Clark sat in her chair in a place surrounded by her things. He wished he could leave, but he couldn't bring himself to move. He glanced around, noting the difference between who she was and who she had become. The apartment she'd shared with Lois (or Linda, as his mother had said), along with her dorm room at Met U, had been colorful and full of clippings on the wall. The place was only half-furnished, but he could tell she was being deliberate with what she chose.
The couch was antique with wooden legs and wood bordering the arms. The Queen Anne style coffee table, the hard wood floors under the Oriental throw, the dark roll-top desk... It was all classic and sleek, like the clothes she wore now, like the dark hair she swept to the side, only letting small curls touch her ends. She wasn't that kid anymore. She was a woman, a professional, stylish woman. She petrified him now.
It was easy to see Chloe as that girl that would always be there. He missed that girl. She'd have forgiven him anything. And it was his own abuse of that quality that had turned her into Lois. She'd changed in more than name. Her intelligence was still scary, but her attitude was harder. If she'd been this woman all along, he could never have had her in the ways he had. She would have laughed in his face. It was only that soft girl inside her that kept her from doing so now.
He stood and went the door, remembering to lock it as she'd asked him to. When it clicked home, he felt somehow that it was final. She wouldn't let him in again.
In an alleyway at the side, he rose up, making sure no one could see. He flew east, keeping over the clouds, feeling their moisture touch his clothes, trying to let the warm spring air comfort him.
When he touched ground at home, his mother was on the porch, hammering up a wind chime. "Hi, Honey. Just got this in the mail from Linda and Ollie." She touched the metal pipes and glass beads. "Isn't it beautiful?"
He didn't look. He looked at her hands, then her face. It seemed older than before and the grey she'd stopped dying out now framed that face. But her eyes... They were the same blue that had always comforted him. "Beautiful," he agreed.
She smiled at him and he suddenly felt that he wasn't alone, he still had his mother. Even the worst people in the world still had their mother's love. "Are you all right, Clark?"
He wanted to say he was fine, then run off to the barn. But what would he do there? There was no longer farm work. "I'm uh... not okay, Mom."
She stepped up and put her hand on his arm. "Do you want to talk?"
He nodded and let her steer him inside. At the table, she waited silently, her face open. He took a shaky breath. "I don't know where to start..."
*******************************
Lois stepped off the elevator, but didn't barrel past the receptionist this time. "I need to see Doctor Grady.., Please," she added.
The woman was not softened up. "I'll see if he's available." She got up, but the doctor came out.
"I can see Miss Lane, Theresa." Lois followed him into the office, trying a smile at the woman. She returned it, but coldly. Lois had the feeling the hardness inside her had started leaking into all interactions. She'd need to change that. She stared at the doctor as he took the chair near the sofa. Was therapy the answer?
"I... haven't decided," Grady said. "I still don't know that I could keep a man in a mental institution when somebody with his power and money... Well, he could do great things if he was just a better person."
"But he's not," Lois said softly, taking the couch.
"But once, he could have been," Grady sighed. "His family life, events that transpired... Some I've seen in you... They all combined to make him the person he is. It makes me sad. He could have been so much more."
She shook her head. "Kevin," she tried softly. "The bottom line is that lives are in danger. He knows Clark Kent's secret. He knows I'm alive. He knows how to hurt both of us. That knowledge is not just recent. It's been building for nearly eight years. And he has a wife."
He narrowed his eyes. "The one he was accused of killing?"
She sighed. "Does doctor-patient confidentiality apply here?"
He nodded. "I wouldn't breathe a word."
"Lana Lang is alive. She made a new life for herself. If he finds her, she'll be dead, too."
"But he wasn't always this way," Grady said quickly. "He helped you once."
"Even then, it was only to bring down his father. Lex has never done anything that wasn't purely selfish in the end."
"I... I can't see it the way you do. Your bitterness, it clouds things." He stared hard at her. "Are you sure you don't want me to help you?"
"Yes," she lied. "I'm fine."
He sighed. "I'll promise you one thing - whatever I decide, it will be for the best. You have to trust me."
"Crazily, I do. And you're a man, too. You should be flattered."
He smiled.
"Wait... Eve Tessmacher. She knows everything Lex does and more. She was his personal assistant. She still is."
He nodded. "I've seen her. We've had two preliminary sessions. Just a few minutes. His lawyers seem to think I'm the right choice. The prosecution also agrees. I haven't been left alone with Luthor. That will happen Friday."
