She woke to raised voices.
No. That was wrong. The voices weren't raised, they were hushed, but loudly so.
"...following her all week. That's what she said," Clark hissed. "This is the second time she's fainted this week at the sight of you and now I found out you were following..."
"I wasn't following her," another voice hissed. It was female and was vaguely familiar.
"Then why would she say..."
"Okay. I was... just kind of following her a little bit... but not to scare her or anything."
"What?!"
"I kept thinking of approaching her, but I just couldn't do it. And you saw what happened when I did. Clark, I... I get that you're upset, but don't you think I am, too? She was... she was like a sister to me. I'd never want to see her like this."
She opened her eyes. Found a popcorn ceiling, then a partially open door. She was in that bedroom again. She couldn't see Clark. But she could see the woman. She'd seen her before, the last time she swooned. She ran her eyes over her. Long, dark hair. Sort of shiny in a way only seen in shampoo commercials. She'd seen her somewhere else, but she couldn't pinpoint where. It was all so hazy.
She tried to sit up and found the edges blurring again. She breathed deep and laid back down, still staring at the woman.
"I'm sorry," she heard Clark say softly. "I'm just... worried is all. I don't know what's going on with her. There used to be these headaches, but this..."
"Headaches?"
"They came with the memory loss. Mur... A doctor friend of mine had a theory about some kind of suggestion combined with the drugs used made her sort of... seize up in pain. A few times, she blacked out from them."
The woman seemed to start. "I... I had no idea..."
"I didn't tell you that part. It's fine. She doesn't get them now. There was a chemical release and... The point is that something happened to take the headaches away. But sometimes something is too much and she just... I can't watch this anymore because there's nothing I can do. There's not one fucking thing I can..."
She heard a loud cracking noise and saw the woman jump.
"I'm sorry," she heard him say again. "I'm not exactly myself lately."
The woman gave a shaky sort of smile. "Who is, these days?"
"I should go help my mom with the tray."
The woman nodded. "I'm just gonna freshen up."
Lois heard him sigh. "Bathroom's just..."
"I know where everything is." She smiled again. "I haven't been gone that long."
Lois heard his footsteps fade down the hall, but the woman stayed there, staring after him as her smile dropped.
Her eyes squeezed shut and Lois could hear her voice, soft, but audible. "I can do this. I can. I'm almost..." Her voice lowered and Lois found herself sitting up, trying to hear better when something crashed to the floor.
She looked between the vase she’d just smashed and the woman, head whirling in her direction. They stilled, staring at each other through the partially-open door and something passed between them. A faint feeling of dread. She felt it herself even as she saw it on the woman's face before it seemed to vanish, replaced with another shaky smile and breathy sort of laugh.
"Look who's up," she said.
Lois wanted to be more than up. She wanted to run away and she couldn't think why, only that the haze had cleared from her mind and she pushed back the covers and...
"No!" She stilled, staring as the woman moved forward. "I saw Clark take your shoes off and there's glass." She pulled a chair from the wall to the pile of glass. "I don't want you to hurt yourself." She gave another shaky smile.
"I guess not, considering..." Lois found herself croaking.
The woman blinked at her. "Wha..."
"Apparently, I'm like a sister to you." She swallowed, even though her throat felt like it was sticking together. "Which begs the question... Who are you?"
"Well... That's actually sort of complicated. I'm..." Her fingers drummed on the back of the chair. "Why don't we wait for Clark to..."
"I'm just asking your name." Lois sat back against the headboard, just tired now. Tired of all she knew and all she didn't.
"Well... That's also..." The woman stopped the drumming and looked back toward the doorway. She sighed, then quickly sat. "It's Lorna," she said. "Lorna Leery."
"Lorna Leery," Lois recited.
The woman nodded.
"And how do I know Lorna Leery?" Lois felt there was something about the name. Leery. Something tickled her mind. She just couldn't pinpoint... She felt things blurring again and sat up further. "Considering she's like a sister to me, I'm kind of curious."
"Well, she's..." The woman sort of laughed nervously. "I mean, I'm... I'm actually... I wasn't always known by this name."
Lois gave a laugh as well. "Join the club. So what other name are you known by?"
"Uh... I... We should wait for Clark. Really. I'm not sure I should..."
"Then, don't. This isn't an interrogation." Except for how it totally is. Lois tried for a smile. She wanted her at ease. This nervous sort of energy of hers... she didn't trust it. It seemed to breed lies. She wasn't sure why, but she didn't trust her. This Lorna Leery was lying. She knew it in her gut. "God, I'm thirsty."
"Oh. Well, Martha's making some tea. I'm sure they'll be up any..."
