Almost Partners (Chapter Forty-Five)

Lois was staring at her laptop. She couldn't type. She couldn't think. She was dead tired and confused and there didn't seem to be room in her head for all the things that had happened. If they could get out from under this deadline, just this... She could go home, sleep, dream...

She closed her eyes, blindly reaching for what had to be her fifth cup of coffee at Clark's dining table while he was on the phone. They decided to work here together, the Planet being so noisy and her place unlivable. Mostly because Bart and Linda were still settled there and were bonding over food and interrogation tactics. Linda was still giving Ollie a nice long break. But Lois suspected that it was more about Linda's reluctance to spill her news than any lingering resentment to Ollie.

Ollie had been a sport through this long day, maybe because of the guilt. When Lois and Clark said they didn't want to go back there, he'd hired men to get Lois and Clark's things from the house, even to return all of Perry's junk to his own garage. Perry didn't exactly consider it a favor. He'd bought a boat and "where the hell was he supposed to put all this junk?" Lois had decided not to point out it was his own junk and instead said she and Clark were very busy with the story just to get off the phone.

What they were very busy with was staring at their laptops and trying to figure out just where to begin. When Clark sat back down, he seemed to pick that up just where he left off.

"What kind of progress has Murray made?" she asked, yawning.

"Hair samples," Clark grunted.

She ran a hand over her eyes. "Could you... clarify, maybe?"

"He took hair samples from all of them. Trace amounts of the chemicals were showing up in their blood, but he could get more info from hair samples. Allen Kern seems to have the highest concentration of the stuff, followed by Joanne, but... she seems more lucid, whereas he..."

Lois nodded. "Yeah. I saw. But what does Murray think he can do for them?"

"He's starting slow. The tapes are all intact and the police are allowing him to study them. He's been working on Allen, but with no real progress. He's afraid that they have been programmed to respond only to Albright. He's not desperate enough to use what chemicals Albright did. He's seeing if he can splice something together from her tapes, some way to undo what she did to Allen, combined with his own concoction."

"And the others?

"He thinks if he can get them relaxed and open to suggestion, then they can unlock whatever it is Albright was hiding. But there's consent involved. Jennifer Kern has already consented, with the shape her husband's in." Clark took a deep breath and leaned back. "Which is pretty much the shape the doctor and her men are in, though the authorities aren't sure where they want to go with that. Morgan's on the fence. Joanne's affected, but to a lesser extent. She seems aware of her surroundings, but her verbal skills are limited. If Allen is helped, that might sway her. And the rest... They're not sure they want to know."

Lois was silent and Clark glanced at her. "I'm trying to figure out if I blame them. I almost wish I could forget. Those... jars."

Clark shook his head. "I'm not sure what's worse, that they did it or that they saved all the..."

Lois leaned over the table. "Clark, just tell me... What were they doing with your blood?"

"Making more." He looked disgusted and pushed his coffee away. "Of me, apparently. The way Helen talked about it, it was a second coming. Perfectly human and perfectly divine." He looked down in disgust. "She said something like that. She was using electricity, combined with the meteor rocks in the spores to... enhance them while still in the womb, using my blood."

"Oh, God."

"It's happened before. When I was young, there was an accident and someone gained my... But, see, it was all wrong. The human body can't handle it and... There were others before the couples. They were unsuccessful at first, but the PCOS provided some protection for the... mothers. But it wasn't enough for the children. None of them survived."

She shuddered. It was all a little hard to take in. "Then why would they move on to the couples? It seems so high-risk."

"That's what I can't figure out. This backer... whoever was providing them their funds... Helen seemed to say that they insisted on it." He straightened and stared at his screen again. "If we can find this backer... It all comes back to Thorul industries, but... from what Victor's dug up, some of the deeds and purchases go back to when Luthor was in the hospital. How could he have..."

"He couldn't have. I've told you."

Clark stared hard at her. "All the same, I wish you'd..." He stopped.

Lois waited for him to finish. Because someone had to. Someone had to finish a sentence around her just once. There was a beep from her computer and she turned to it, clicking on her mail icon. "It's Jimmy," she said, her jaw tense. "He says he has old photos, wedding announcements from news archives, some from out of town... We have enough in your original notes to fill in the rest, just profiles, really." Soon, Clark... If they could just get this done, then soon...