"Kevin, I'm very nearly happy in my new life. And Clark Kent... If he's taken down, this city can never benefit from the things he can do. You've seen them with your own eyes."
"I know." He stood. "I'm still thinking, but you have to trust me. I just want everyone to be happy."
She nodded and stood as well. "I know you do. And... even if that desire for happiness goes for Lex as well, I still trust you."
He took her hand. "I wish you'd trust me to help you."
"The truth, Kevin. The truth to me is what happiness is to you. It's everything."
He let her hand go and led her to the door. "I'll be in touch. Please trust me."
******************************
Martha Kent massaged her temples.. "Don't ask me to feel sorry for you, Clark."
"I'm not, Mom."
She shook her head. "I'm proud of so many things about you. You can help so many and you do. But that same side of you has just skewed everything else. Clark... You have it wrong." She stood and moved to the refrigerator. She took out a bottle of wine. She uncorked it and moved toward the cabinet before shaking her head and taking a long pull from the neck. She brought it to the table with her. "I wish you'd been talking to me all along."
"Mom, how could I..."
"Years ago, we talked about your using the red kryptonite. You didn't listen to me. You kept it up. I see why you didn't tell me, though. I would have destroyed it then and to hell with you making your own decisions." She took another gulp and a deep breath.
"I just wish I could go back and erase all of it."
"Well, you can't. You just have to live with the consequences."
"Maybe I should find another city, another place where..."
"No," his mother said firmly. "I know you're nearly twenty-three, but you're obviously not an adult yet. You aren't leaving again, you aren't running away from your mess. Your father would have agreed." She stared hard at him. "You'll stay."
"And do what?"
She shrugged. "Serve this city the way Oliver serves his. In fact, you could learn a thing or two from him. Not only is he able to balance his lives, but he manages to excel in both. You're going to have to grow up, Clark. You need a job and a home and a life. If you think you can run around saving people and come home to a hot meal at your mother's... Well, I can't do that for you. I gave up enough waiting for you."
"I understand and I'm sorry, Mom."
"I don't want your apologies, Clark. I want action." She looked around her. "I'm glad to have my home. I want to stay here and pursue all those things I never had time for. I'll paint or write or garden." She sighed. "I've had an eventful life and I just want to retire. The money Lionel left me gives me that ability."
"I could still help you."
"With what, Clark? There is no farm to work. Will you sit around dusting and sweeping? Watching soap operas? Be a house hero?"
He smiled. "I don't know what I'll do." It seemed both of the women in his life didn't need him.
"You'll just have to figure that out. You have a life ahead of you. And it will be more than just stopping car wrecks and rescuing kittens from trees. You're crazy if you think you can survive in this world just saving people. You were born with these abilities, but they aren't a free ride." She stood. "You can stay until you get on your feet. I'll help you that far. But you have to build your own life."
"Alone?" He stared at his hands. "She... She doesn't want me around."
Martha came around the table and patted his head. "I love you, but I don't blame her. You'll just have to respect her wishes. Now, there's a paper in the living room. Get on those want ads."
*********************************
It was Friday morning and Perry was smoking a cigarette in the bullpen. Doris was glaring at him. "Oh, come on," he growled. "It's not a cigar. And have you even seen how much weight I've gained? I need something."
She only shrugged and smiled coldly. "It's fine. But I do need to give your wife a call. I did promise." Her hand reached for the phone, but he put his over it.
"Who signs your paychecks, Doris?"
"Herbert Greeley of Transnational Enterprises," she shot back.
He stepped back.
"Oh, give me that!" Lois came forward and took the cigarette from Perry, taking a long drag before dropping it into her half-full coffee cup. She coughed. "I didn't want coffee, anyway." What she wanted was a shot of whiskey. She was nearly twenty-three and she hadn't been properly drunk yet. That might change.
Perry paced toward one of the televisions mounted on the wall, then back toward Lois. "Olsen," he barked, making her cover her ear. "Get me some chewing tobacco."
Jimmy nodded silently and ran out, flashing Lois a nervous smile.
Perry paced back to Doris. "Happy?"
"No."
"Well, it's not fattening and it's not smoke."
"Mouth cancer," she said smugly.
He threw his hands up. "Is there one good vice left in the world?" He stared at the T.V. again. "Has Rogers called in?"
"No," Lois said, sitting down and biting her thumb nail. "Nothing must have happened yet."
He sank into the chair next to her. "Why couldn't you have gone down to Belle Reve? I want my top man, not a gossip columnist."
