"... fainted. Again. I can't risk that..."
"I agree that it's... concerning."
She opened her eyes. A door. Not her door. The voices were coming from outside of it.
"Concerning doesn't even begin to cover it." Clark, obviously.
If she wasn't already sure the other voice was Martha, the next sentence confirmed it. "Sweetie, you can't just put her here and expect..."
"Mom, I know you're under a lot of pressure with the election, but I need her to be..."
"It's not that," Martha cut in. Lois sat up, pushing down a colorful quilt and two afghans. "You know I don't mind her staying here. Far from it. I want her here as much as you do. But if she'd rather be home..."
"I don't want her alone. End of discussion."
She rose to her feet, staring at the door, eyes narrowing. She'd gathered she was at the Kent farm. What she wasn't on board with was staying. She had things to do. She shook herself. How did she get here, anyway? She padded to the door.
"None of us want her alone, but you can't just deposit her here and not ask her."
"I'm done asking," his voice snapped. "I'm done keeping my distance because I'm some supposed stranger. I'm through pretending. I have a say, here!"
She opened the door. "And I don't?"
Clark and Martha turned to her. Clark stared, looking mutinous... and muddy. Martha quickly moved to her.
"Lois, Honey, how are you feeling?" Martha brushed her hair back.
"I'm fine. I don't understand what I'm doing here. And I don't understand why I'm supposedly staying when..."
"You fainted," Clark said tightly. "And it wasn't the first time."
She squinted at him. "No, I... I guess I did." She shook her head. "It's all so bleary. I went to The Planet and you were there and there was this woman..."
Clark and Martha looked at each other. There was a vibe there, almost a silent conversation. Clark's stony face looked away from Martha's pleading one. "The point is that you fainted. And that's why you're here. That's why you're staying," he said firmly.
Her mouth dropped open. "Excuse me?" She stepped up to him. "Last time I checked, I was a grown-up. I think I decide..."
There was a loud ringing. "He won't stop," Clark growled and dug in the pocket of his wet and muddy slacks. He flipped his phone open. "I'm coming." He sighed and listened to what seemed to be an unending stream of words. She didn't catch them, but he knew the voice. "I just need to swing by the school first and get a few statements... Yes. I called Sawyer... She said that any information Superman gives her is part of an ongoing investigation... If intergang's a part of this or not, we have no concrete evidence..." His eyes slid to Lois. "For the last time, if she... uh... calls me, I'll tell you. And she hasn't. Just let her have a vacation... Perry, I'm pulling up to the school. I gotta go... I'll be there before four... Bye." He flipped his phone closed and ran a hand over his face.
Lois found herself smiling. "Perry's been asking about me?"
"Daily," Clark sighed. "I keep saying the same truthful lie. But he keeps on. Sometimes I think he knows."
"Possibly because you're a terrible liar. Even with truthful ones." She stepped to him. "What was that about no concrete evidence on Intergang?"
"You said you can't cite your source."
"Of course I can't, but it at least gives you clues on where to start digging. Besides, you weren't exactly surprised when I mentioned Mannheim. You have something."
"No. Superman has something. And Clark Kent has no believable way of knowing what Superman knows without it looking suspicious."
She groaned. "So... it sucks to be us right now."
"No. It sucks to be me. I'm not on vacation, so I'm the one that has to worry about..."
"I told you I was cutting it short."
"Like hell you are." He bent down and she found her feet leaving the ground. He strode through the door with her. "You took two weeks and you're finishing them. If you think you don't need it, then maybe you can think back to an hour ago when you swooned in The Planet's lobby."
"I don't know why that happened, but..."
"It doesn't even matter why it happened." He deposited her on the bed and her stomach did a slight flip as he leaned over her. "It's happened before and it'll happen again. And I'm not going to risk it happening when you're alone so you can hit your head and have a massive brain hemorrhage and nobody finds you until you're dead or..."
"Clark..."
"No. This is not something I'm letting you decide." He grasped her shoulders. "I'm not a stranger and you know it. So maybe you can accept that I get a vote."
"Like I said, I should get a damn..."
He let her go. "You know, I don't care if you accept it or not. You're here. Your car isn't. And I'm leaving." He turned to his mother. "I'll be back after work. Make sure she eats. Too damned skinny," he muttered as he moved to the door.
Martha followed him. "Clark, you're really being very high-handed and..."
She sat up. "Wait just a second!"
They stopped, turning to her. Clark was glowering. Martha was staring at her with a mixture of fear and concern.
In the end, she thought of Martha. "What about my clothes? I should be taken to get some clothes." And maybe slip away to Thrifty Rentals and...
"I'll get them," Clark said shortly.
She dug her fingers into the mattress. "Clark, I might be agreeing to stay here... for now. But your he-man act doesn't extend to rifling through my underwear, so..."
He left her sight, reappearing at the side of the bed. "Then I'll have Diana do it."
She tried to think of an argument against that, but she found herself lifted from the bed. In a blink, he was tucking the covers around her so tight, her arms were trapped at her side.