"So that's all we need for tomorrow." Clark nodded. "But we're going to have to outline the project for the next day. I don't know if we can get interviews until everyone's decided on Murray's treatment one way or another."

"So I was wrong. This is the hardest part."

Clark looked up. "What is?"

"Deciding how much to tell. If I didn't know what I know, I'd tell it all."

He stared at her. "I... don't like this either. I don't want to force you to lie for me ag... I don't like it."

She stood, moving to the coffee pot. Her cup was still half-full, but she topped it off. "Who's lying? I mean... I don't know. We still have enough to know they were doing something pretty nasty and... does it really matter with what substance?" She took a breath and turned to him. "It's fine, really. I just... It's harder, knowing what you are and what you do and..." She leaned on the counter and tilted her head. "Or used to do."

He stood suddenly. "I should get us some more creamer. I think we're almost..."

"Clark, what happened to you in there? Why can't you..."

"Lois, I can't think about it." He closed his eyes. "Not now. Not until I know for sure if it's..." He moved to her and stood before her, lifting his arms, then dropping them. "If we can just get through this, then..."

"Yeah. Got it." She brushed past him and moved back to her chair. She couldn't be mad, not when she'd been thinking the same thing. There was never a good time for truth, really. Yet she still needed it the way she needed to breathe. She needed to know what was wrong with him. And she needed to know why she needed to know, why this new acquaintance was... not so new. In bits and pieces, she saw it, she felt it... And yet there was still so much to do. If they got through this, then there was no reason not to... "We should write this up. I can take the Kerns and Terrys and you can take the Halperts and, well, the Moody-Hunters."

"And what about the DeLeons?"

"The who now?"

"Bob and Mitzi," he clarified.

"I guess I'll handle that one. But you take the interview. I think I had enough of my fan for a lifetime."

*************************

It was past midnight by now. Clark splashed water on his face in the small bathroom off his bedroom, beyond tired. It was new. He'd often felt tired, but not this bone-deep weariness. He looked at the wall, wishing he could look through, wanting to at least try to see her when she wasn't holding up this front. There was something so closed off about her right now. And he wanted to... He wished he could open up, wondered if she'd follow suit.

He was worried. There was a part of him that didn't want to face that worry. He had no idea if Victor was right. Could the fortress be restored? If it was, would he be restored to all he was? A day and part of a night had gone by and he still felt so... human. Yet some power lingered. He could hear sometimes... He could hear someone crying out and he wanted to go, yet he couldn't. Would this be the rest of his life? Hearing a voice cry out in the darkness and knowing he was powerless to help?

Powerless?

She seemed to want to talk about it. He couldn't. He could hardly process it. He thought of all the times he'd cursed what he was, what he could do. He thought of all the times he would have traded it all for a normal life, but now... What was normal? For him, normal had never been an option. He wasn't sure he wanted it to be, not anymore.

He moved back to the living room. They'd already sent their copy to Perry, at least for the first story. Maybe she would want to get started on the second part, the hard part. Maybe it was better to just jump right in. He knew he'd rather fall into the work than spend another second thinking about...

He stopped, staring at his couch. She was sprawled on it, sleeping, even snoring a little.

He found himself smiling. How many times had she been sprawled on that same couch? Whether it was running down what they should be doing to save the world... again. Or whether it was just this -- exhausted slumber.

He took the blanket from the back and spread it over her. He was glad she was getting some rest. He wished he could.

His skin was crawling. He couldn't relax, not until he knew...

He moved to his phone and dialed the Tower. He couldn't rest, not now... He had to know...

****************************

Lois sat up on the faded red couch and stared around her. It wasn't Clark's dingy apartment. It wasn't dingy at all. It was filled with sunlight and...

She heard distant sounds, somewhere below, it sounded like... mooing?

"So... You finally showed up."

Lois turned to the voice. "It's you."

"It's you," the blonde girl echoed. She turned, a pensive look on her face and leaned against a wooden railing.

