How We Got Here (Part Two)

December 21st, 2011

Some wife she was, he thought as he hovered over the city. They didn't even get to the honeymoon until last night, if you could call it a honeymoon -- a frantic f*ck against a wall, a staircase, and a bed that they only reached when they were passed out. It was a consummation, at the least... and at the most. And of a marriage that happened over a year and a half before.

Chloe Sullivan married Clark Kent on June 2nd, 2010. She did it. He didn't... or he did, but not fully aware of what it meant. But she knew. She orchestrated the whole thing down to the red shirt, the hairdo out of their high school yearbooks, and two bottles, one for him and one for her, hers probably filled with weak tea or colored water. He hadn't thought to take a whiff at the time. He was too stressed, too worried that it was all crashing down on him, and a little surprised at the notion that he could, indeed, get drunk if the percentage of alcohol was just right.

And it was. And he did. The night was a haze of booze, the sort of manic laughter of two people reliving the good times on the cusp of having their lives destroyed, and warm, soft curves that danced just out of reach as she giggled about her brilliant idea.

When he came to, there was a ring on is finger and Chloe sitting stiffly in a chair by the garish red bed he woke up in, saying she'd fixed it, that it was all for him...

September 20th, 2009

I've given up so much for you, Clark. This is the only thing I've ever asked from you. Please... Please do this for me... Please save Jimmy.

Clark sped toward the Watchtower, the few conversations they'd had since he'd been back echoing in his head. He'd been doing well. He'd been keeping his distance from her. They'd only spoken a handful of times, but she sure knew how to make it count, make it echo inside him, make it tear him up, make him wish he could change destiny to give her what she wanted.

Whose destiny? Not Jimmy's! You and I both know that. He didn't deserve to die, Clark. He died because you and I screwed up, because we made a mistake. Now you have to fix it!

And he wouldn't. He wouldn't mess with fate again, wouldn't do the one thing she asked. He'd even been angry that she asked, not just knowing what she knew about his father, but that she would seek him out for this after, when they last met on the roof of The Planet, she'd been so quick to give him up.

I was lucky to be a part of your life for a little while, but we both knew that you'd have to move on one day.

There was a finality to what she said and he was so ready to accept that, then she had to reappear, just as he buried the mysterious assassin from the future, had to ask him to change destiny for her. She brushed him aside like a toy from the past, then asked him to save Jimmy, as if it was the only thing she'd ever want from him, as if she'd leave him alone after that. But wasn't that what he wanted? To be left alone?

Whether he wanted it or not, she was. She seemed to be keeping her distance, too. How many times, after an absence of only days had she thrown herself against him, holding him so tight he wondered if her strength rivaled his in that moment. Not now.

It's good that you're embracing your Kryptonian side, she'd said stiffly. There isn't really anything human left in you.

Yet it seemed the same with her, at least with him. She was cold with him, but that was good. That was a good thing. It was best for both of them. It was best they kept away from each other... until now.

Lois was kidnapped and it was his fault and Chloe... Well, she was forcing him to utter the words he said he wouldn't say again. "I need your help." And he hated it, hated that he needed her still. Hated that she strode past him to her precious monitors, not even a touch on the arm, not even the tiniest reassurance that everything would be okay, that he hadn't f*cked up irrevocably.

But that was good. That was how it should be now. Just this last time, he'd accept her help. Then he could move on.

"The guy's name is John Corben, and he works at the Daily Planet," he said, keeping his tone brusque. "I haven't been able to find him anywhere."

Chloe tapped away, hardly glancing at him. "Clark, I wish you had come to me with this. Lois doesn't have any experience dealing with these things." It was a slightly gentler way of saying what she had earlier that day.

Quit backpedalling, Clark. Commit to what you started before more people get hurt.

So maybe she was right. He'd ****ed up. And all for something easy.

"Things have been easy with Lois lately. Talking to her just felt right."

She should understand that weakness. Hadn't she once had something easy, something normal? The loss of that easy, normal life made her cold to him now.

Lois was easy, if you didn't count the hazard of her getting herself kidnapped. Maybe she didn't have Chloe's experience and caution when investigating, but she also didn't blame him, didn't demand things of him. She looked up to him almost like Chloe... used to. Not anymore.

Nevertheless, she got him what he needed.

"Thanks, Chloe," he said, ready to rush out before those stupid, useless, nostalgic feelings could take over again.

This was good. The way they were now was good. The way it should be. The way it should have been all along. No hugging, no touching, no grasping her as if she was the only thing he could depend on. It was better this way. It was...

"Wait, Clark!"

He stopped before her.

"Be careful," she said, her voice just a little breathless.

He stood there for just a second, wondering if she'd touch him, but she didn't. And that was the way they would be now. That was good.

December 21st, 2011

It was good. It was definitely a good thing there was no crime going on in the city he hovered over. It was definitely not pissing him off on the one night he could have used someone to rough up, knock out cold with a well placed push or the toss of whatever was lying around. He was glad those that crawled along the seedy underbelly of Metropolis were running scared these days. It wasn't like he wanted the distraction.

