Almost Lovers (Chapter Eighteen)

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Chapter 18

Clark’s eyes followed an older woman clutching a purse as she headed back to her table. She wasn’t like the other women here. For one thing, her pastel skirt and jacket would be more at home on a Sunday at church than a Friday at a night club. But that wasn’t what told him it was her. It was just a feeling. There was something in the way she moved that seemed calculatedly dainty, something in the way she looked around as if cataloging and dismissing specimens as her eyes moved over the crowd, something in the way she called him “Dear” with that same appraising look as she ordered milk, of all things, that made every hair on his body stand up, then recoil.

He didn’t even need to hear people say her name to know it was her. Some people called her Dolores Murphy, others called her Granny Goodness. Even those sweet, harmless names raised his hackles. He could see why Jones was so uber focused on her.

But there’d been no sign of Desaad. Jones’ subterfuge with Bruno and pals had told him he was around, but where? Even they didn't seem to know. There was no VIP space at Granny’s or Edge’s tables waiting for some mystery guest.

Regardless, step three was in motion. “Johnny Stitches” was stepping out of the office, head down, moving toward Mannheim, speaking closely with him. And Clark could hear it now, a low whine that he knew would grow to be nearly ear-splitting in time, at least to him.

But he couldn’t leave – not yet. Step three was about the same as steps one and two for him – keep mixing drinks, keep this night running smoothly, let things take their course up to a point. It was the only damned thing Jones was letting him do and he was damned well going to do it.

“Stitches” moved to the office and Bruno smiled and made his way to the stage.

That’s right. Smile, you smug bastard. Everything’s going according to plan.

Clark kept serving it up, trying to ignore the low whine ringing in his ears, knowing it would be unbearable soon. The lights were blinking, the orders were tapering off, Bruno was calling for attention.

And he knew he’d have to leave soon, knew he’d have to stay far away, but he could hardly bear it. Jones insisted he’d have it all under control, insisted that Clark couldn’t be near when the portal geared up, insisted that, even if they succeeded in sucking Goodness and Desaad back to where they belonged, he wasn’t strong enough to withstand the persuasion at full strength.

But did John know that for sure? Even he’d admitted Clark had matured. Surely, he was stronger than John knew by now.

Regardless, he had his orders. He had to leave and he had to do it now. Damn it all.

He unhooked his carnation and left it behind, knowing he’d hear it from Sawyer and Turpin for pulling that… again. Luckily, this was Irving Clemp’s last night and Clark Kent would no longer have to worry about whether the police were willing to work with him again after tonight, however this went. And it was someone else’s last night, too.

He strode over to Cat as the lights dimmed. “Excuse me, Miss Kane.”

“What is it?” she asked, turning to him with a tight smile.

“I’m having trouble finding something. It’s important,” he added when she looked ready to brush him off.

“You know, this better be important,” she hissed as she walked ahead of him to the store room. “Edge is two drinks away from putting Mannheim on his board as a silent partner.” She laughed. “Not so silent when I get my…”

He caught her under the arms as she fell backward. It was just a tap, just enough to knock her out as he knew there was no way she’d leave just because he said so. He consoled himself with the idea that she’d be grateful if she knew why he did it. 

He picked her up, taking one last look at the office as “Stitches” shut himself in the lead room.

He might have no control over what happened now. But that didn’t mean he was ducking out of this night. He moved into the alleyway and set her down on some flattened boxes, pulling a dumpster out to hide her before pulling his phone from his pocket.

He’d gone home to get it, after weeks without it, before work. If this operation was ending tonight, then so was the silence surrounding it. Sawyer might be keeping an eye on his communication, but not so much that he couldn’t hint to Victor and the others that he may need them tonight. He’d watch over things and he wouldn’t be alone if he could help…

“Hey!” He gritted his teeth as Turpin approached him from the street. “And here we go again! I saw you two duck out.”

“Listen, something’s off in there and…”

“Where’s Grant? Off leaking important details?” He grabbed Clark’s phone. “This is the last time I let the press into…”

“Hey, Drake! What’s with you running off? The boss says everyone hears the speech!”

Turpin rolled his eyes and turned to the mouth of the alleyway as one of the bouncers moved in. Clark had seen him a few times before. He was a skinny, unremarkable guy… except for how he was in the way right now.

“Don’t worry about it, Steve,” Turpin said dismissively as Clark wondered if he’d have to tap the both of them on the head. “Just keepin things in line, Makin sure what’s-his-name, here, ain’t slackin off is all.”