"There's a pitcher on the dresser from last night. I'm just so dry. If you could just..."
"Sure." The woman, Lorna, stood quickly and moved to the dresser. Lois could see her shoulders relax as she poured. Grateful for something to do. Grateful to stop talking. Stop lying.
"So you know Martha?" Lois asked casually.
"Since I was little."
"I figured." Lois remembered her saying she knew where the bathroom was, which she then didn't use. "I guess you grew up here."
"Yes. I was born here." She handed Lois the glass. "I knew Martha even before I knew Clark."
"Even before?" Lois repeated, taking it. "That seems to imply you know him well."
She sat. "Well, we used to..." She seemed to stop herself. "I really should wait for Clark to..."
Again with waiting for Clark? "Oh, Clark..." Lois shook her head. "He's not the info police. You can tell me anything you want to."
"Lorna" stared at her and Lois had a sudden realization. She didn't want to. She didn't want to tell her anything. "I just don't want to overload you." She gave that smile again, that nearly hesitant smile that Lois was starting to see for what it was - a prelude to a lie. "I saw what happened. You gave us all a good scare."
"Yes." Lois leaned back, feeling weak and defeated again. "You'll have to forgive me. I'm not usually prone to fainting spells." She chuckled to herself. "That's a lie."
"No, that's true," she said sadly. "You're not like that."
Lois sat up and sipped at her water. Here was something... "And how do you know that?"
"You were..." She stopped again. "Well, I knew you in high school."
"I didn't exactly get to the yearbook part of my studies, so you'll have to indulge me with a few details."
"Well, I don't know if I can..." She gave that damned smile again. "Why don't we wait for Clark and then he can..."
Lois put down the glass and leaned back again. "Okay. I really don't have the energy for this. All I want to know is your real name and how you know me and why I'm like your sister and why you hate seeing me this way. These aren't hard questions and I'm not an idiot. I heard you two talking out there. I even heard your little peptalk and I can't even imagine what that's about."
"Lois?"
Clark was in the doorway with a tray, staring at her.
"Clark, what is with this girl? I'm getting nothing out of her but half-truths and outright lies."
"Lorna" stood. "Clark, I didn't want to upset her."
"Oh, bull! You wanted to wait and see what Clark said so you wouldn't spill any more than you have to. I'm starting to see a pattern, here."
She smiled nervously again. "I don't know why she's so..."
"Don't start with that smile again." Lois turned to Clark. "Who is she, anyway?"
"She's Lana Lang," Martha said from behind Clark before moving past him.
"Lana Lang," Lois repeated dully.
Lorna... or Lana moved closer to Clark, smiling that smile again. "Hi."
She closed her eyes, waiting to faint. "I'm still conscious," she said, nearly regretting it.
"Lana Lang." She opened her eyes.
Lana nodded. "I... I didn't want to just tell you."
"Well, I did," Martha sighed. "I hope it's not too much of a shock," she said to Lois. "I just didn't want you letting this snowball."
"No. It's fine." She stared at Lana again. She took a deep breath. "You're Lana Lang?" It was still hard to wrap her mind around it. Because Lana was supposed to be...
"Yes." It was Clark this time, moving to the bed and putting down the tray. "Are you okay?"
"Okay. Yeah. That's... a lot."
Clark leaned forward. "Is it too much?"
"No," Lois sort of squeaked before clearing her throat. "Just... taking it in." She stared at Lana. "Smallville High Lana Lang?"
She nodded. "Yes."
"Lana Lang," she repeated. "Prettiest girl in town?"
Lana looked down, smiling slightly. "Well, I don't know if..."
"No. You're very pretty. You are. I'm just trying to go over what I know and... Lana Lang. Okay." She shook her head. "Deceased wife of Lex Luthor killed by Lionel Luthor... Yeah. That part's kind of stumping me."
"Well..."
"That's actually a long story," Clark cut in. "See, this was years ago and..."
"I was very young," Lana broke in. "I was barely twenty and I'd found out that..."
"You knew about it before, but I wasn't sure how to tell you when you asked about Lana because I wasn't sure if you'd react well to more..."
"...actually faked the pregnancy and there were all these projects and I just wanted..."
"Stop!" She hadn't said it. She'd been thinking it, but somehow the words had come out of Martha's mouth. She took a breath and looked at the three of them. "I think it's best," Martha said calmly. "If people talked one at a time."
Lois nodded quickly. "I agree. That sounds good or..." She threw off the covers, hearing the dull clink of the mugs on the tray as it flopped over them. "How about nobody talks?" She searched the floor and saw her sneakers. "That sounds better."
Clark stood. "Lois..."