Except for how he did.

He looked east, thinking he should get home to his... wife. Or the hopeful lack of her. Maybe she'd left by now, left with her scent and the papers she waved in his face and the demands she'd thrown at him, that he fix it, fix the life she claimed he'd destroyed. Left him alone.

But why should she? Tha voice asked, that voice that sounded remarkably like hers. Did you leave her alone? Didn't you show up, waving papers of your own as she attempted to marry another man?

But that was different. He couldn't just let it happen. Couldn't let her dupe some fool into a union with a woman who didn't exist. It was for that man he did it. Not for her. He didn't want her.

September 21st, 2009

He didn't want to be here.

He'd told her to sell the place, even, just get rid of it. He didn't know why he'd shown up here again, why he was waiting for her, but he was. Maybe it was just to say goodbye again, tell her he was done asking for her help. He was done entangling her in his life, his f*ck-ups. Then he heard her...

"Lois, I'm just glad you're okay," she said from above him. It was so quiet, he thought she must not be here. "I'm coming home right now. Okay. I'll see you soon." He felt her behind him. "Clark."

"This view really puts things in perspective. Jimmy knew exactly what he was doing when he bought this place," he added, reinforcing the sweet idea of Jimmy, wondering if it would take away the sting of all the things he couldn't and wouldn't do for her.

She moved to stand next to him and it felt... almost like forgiveness for what he couldn't do. "I really miss him," she said softly.

Clark turned to her, thinking of Lois, thinking of easier things. "I took the easy way out, Chloe," he said, his eyes turning to the stained glass again. He thought confiding in Lois the way he used to in Chloe was easier. And it seemed that way. She damned near worshiped his hero persona. But she nearly got killed.

It hard been the hardest thing he'd done, going to Chloe for help for what he told himself was the last time. But he was kidding himself. He needed her. And for more than help. He just... needed her. But maybe it was too late. "I should have been there when you needed me," he said, thinking that maybe she needed him as much. "I'm sorry." He should have been talking to her, asking her help. telling her how hard it was to let go of her, of the things that made him feel human. He'd tell her everything right now if she wanted him to.

"Clark, there's nothing easy about burying everyone you love in your past."

Everyone you love...

He stared at her, wondering if she knew somehow. It was like a half-formed thought, even to him, but maybe she sensed it in him, how hard it was to stay away from her. "I'm afraid I haven't even done a very good job of that." Here he was, still drawn to her, no matter how they screwed it all up. He moved away, just to see if he could. "Maybe I'm trying to fill the void by hanging out on rooftops, eavesdropping on people -- people who are connecting.. and living. Thinking, what's the point of protecting life... if you've lost your sense on how to live it?" His feet stopped, unable to move more than a dozen feet away from her. "Maybe I can't do this, Chloe. Maybe I can't completely stay away." He kept his back to her, wondering if this admittance would make her open up, invite him back. Maybe they had screwed up in so many ways, but maybe they could be what they once were if she'd just make some move to him.

"Stay away from her, you mean."

He turned, squinting. Her?

"Lois means something to you," she said with a slight shrug, not moving toward him in the slightest. "Something more."

He blinked at her, wondering if she really thought that this was about Lois.

"So, does this mean that Clark Kent is coming back for an encore?" she said, her voice sounding almost light.

"I don't know," he said after a moment, unable to match her tone. If that was what she thought, then maybe he should be thinking it, too. Maybe he could have that easy life. Chloe had it once. With Jimmy. He remembered Lois' face, so sincere as she told him what his phone calls meant to her, begged him to let her see his face. He didn't do it. He screwed that up with Jimmy, letting him in, asking his help. He wouldn't do that with Lois. She could never know. But maybe... Maybe he could have that life, that easy life on the side. Like Chloe had for three years. Hadn't she been happy, having that other life? Maybe he could be happy, could have that... "But I can't let that life interfere with my training," he said briskly, not so ready to let her toss him away and at Lois. He could be alone. He didn't need her to throw him her cousin like a bone.

"Clark, lurking around building edges at midnight, pining after the life you gave up isn't exactly amping your hero performance, either." She moved toward him, then. "You know... ...maybe I was naive to think that you just turn a corner and never look back. But either way, Kal-El needs his human disguise now more than ever." His human disguise. Often, Chloe had been that, covering for him, hiding his truths.

Clark stared at her. "Why do you say that?" he asked carefully, not wanting to think she meant anything by it, that everything they were to each other could still be there.

"Went to the Daily Planet to look at Lois' computer," Chloe said, moving past him, "and found that Tess had loaded it up with serious spyware."

"You mean, she didn't rehire Lois of the goodness of her heart?" he asked, trying to keep his voice brisk. He hadn't said too much, then. Good.

"She wanted to find out where Lois has been the last three weeks. Now, if she figures out..."

"She was in the future," he said, finishing her thought without hesitation. At least that wasn't gone between them, "and brought back a Kryptonian who says I'll end the world..."

"Tess already knows way too much about you," she said, answering him as easily. "We can't let her get to Lois' memories before you do."