"You are going to rest," he said, his face so close to hers it blurred. "You are going to eat three meals a day, maybe more. And you are not spending another second alone."
She really wanted to be angry. She knew she should be. But she found herself staring at his lips and she wasn't angry so much as...
He was gone. She stared at the spot he'd been in, tingling strangely. Something about that he-man act...
"Well, then." Martha gave a nervous laugh.
Her eyes moved to Martha, a slightly guilty feeling settling in her as she pushed at the coverings, trying to free her arms. It was like a cocoon, he'd tucked her in so tight, acting so... masterful.
She took a deep breath and stared at the mother of the ass she was, apparently, lusting after.
Martha saw her predicament and moved toward her, pulling at the blankets. "Soup," she said on a grunt. She straightened, settling the blankets more loosely over her. "I'm in a soup mood. I froze some chicken corn chowder last week. Made it from scratch. Very creamy."
"Sounds fattening," Lois observed.
Martha squeezed her arm, frowning down at it. "I don't think that's such a bad thing right now." She straightened, smiling. "Why don't I heat some up?"
********************************
Clark sped away from the school, still in his fairly ruined civvies. He'd told Principal Watts he'd stepped in a puddle.
"Looks more like a swamp," the man had said, chuckling, before Clark settled him down enough for an interview. He was slightly loopy, nearly star-struck, it seemed. "Did I tell you he's speaking at an assembly? Superman is going to talk to my kids about safety," the man had said, preening slightly.
Clark wished he hadn't reminded him. He'd never been much for speeches. He'd dreaded them throughout school. He wondered if anyone would think less of Superman if he used index cards?
Still, he had something out of this. Nobody else was reporting the Superman angle. They were all hitting dead ends with the tight-lipped police and what little the witnesses at the bank had to say. Apparently, it had all happened very quickly. The robbers didn't waste time with pleasantries, just shot up the ceiling while half their group moved to the back, going straight for a box that had belonged to Lionel Luthor.
Clark wasn't sure what to make of that. Lionel had helped him, in the end. But there had been a time when he trusted Lionel about as far as... someone besides him could throw him. It didn't escape him that they went right for this box, bypassing all the money. It had something. Considering Lionel's connection to him, he was afraid it had something directly related to him.
He would keep his eyes and ears out. But that was Superman's problem. Right now, Clark needed to focus on work. He stopped at his building and quickly changed into a fresh suit. If Principal Watts, loopy as he'd been, had found a moment to comment on Clark's suit, he could only imagine what someone as shrewd as Perry would say. He moved out of his room and to his laptop. He typed fast, summing up what little he "knew" from the police and what he'd gathered at the school. From all accounts, Superman had been distracted, speaking to no one, searching for a bomb. The police had what was once inside the bear now. He'd delivered it himself. But Principal Watts had relayed what Superman had said.
"A phony bomb. Someone triggered his hearing and told him it was here. But it was only..."
A distraction. That was what it was. He knew that without being there.
Someone wanted to make sure Superman was far away so they could get at that box. It made him, again, wonder exactly what was in there.
He sent his email off to his own address at The Planet, knowing that Clark Kent, Press, had no intel on that. That was, again, Superman's concern.
But it was only three now. Clark Kent wasn't done dealing with the things that concerned Clark Kent. And that included Lorna Leery. He put his keys and phone in is pocket, moving to the door.
The late Lana Lang had some explaining to do.
*****************
By the time he reached room 1013 at The Metropolis Grand Hotel, Clark was so tense he had to pull back for fear of splintering the door as he knocked. There was still a slight imprint before it opened on Lana, wide-eyed.
"Clark! Is she okay? She just fainted dead away and you carried her off and I didn't know what to think."
He moved past her into the room. "I don't know what to think, either. I've been going over and over it in my mind and the only conclusion I can come to is that you lied to me." He turned as she closed the door.
Her hair obscured her face as her head stayed bent, staring at the floor. "I didn't... I didn't lie. Not exactly."
"You called her Lois," he hissed, moving toward her, willing her to face him. "Two days ago, you expressed surprise about Lois working at The Planet, then you asked if Chloe was still there, and then you... you called her Lois..."
Her head snapped up. "Was I supposed to call her Chloe in public? I didn't know what else to do."
"How did you know to call her that, Lana? Only a handful of people know and, last I checked, you weren't one of them."
"I know that. I've always had to figure things out for myself." He noticed her hands were shaking as she moved past him to a sideboard, filling up a glass after a few halting tries. "I've never been told, at least not until long after I had to find out. Why should this have been any different?"
"What?" He shook his head. "If this is about me, I told you. And your answer was to blow yourself up and incriminate your husband."
"Don't you call him that," she nearly growled, slamming her glass down. "He stopped being my husband the minute his sick science..." She raised a hand to her face and moved to the couch. "I don't want to talk about ancient history. I just wanted to know if she was okay. Can you just tell me and save your speeches for later? I'm not in the mood for this now. I feel bad enough without..." She buried her head in her hands and he heard soft sobs.
