Luthor and his stupid schemes, it would be people fighting to stay alive. We’ll find another way. Maybe some kind of serotonin suppressors.”
“No,” he said loudly, making her leap a little in fright.
“Sorry, but no Stepford Lois if this is what’s going on. If you … need these drugs because of head injuries or just an inborn imbalance, then you do what works… but if Kal is the reason you're experiencing these nightmares and flashbacks, then drugging yourself is insult on top of injuries. No drugs. Unless you really want that for yourself. The thought of losing the magic that is you because of this cretin is unbearable. Honestly, Lois, I'd rather just live apart from you than have you try to subdue who you are in order to stay in this marriage."
"Then what," she snapped at him, frustrated by his roadblocks and lack of suggestions that might actually work.
"We should try to find a way to contact Herb. Okay? That can be a first step. We don't have to commit to anything beyond that. Okay?"
She let out a hard breath.
"Okay. But I'm still completely opposed to your going to that other world. And you aren't going to go unless you can convince me otherwise. Deal?"
He looked at her with admiration.
"Yeah. Deal."