Steve moved toward them, chuckling in a way that raised Clark’s hackles… or maybe that was the rising crescendo of ear-splitting noise from inside. “So you don’t know his name? Weren’t you two hired together?” 

It all happened so fast, then. Turpin reached into his jacket and the man knocked his head into the wall, his other hand coming back with Turpin's gun. 

He laughed. “Police issue. Well… now I know for sure.”

Clark could only stare dumbly, trying to resist covering his ears as Turpin slid down the wall and the man stomped hard on Clark’s phone.

“Yes. That’s right. You’ve been ‘made.’” He laughed again, waving the gun at Clark. “I have to confess, I just eat up all that cops and robbers subterfuge and slang. You’re all so precious with the games you play. But this is a little bigger than cops and robbers.”

“I take it your name’s not Steve,” Clark tried, staring at the gun. He wasn’t afraid of it. But he didn’t think Desaad needed to know that.

“The big question is: What’s your name? I had my suspicions about you two.” He shrugged and laughed again. “Not that I cared. But I knew Maggie Sawyer might find it hard to resist getting in here somehow. Everyone around here knows she’s been after Mannheim for years and she’s very determined.” He smiled. “And I like that.” Turpin groaned and Desaad hit him with the butt of his gun. 

Just then, Clark saw someone else approaching and calculated the odds of knocking Desaad and the newcomer out… then he saw it was Bobby Bigmouth, lurking as usual. Clark mouthed for him to run. To Clark’s relief, he did. He turned his attention back to Desaad just as he straightened.

“Don’t worry. He’s breathing. Wouldn’t want to hurt him much. As I said, I actually like the police. I actually prefer them to this rag tag group of idiots I’ve been forced to work with. Strong work ethic, air of authority.” He nodded. “That’s the kind of soldier he needs.”

Clark felt frozen, trying to formulate a new plan. He didn’t want Desaad to know who or what he was. He also didn’t have the option of alerting the League with his phone in pieces… not unless he just sped off.

“Then there’s you.” He gestured grandly to Clark. “The press, if I heard right. You’ve got your uses, too. See, Metropolis is just the start. We’ll need to spread the word. And I promise your loyalty will be rewarded.” 

And he couldn’t just speed off and find the guys now. Desaad was right here! Jones was so focused on Goodness, someone needed to make sure Desaad went back where he came from. 

Desaad smiled again. “So why don’t you go back inside and join the welcoming party?”

Clark threw his smug smile back at him. “Only if you come, too.” He hit him, right upside the head, wondering why he hadn’t just done that in the first place.

Desaad just kept smiling. “Wow. That almost hurt.”

Almost? Clark tried again, this time knocking the gun away and slapping him across the other side.

He laughed. “Well, you pack quite a wallop. I’m starting to think you’re more than a reporter.”

“Unbelievable,” Clark muttered, hitting again… then again.

“You know, I’d… oof!... I’d hit back, but… ow!... I’m starting to think it won’t do much… mmmph!... good. Let me guess…”

“Shut up!” Clark hit him harder, wishing he’d just stop talking at this point, so he could figure out what to do. He obviously couldn’t knock the man out.

“You’ve gotta be him, right? Our big red and blue roadblock… Hey! Not in the mouth! We’re having a conversation, here.”

“No, we’re not.” Clark was done talking. Jones had said they were immortal, but that didn’t mean Desaad couldn’t be subdued. Clark hit him twice more, mostly for distraction, before he ripped off a nice chunk of the dumpster and fastened it around him.

“Now, that is some good thinking,” Desaad said, still smiling even with his arms bound at his sides. “You know, we mostly assume you’re kind of slow for a Kryptonian, but you might be up to standard. Of course, you’re all far below the Apokaliptian IQ and let’s not even talk about the Martian intellect…”

Clark stilled and squeezed the metal tighter around him. “You knew?”

“Of course we knew.” He laughed. “Not right away, but once the mother box activated, it was hard to miss the Martian running around in human skin, at least for us. I give the two of you points for ingenuity. Now, if you both prove to be loyal as well…”

Clark lifted him by the collar. “Where is he?”

Desaad laughed again. And it was really starting to piss Clark off. “He’s probably with my associate right now, thinking he’s going to open the oven and push her in like in one of your Earth fairytales. Coincidentally, those are just charming…”

“Would you shut up?” Clark dragged him toward the door.