"Where are we?"

"Can't tell?" the blonde girl asked, still not turning.

Lois looked around. She saw hay bales on the side, the noises that seemed like... "A barn?" But she saw a table now, a desk... "That can't be right. Who keeps a desk in a barn?"

The girl shook her head, still turned away. "Only one person I know." She sighed heavily. "I don't know what to do with them."

Lois came up behind her, staring past her to the large, open doors below. There were boxes stacked at the door, but only bright light beyond. Lois moved to the stairs, drawn to them.

"I can't open them," the girl said sadly. "I'm not allowed."

Lois moved toward the boxes, entranced. "Am I?"

"Only you know that."

"I..." She stared at the boxes. "I want to be allowed."

Lois crept toward the boxes slowly, as if they'd disappear. It seemed like they might. She leapt, grabbing one, tearing at it. Her hands sunk in and it... was empty.

"No." She grabbed for another, but it was the same.

"No use, I guess. He took it."

Lois turned, stared up at the girl. "Who took it?"

She shrugged "Magic man. He can do that, you know."

Lois climbed the stairs, finally taking the girl by the shoulders. "What did he take?"

"What you gave him," the girl answered, unfazed. "You can't have it. Not while it's his. You can only take what you can."

Lois shook her, even as the world shook around them. "I need something. I need..."

The girl smiled sadly, resting her head against Lois'. "You can take me," she whispered. "I'm yours. You know I am. I'm..."

"You," Lois breathed, the word leaving her at a gasp as she sat up.

It was dark around her. It was still dark outside. She stood, feeling a blanket fall around her feet. She must have fallen asleep. looked towards the table. Only the stove light was on, but their laptops were still out, covered with cofee-stained notes. Clark must have fallen asleep, too.

"Clark?"

She moved toward the bedroom, her head still spinning. She felt drunk. She felt woozy. She felt... alone.

She flipped on the light. He wasn't there.

She pursed her lips, feeling suddenly angry. He'd just left. As if it was okay to leave someone alone in his apartment.

Alone.

In the dark.

But she wasn't alone, was she? I'm yours. You know I am. I'm... you. There were fucking two of her.

She gathered her things quickly, leaving the coffee cups and wrappers for him. She swept some notes to the floor and kicked at them. It didn't make it better. She left.

As she drove across town, she knew that it wasn't that he'd left her now. It was that he knew. He knew all along and every conversation, every moment seemed tainted somehow. And she couldn't... do anything. Say anything. Because there was a story. There was a job. But soon...

She crept into her apartment, passing Bart snoring and half-off the couch.

She stared down at him. He knew. He knew, too. They all did. How could they not?

There were only moments, only flashes, only tiny pieces that wouldn't click. Too much gone. Too much she could never have back. Did she want it back? It was hard enough being Lois. Add another person to the mix and it would get a little crowded in her suits.

She let out a mad laugh and Bart mumbled something. She covered her mouth, letting only squeaks through her fingers.

Here she'd thought she was only insane.

But wasn't she still? She had a God damned split personality. Her laughter turned into choking sobs and she backed away from the couch, hitting her bedroom door.

She turned to it, pushed it open, still covering her mouth in the dim light. She saw Linda, sprawled out on her side, holding her belly.

Linda knew. Her own family... or was she? No. She was. But not Linda... She leaned against the doorway and closed her eyes, letting her hand fall away as tears coursed silently down her cheeks. That wasn't always her name. She almost knew it, could almost hear it...

"Lois?"

Lois opened her eyes, saw Linda sitting up, staring at her blearily.

"Wha's the matter?"

Lois closed her eyes again. She couldn't look at her, she wasn't sure she could look at any of them again.

"Hey. Hey, hey, hey." She heard rustling, then jumped slightly at a hand on her arm. "I know. It's been a hard day. It's over now. Come on."

She kept her eyes closed even as tears leaked through. She let herself be pulled to the bed, pushed inward. Let arms encircle her and hands rub her back.

"It's okay. It's over."

No, it's not. She felt herself drifting even as her own cries rang out in her ears. It's just the beginning.

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Continued in... Almost Whole