We. We can't. She said that as if there really was a we to them these days. He thought of what she said, nonetheless. Not just about what she said about Lois' memories, but about what she implied about Lois meaning something more. She'd had something more with Jimmy. Something more than saving the world. Something sweet and normal and easy. Why couldn't he have that? Really, why not?

He moved into the Daily Planet's bullpen the next morning. He'd already spoken to Tess, knowing that she'd have been him back before he even said it. She wanted him around, wanted to keep an eye on him. The feeling was mutual. He also needed to keep an eye on Lois, make sure he knew what she saw, knew what the future held. But that didn't have to be all.

He moved in, found her staring at his nameplate. She wanted him. He knew it last year and he'd squandered it. Not now.

"I'm going to be needing that," he said, announcing himself.

She turned. Then stood and then... "Clark Kent. You're back." She threw herself at him like Chloe used to. "I was beginning to think your family lived on some distant planet."

"You must have really missed me," he said, smiling, thinking that one member of that family knew how to greet him after an absence. This could work.

She pulled back, making excuses he could see through. It reminded him of Chloe in the old days, before she knew, hiding every feeling. But he'd do it right this time. He'd accept her presence, her affection, he'd make her everything Chloe might have... No. She wasn't Chloe and she wouldn't be. She'd be something more. Something extra. Something to drown in when his life became too hard. Something easy.

"Missed you, too, Lois," he said, moving past her to his desk. "Anything exciting happen when I was gone?"

He listened to her prattle on about helping the Blur, moving to sit on his desk, amping up her role in the events. But that was just her. He decided to find it endearing, decided to get this right in every way. Righter than Chloe had with Jimmy. He wouldn't let her into his world, but he'd let her be there on the edge of it. He wouldn't defer to Chloe as Chloe had with him. He'd make sure Lois was number one in his off hours. He stared at her, thinking how sunny and uncomplicated she seemed in this dark world, thought that was what Chloe saw in Jimmy. He thought of coffee dates he'd make and maybe dinner dates in the future. He just had to find his opening, be what she needed as she'd be just what he wanted...

December 21st, 2011

This wasn't what he wanted to find. He wanted to come home to find her gone. She said she would be. Instead he came home to noise from inside, groans and curses and mild crashes that told him she was there, wrecking his house even further.

"Give it another try," he sneered from the doorway as she overturned an end table. "You might be able to break it."

She stilled. "I'm not trying to break it." Chloe turned to him on her hands and knees, blowing a rather dusty chunk of red hair out of her eyes. "I'm trying to find my purse." She pulled herself to a standing position, using his father's easy chair. It wobbled and she stilled it as she stood, staring at it, dusting it off on top, which seemed rather silly as the seat was covered in plaster dust and chunks of ceiling. "Listen, I'm sorry for... what damage I did." She stared rather pointedly at the railing, then a few holes in the floor.

He looked down, knowing he had his part in this crumbling mess. But she started it when she burst into his room and started throwing anything breakable at his head. His x-ray vision kicked in, without even telling it to, running over the holes in the floor, even in the carpet. His own doing, those.

"I do have some money," she said. His gaze snapped up to her again. "I can write you a check for the damages if I can find my purse." She lifted her chin, as if that statement made her very grown up and responsible. The image was kind of ruined by her swimming in his T-shirt as his sweatpants slipped down her legs. She gripped at the waistband with a growl as it slid to her knees. "Look, none of this would have happened if you just signed the damned papers. I found them." She nodded at his dining room table, still miraculously intact in all this. He looked at the floorboards below, at the holes in them, saw her purse just below one hole without even trying. "If you'd just sign them, I can find my purse and my checkbook and my passport and get out of your life."

He stared back at her, at her dyed hair and her stubborn chin and the hands that gripped his pants and his shirt, trying to keep her body covered and realized... "I don't..."

"Listen, I talked to Allan. He's flying out to Kansas. He should be here by tomorrow. I told him I'd meet him at the airport if I could just find my damned..."

"Like I have any idea where it is," he cut in, determined not to tell her now, not with her throwing that name around. Allan. As in Do you, Allan take this woman to be your... He didn't hear the rest. He'd made his presence known then, whether he missed the part about objections or whatever the hell they said or not. He just knew he couldn't let it go on. "Why is Allan," he tried not to sneer the name, "flying out here?"

"He wants the three of us to sit down and sort this," she said. The phrase sounded a bit British, as if she'd picked up a few things beside this Allan there. "I've explained... well... almost everything. He thinks he can get past this and I do, too." She stared at him, her gaze going from mutinous to pleading so quickly he wondered it didn't leave a mark. "Clark, just sign them. Just help me fix this. You owe me this."

He let out a breath, saw her pleading gaze in his barn as she asked him to fix it, save Jimmy's life. He couldn't give her what she wanted then and he couldn't do it now.

"I need to... go," he finished lamely, speeding from the porch. The crash of the screen door echoed behind him as he flew. Not to the city. There was nothing to distract him there. He flew north...

PART ONE

PART THREE