“No, really. Hats off to the humans. We have no artistic outlets where I come from and I really am looking forward to all of us learning more about human culture.”

“Too bad no one’s coming,” Clark growled, tearing open the office door and shoving him in. Whatever happened in there, he was going in.

He shoved Desaad next to the panel that opened the wall. “What’s the code?”

“You know, I can barely think of it. You’ve really cut off my circulation, here. Why don’t you…”

“Never mind,” Clark growled, shoving a hand in and tearing off a chunk of the wall and the lead behind it. He was done with subterfuge and subtlety by now.

Of course, maybe he could have used a little finesse. That was when things began to hurt. He’d mostly been distracted away from the whine of the motherbox, but now it was unavoidable. There was no escaping it and no preparing himself for what he saw next… 

It was Jones, but not as he’d never seen him. Green-skinned and sweating in the corner, cowering away from a flaming torch held by Tiny… the real Tiny. Granny stood next to them, barely flinching. “I was wondering when you’d show up. Nice to officially meet you.”

Tiny turned. “Clemp? This is management business. Get the hell out of…”

“It’s Superman, you blind idiot,” she said levelly, “now keep that fire on him.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Tiny muttered, staring at Clark wide-eyed before turning back to Jones, still flinching and cowering.

Clark stayed in the doorway he’d torn and quickly pulled Desaad in front of him. “I’ve got a friend of yours here, too. Why don’t we make a trade?” he tried, trying not to flinch at the noise and the sick feeling in his gut. It glowed green in here. 

“That fool?” She shook her head. “This could have been over a week ago, but for his incompetence. Besides, you really don’t have much leverage. You must already know you can’t hurt us. The same doesn’t go for you and your friend.”

Clark tried to catch John’s eye. “John, just hit him and…”

“He won’t hear you,” Desaad said, another obnoxious laugh. “He’s bound by fear. Martians have a crippling fire phobia. Nothing to what the yellow sun does to them, but it’s quite the Achilles heel.”

“Do you ever stop talking?” Goodness sighed, then nodded to Clark. “Just give me the fool, Dear. It will go easier on you if you do. I’ll be sure to tell him you cooperated.”

“No, thanks.”

“Are you sure?” She tilted her head, giving him a saccharine smile that made his insides curdle. “I can see you sweating. Is something in here bothering you, Sweetheart?” She grabbed Desaad, then, and Clark fell with him, too weak to withstand the kryptonite and the intensified whining of the mother box.

Before he could even think to get up, Goodness was leaning over him, ripping at his shirt and placing something heavy on his chest. “Told you idiots it was the green,” she said, before heaving Desaad up.

Desaad laughed. “Green means go. Silly creatures, aren’t they?”

“You’re no better,” Clark heard her mutter as he fought to keep his eyes open, “letting a little water break your hold on our source. Now get out there and help that speech along. If you lose them this time, so help me…”

“I could use some help getting out of this.”

Clark blearily saw her snap her fingers at Tiny. “You! Large idiot!”

“I have a name…”

“Yes. The hilariously ironic Tiny,” she said impatiently. “Now give me that torch and help this fool backstage.”

Desaad looked down. “Like this?”

“Do you need your hands?” she yelled. “Oh, never mind. Come on.” She snapped her fingers at Tiny again. “You! Keep an eye on them,” she said as she shoved Desaad out. “It might take the both of us to open the portal.”

Clark tried to breath under the weight of the kryptonite. It couldn’t have been bigger than a fist, but it felt like a ton. He waited for the sound of the office door closing before he spoke. “John. You okay?”

“No talking,” Tiny grumbled.

He tried to catch John’s eye, tried to speak to him silently, wondering if John could hear his thoughts now. It’s not hurting you,he thought hard. It’s not really hurting you. But he didn’t know that, not for sure. Desaad may have called it a phobia, but that fire might be the same for John as this rock on his chest was for him.

He could hear Bruno’s voice droning from the club. And it must be having some affect now, with Desaad and Goodness out there. The motherbox was trembling, glowing. He could see Tiny flinching away from it.

“Tiny,” he tried, focusing on the large man, trying to ignore the noise and the pain. “You don’t have to listen to them.”

“I ain’t about to listen to you,” he said, still holding Jones in the corner, his back to Clark.

“I heard you talking before. You don’t like this spooky stuff. Do you really want to be ruled by some overlord?”