"You know, it's just stuffy in here. I... There it is." She grabbed her sweater off the foot of the bed.
She felt Martha's hand on her back. "Sweetie, if you need some rest..."
"I need some air," she said quickly. She turned to Lana. "Great meeting you. Sorry I yelled at you. Have a good night. I gotta..."
Clark grasped her arm. "Wait, Lois..."
"I need to get out of here," she said hoarsely, shrugging him off and rushing to the door.
"But..."
"Clark, let her go," Martha's voice said as she moved down the hall, down the stairs, out the door, into the barren fields where the air was so cold it bit her fingers. She welcomed it. Something out of mind. Something in body. Something away from all she knew and all she didn't...
*****************
"Did Lana get off okay?"
"Yes," he grunted, parting the curtains. "She said she wants to meet tomorrow morning. See if we can figure out how to help Lois remember more..." He trailed off, staring into the fields ahead. He zoomed in as he saw her, moving slowly around the frozen stalks, hugging her arms.
"She won't go far."
He jumped slightly, pulling back. "I was just..."
"You were just trying to control everything," Martha said, clinking dishes together in the sink behind him. "Clark, just come away from the window. Sit down."
Clark obeyed instinctively, then stood again. "Mom, I should see if she..."
"You should stay here," she said firmly, putting the last mug in the drainboard. "She's just taking a little walk. She did that a few times today. Says it helps her think."
"And you let her?"
"No." Martha dried her hands, giving him an exasperrated look. "I encouraged her. She's a grown woman. If she wants to take a walk, she can take a walk." She walked out.
Clark followed. "But at night..."
"Which is why I know she won't go far." Martha moved past the dining room and into the living room, picking up a stray afghan. "She's no fool. She won't go running off where she can't see. In fact..." Martha pulled the living room curtain back. "Light's on in the barn. See? She's fine."
"But she fainted again tonight."
"Yes. She did. And you can't control that."
"I think I can," Clark said, nodding to himself. "We just have to make sure she gets the right information. We've been focusing on the details of the more dramatic events, but maybe we're going at this from the wrong angle. She was saying stuff about personal things. Maybe those are the details we need to focus on." He nodded again. "I know Linda's busy till Monday, but if Lana can come over tomorrow and fill her in on some of the more..."
Martha groaned and slumped to the couch. "Please say you didn't invite Lana over tomorrow."
"Not yet. I told her I had to go jogging, then to work. And that Lois was booked up. But if we can clear her schedule, then..."
"Clark," she sighed. "I've been trying to get this through to all of you, including her. You can't just cram a life into four... now three days."
"But we need to. If she knows it all before she joins the real world again, then she won't have these surprises, these faints."
"These faints," Martha muttered, fluffing a couch pillow rather roughly. "In my non-medical opinion, these faints are happening because her day is filled with nothing but facts and dates even before all of you came along and..." She threw the pillow down and rubbed her eyes. "Clark, nobody can just take this all in without some time for perspective."
"We don't have time for anything. She's back at work Monday and we need to be sure she knows all..."
"It's impossible," Martha cut in. "There is no way to..."
There was a loud beep and Clark took his phone from his pocket. "Damn it!"
"What?"
"I'm late," he said, glancing at the time as he opened his phone. "Victor's pitching a text fit."
"Then just go, Clark."
"I should make sure..."
"You should make sure you get your own self together. That's what you should do. That and go." Martha pushed him to the door.
"Get out of here."
"But Lois..."
"I'll handle her. I actually know how. Now go."
He found himself on the other side of the front door, but just barely, before it shut. He stood there a moment, staring at the barn.
"I don't hear you going!"
He rushed off on instinct, just at the tone. He knew, from experience, when his mother was done messing around.
**************************
"Quit messing around," Victor barked.
"I'm not. I'm concentrating." He was concentrating so hard, the top box was getting black because, every time he tried to focus his breath, his damned heat vision got in the way. "I can't do this."
"Of course you can't. You're sloppy. You were born with all this power and it's made you lazy."
"I am not la..."
"Do you know how long it took me to grab a damned soda can without turning it into dust?" He slapped at his right arm. "Some of us have to work at our powers."
"It's not my fault I was born this way," Clark growled. "If I had my way..."
"You'd be a normal guy, just like everyone else. I get it. Poor, all-powerful Superman would trade it all for..."
"Shut up," he shouted, nearly pulling his hair out now. Victor had been in drill sergeant mode all night and it was wearing thin. "I'm not a God damned teenager anymore. I know what's at stake. If you think for one second that I want to be this... fucking mess..." He backed to the wall and slammed a fist backward into, hearing the dull crack. "I can't do this. I can't control this. I can't control Anything!" He huffed loudly and slammed again, looking up in alarm at a loud groan from the support beam he'd unearthed in the plaster. "Oh, Jesus!"