Was it crazy that she almost liked him calling her a man? "Rachel has great powers of observation, Perry, you really should use her more." Not to mention that Rachel had been almost pleasant to her from the moment she'd suggested it, even going so far as complimenting her shade of lipstick. Of course, there was another reason. If her worst nightmare came true and Lex was free, she didn't want to be in a fifty mile radius of him. In fact, she might end up losing her new life. Maybe Lana was running another coffee shop in Florida. Maybe she needed a waitress. She'd have to check on that.
The televisions were muted, but the images flashed nothing on Luthor. The talking heads of every network seemed to be all over Lindsay Lohan's seventh D.U.I. and subsequent stint in rehab. Didn't they know that bigger things were happening?
"Well, maybe I should pack up my desk," Perry said miserably from the chair. "If Luthor's back in power, I'm as good as a fry cook."
"Perry," Lois sighed, rubbing his shoulder. "That won't happen. Transnational owns this paper and the big guys there have always supported our work against Luthorcorp. They hate him more than you do. Your job is safe." She wished she could say the same for herself. Even her life wasn't safe.
*****************************
"I'm home," he called out, already pulling at the tie. His mother poked her head out from the dining room.
"Oh, you wore the suit. You look so nice in a suit and tie." He came in to find her doodling on a note pad. "I always wanted you and your father to take more of an effort with your clothing. But no. Nothing but flannel and jeans, the both of you."
He slumped into a chair. "I like flannel and jeans." He peeked at her note pad. "What is that?"
She smiled. "Just an idea." He saw his family's symbol, but what was around it was more surprising.
"That looks kind of tight, Mom."
"Yes, but you won't want too much fabric flapping in the wind when you fly. Except the cape." She gazed fondly at it. "That will look so nice trailing behind you."
"Me?" He shook his head. "No. I'm not wearing some get-up, Mom."
She stood up and pulled him with her, taking a piece of measuring tape from over her shoulder. "No one will hire some guy that flies around rescuing people. They'll think you're a hazard and a vigilante. Look at Ollie. Do you think he'd be mayor if people knew he was the Green Arrow? Some people don't even like the Green Arrow."
"No one will hire me now," he grumbled, lifting his arms as she wrapped the tape around his chest. "No office job for a guy with only two semesters at A&M to his credit."
"You'll find something." She doodled numbers next to her drawing. "Did you remember what we talked about?"
"Yes," he sighed. "I stayed far away from Fifth Street and Concord Lane."
"Good. I'm sure Lois has enough on her mind with Luthor's evaluation today."
He let her measure down his arm. "What do I do if he's out?"
"You worry about that when it happens... if it happens." She looked at his face, tilting her head. "I actually like the glasses. They lend an air of intelligence. Make you more than a pretty face."
"Mom, come on..."
She put the tape around his hips. "I think the main reason people don't trust Ollie is the mask. You can't trust someone when you can't look in their eyes." She doodled some numbers again, then straightened. She smiled and took the glasses off, pushing his hair away from his face. "There's my hero." She put the glasses back on him and ruffled the hair in front of his eyes. "And there's my little business man."
He batted her hand away. "You're crazy."
"Could you listen to your mother for once?"
"Besides, I can't be even a little business man. I'd be lucky to get hired as a janitor with my qualifications." He slumped his shoulders. "What about farm work? I can do that, at least."
She shook her head and pulled his shoulders up again. "No good. There's hardly any crime in Smallville compared to the city. You need to be where you're needed."
When she bent to measure his inseam, he stepped back. "Mom!"
She put her hands on her hips. "Clark, I'm your mother. I'm allowed to get close to your fly."
"It's embarrassing."
"Fine." She picked up her pad and moved towards the living room. "I have what I need. Besides, we'll get something stretchy. Spandex or..."
"What? No." He followed her. "Oliie has leather. Leather's at least... kinda cool."
She sat on the couch and picked up the phone book. "Ollie can afford leather. Ollie probably has twenty spare suits. He needs them. So will you. You don't even have a job yet. Do you think you'll be able to afford twenty leather suits?" She opened the book and turned the pages. "Fabric, fabric," she muttered.
He shrugged and looked down. "No. But spandex, Mom... It's just so..."
"Convenient," she finished with a smile, snapping the phone book closed. She grabbed her purse and keys from the coffee table.
"Okay. Wait..." Clark stepped in front of her, blocking the door. "Can it at least be black?"
She rolled her eyes. "You think anyone's going to trust you in black? I'm the one making the effort here and you'll wear what I make you." She pushed him out of the way. "Now put your tie back on and get back to the city. There's a whole day of job-hunting left."
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