He stared down at her, feeling both impatience and pity. Pity won out and he sat on the couch beside her. "You knew. Why didn't you just tell me you knew?"
"I was waiting for you to tell me," she said, sniffling and lifting her head. "I really thought you would. I wanted you to so I could just feel... in it for once. A part of things. I didn't want to just come out and say it."
"Say what?" he said after the silence grew too long.
"How desperately I've been keeping up with things here. I know how she writes, Clark. Even without that, The Daily Planet has a staff page with pictures. I knew. I just... I didn't want to say it. How pathetic I am to have followed everything you two wrote. How much it reminds me of the past and how..." She swallowed hard. "How wrong I was to leave my life. I was just so... I wanted a piece of that life back. I wanted you back."
Clark shifted in his seat. "Lana..."
"Not that way, Clark. I've... I've accepted that now. I just wanted... I wanted you, for once, to tell me yourself, trust me. I thought you would and then... I don't know. I thought maybe we could all go back, just for Christmas, even." She gave a sad laugh. "I even thought Chloe... Lois might want to. But the way she looked at me," Lana whispered, "it was... I can't even describe it."
Clark stared at his hands. "She doesn't know you. Not anymore."
Lana turned to him, her brow furrowed. "What?"
"It's a long story," he sighed. "I hardly know how to..." He groaned as a ringing sounded from his pocket. He pulled out his phone and flipped it open. "Ten minutes," he said, not giving Perry a chance to speak.
"You said that ten minutes ago."
"I mean for the story. You will have a story in your hands in ten minutes."
"I just better," Perry barked before hanging up.
Clark rubbed at his temples, wondering if that would get his mind in order. He had an inkling how Lois must feel all the time, being the current number one on Perry's speed dial. He nearly wished she was well enough to shoulder some of this because, despite some recently good articles, he had no idea if he was doing anything right. It didn't help that he had to moonlight as Superman. He stared at Lana, who was staring into her drink. It also didn't help that he had the mother of all ex-girlfriends to deal with.
Still... one thing at a time. He had five minutes. He stood. "You're about to get the short version..."
**************************
Martha poked her head in. "All done?"
Lois stared at the few spoonfuls left in the giant bowl. "No. But I can force myself before you report back to your son that I didn't do as I was told."
Martha chuckled and moved forward, perching on the bed. "You know that's not how it is."
"Really? Because he seems to think that's how it is, telling you to make sure I eat," she grumbled.
"He was just worried. He'll cool down." Martha took the tray and placed it on the night stand. "I'm not saying he wasn't being a little high-handed, but..."
"High-handed is an understatement. He said I was too skinny."
"Well..."
"I'll have you know," Lois cut in, "that right now I'm, apparently, at my ideal weight. If this were Los Angeles..."
"But this is Kansas, Dear." Martha smoothed her hair back. "And I think Clark has a point about a few things."
"Not you, too." Lois sighed and crossed her arms.
"When was the last time you had a full meal?"
"Bart's always shoving food in my face."
"And you're eating every bite?"
"Sometimes. The other day, Victor made me eat a whole burrito and..."
"Yes. very nutritious," Martha cut in. "And what about sleep?"
"Last night I had seven full..."
"I'm sure that makes up for weeks and, I might venture, months where you got less than five hours." She leaned forward. "Here's something you can't escape now. I know you." She shrugged. "I've known you since you were thirteen years old and I know that you consider coffee a substitute for both food and sleep. I'm not jumping on you, but, you..." She leaned in closer. "You have gone entirely too long without a mother. I intend to fix that this week. See if I can get you out of some of those bad habits."
Lois tried not to smile or cry or do anything that would keep encouraging this madness. "Maybe I've been pushing myself lately, but..."
"Just lately?"
"Well, I have a whole other life to learn and only a limited time to learn it all."
"Do you?" Martha tilted her head. "Is there going to be a test?"
"No, but..."
"Even if you don't learn it all by Monday morning, which, from what I understand, is when your vacation ends, you have all the time in the world. You can work and learn all you were and find out who you are. This isn't a test."
Lois snorted. "Tell that to Linda. She made flash cards."
"I haven't told this to Linda," Martha said, fussing with her blankets. "Not yet."
Lois squeezed her eyes shut. "Oh, God. I can only imagine when you do." It would make Clark's little power play look like the whine of a squeak toy.
"I might not. No one knows but the three of us. Thought I might tell the boys, I... I could be persuaded to instruct them that Linda not be let in on your little fainting spell."
Lois narrowed her eyes. "This sounds like blackmail."
"Does it?" Martha shrugged. "I thought it was more of an exchange. I want you to do me a favor."
Lois eyed her warily. "What do you want me to do?"
"Nothing." Martha stood.
Lois sat up slightly. "Nothing?"
Martha searched the ceiling. "Maybe not nothing. Read a book. Watch a movie. Gaze at the falling snow with a nice cup of cocoa..."
Lois stared at her suspiciously. "Is this a trick?"
"Not at all." Martha picked up the tray. "You took a vacation. Don't you think you should actually have one?"
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