"Do that again," he heard from Victor.
His eyes moved to Victor, nearly grinning at his right, then to the metal beam, swaying slightly above them. "What?"
"Do that again," Victor repeated.
He turned around and gripped the beam, trying to still it. "Are you nuts? The whole damned place could fall down."
"Not that." Victor said behind him. He found himself turned around by a strong grip. Victor moved away and gestured to the wall, where several boxes were sort of crushed against it, nearly flattened.
"I did that?"
Victor nodded. "How did you do that?"
"You think I know? I don't even remember."
"You got mad. You were feeling something."
"You told me not to feel things."
"Well, fine. You were thinking about something that made you all..."
"You said to stop thinking."
"Well, why the hell are you listening to me?" Victor sighed and moved to the table, perching on it. "I'm gonna be completely honest with you, Clark." He folded his arms. "I have no idea what I'm doing."
Clark squinted at him. "What?"
"I'm serious. This is just a crapshoot. I've been trying yelling at you, speaking softly, pep talks, yelling at you..."
"Mostly that," Clark pointed out.
"The fact is, none of this is just me pulling these powers out of you like I'm some magician. I mean, it seems to take someone else to knock them out of you, but it's there. It's all there. You just gotta let em out."
"Well. I'm trying to," Clark groaned. "I'm even trying not to try to. I never know what's gonna work."
"Neither do I." Victor shrugged. "Which is why I try every possible thing. There's no manual to you."
Clark rubbed his eyes. "I wish there was."
"Here's all I know." Victor leaned to him. "You are at full strength. You can do everything you ever could. You just have to stop thinking you can't."
"But I can't..."
"Stop that."
"I'm serious. I was completely drained and it's like..."
"It's like nothing happened. You just smashed a bunch of boxes to the wall and you're still focused on what you can't do and I'm starting to wonder if... Never mind."
Clark stood in front of him as he straightened. "What?"
"It's nothing. You won't hear it, anyway."
He sidestepped, but Clark sped in front of him. "I can hear just fine."
Victor stared at him, then took a deep breath. "You don't want to have your powers back. You're..."
"What? I just told you! I'm not a kid anymore. I know what dangers there are and I want to help. I..."
"Oh, this goes deeper than that. But I'm not a therapist, so I can't just say..."
"Just say it, Victor. I'm not working hard enough. If I need to take time off from my job, I will." He didn't want to. Not now. But if he had to... "This is more important than the paper. I..."
"This has nothing to do with your job," Victor cut him off. "This is about you. You don't want them back because you think you aren't worth it."
"No, I..." He trailed off. He'd been ready to answer automatically that that was NOT what he thought. Except he couldn't say it wasn't. But he couldn't say it was, either. "I want to do what I could do before. I want to fight against..."
"Yes. You do. You want save the world." Victor folded his arms. "As long as nobody's looking."
"What does that mean?"
"I listened to you bitch about giving that speech and about your boss making Superman out to be some hero." Victor shook his head. "You know what, Clark? You're fucking Superman. You're a hero and everyone loves you whether you deserve it or not."
"I'm not saying I deserve it. I..."
"Of course you aren't saying that. Pretty damned far from it. But you can't show that out there. It doesn't matter if you think you deserve it." He gestured to the wide window. "They need it. It's not about just you. It's about them and... about me!" Victor quieted. "It's about all of us. Don't you get it? You're the only one of us that can hold his head up in a crowd and have lunch with the police."
"It wasn't lunch. It just happened to be my lunch hour."
"You're the only one of us that can open that door, let the world know we aren't a bunch of creepy vigilantes." Victor sighed. "Ollie thinks it's him. That he can just keep up that Robin Hood act and everyone's going to eventually see things his way and get on his train." He laughed. "Outside of Mayor Queen, the guys a PR nightmare. But it's you. You're the one, Clark. You with the manners and the gee-golly attitude. You think I'm helping you because it's fun?" Victor gripped his shoulders. "Clark, you're the one that can bring us out of hiding. Bring out the good guys that are too scared to even it out when all the bad goes down." Victor took a deep breath. "Isn't that worthy enough?"
"Vic, I... I don't know what to say. Of course it's worthy. We can train harder. Once Lois comes back to work, Perry will probably let up and I can have more time to..."
"Oh, never mind," Victor groaned, moving to the door. "You aren't hearing a word I say." He threw open the door and it fell off the hinges, leaving another crack in the wall. "I'll call Ollie. See if he can sign off on a new workspace."
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