“You got it wrong. We’ll be ruling this city with you gone.”

“You don’t really believe that. Listen to how she talks to you. You think it’s going to get better?” 

His hand faltered. “Well, I ain’t gonna believe you. You’ve been Superman, spyin on us this whole time.”

“For good reason. What they’re bringing into this world could destroy it.”

“Destroy you, you mean.” He sighed, his eyes moving over Clark. “That rock really hurtin ya?”

Clark tried to laugh. “Just a little.”

“Listen, I got nothing against you personally. Hell, you even make a good cocktail. But there ain’t room for you in this world. It ain’t natural.”

“And they are?” 

“Well, they fixed up Johnny Stitches. They keep their word.”

“Until they get what they want,” Clark choked out. God, he could barely think anymore. Everything felt so heavy, so overwhelming. “This is bigger than you know,” he said weakly.

“Don’t have to tell me,” he heard a shaky voice say. And it wasn’t Tiny.

He blearily saw Tiny drop his torch and run to the door. The torch flickered out as he backed away, his hands laced behind his head.

“Yeah. Keep going. To the wall. Oh, my God! What the hell is this room?” It was Cat, hands trembling, holding Turpin’s gun.

“Listen, Kandy,” Tiny started.

“No, you listen. I’m a little shaky, but you’re a pretty big target and the safety’s not on, so I wouldn’t make any sudden moves if I were you.”

Clark tried to call her name, but there didn’t seem to be anything coming out of his mouth. Or maybe he just couldn’t hear it above the deafening whine. How could they not hear it?

“Kent? Why are you just lying there?” Cat started to him, then screamed as something moved in the corner. “What the hell is that?” She pointed the gun toward John as he braced himself against the wall, trying to stand.

“No. Don’t…”

Then came the BOOM! 

For a moment, he thought it was the gun, but it was too loud for that, too loud for anything in this world, so loud he supposed even they could hear it, feel the vibration. He blearily watched all three of them drop to the floor. 

Tiny fell right over him. And if he thought he couldn’t breathe before…

It was opening. It made no sense, but the space above the motherbox was opening, growing, and everything seemed bathed in cold, white light.

He wondered if he was hallucinating. He very well might be as he was probably blacking out. The room grew eerily silent. He could swear he felt weightless, as if there was no floor under him, no Tiny slumped over him, as if everything in the room was suspended in mid-air.

He suddenly realized it was. Then came the drop…

When he picked himself up out of a dent in the floor, Tiny was out cold and Cat was screaming in the corner with Jones leaning over her.

“It’s alright,” he was saying. “Calm down.”

He doubted that would happen unless Jones put on a face -- any face that wasn’t green.

But then he saw the light at the end of that tunnel… or tube. Something was moving distantly in that light.

He moved weakly to Jones, pulling him away from Cat. “It’s too late now. We need to stop it!”

“No!” Jones growled. “Not without them!”

“Something’s coming!”

Jones only shook him off and disappeared. Clark fell to the floor, too weak to stop him. 

And Cat just wouldn’t stop screaming. “What’s happening? What the hell is happening?”

“A new world,” a cloyingly sweet voice said from the doorway. “It’s coming. He’s coming.”

Clark tried to stand, but she planted her foot on his chest, grinding it in.

“The symbol of El.” Goodness smiled coolly. “What a fitting welcome mat, considering your father stopped us before. I think he’ll be very happy to see you, Dear.” 

Tiny groaned and picked himself up from the floor. Cat was still screaming. 

Granny pushed at Tiny. “You! Imbecile! Shut that up!”

Tiny lurched out of sight, shaking his head. Clark could still hear her screams, though muffled a moment later as Desaad, Mannheim, and Rocco moved into the room.

“What the hell is Clemp doing in here?” Rocco wanted to know.

“He’s Superman, you idiots!” Goodness yelled. “Now what are you doing in here? Get back out there and…”

“They’re ready for him. They’re awaiting his orders,” Desaad said, as if bored, arms still bound. “Would someone get this off me?”

“What do you mean, orders? And… and…” Mannheim gestured to Clark. “Do you think we’re dumb or something? That ain’t Superman. That’s Clemp.”

“No, that’s Superman,” Desaad said tiredly.

“No. That’s our bartender, for cryin out loud,” Rocco said. “Besides, Superman doesn’t have a beard.”

“Yeah. Or glasses. What are you trying to do? Pull one over?” Mannheim pulled a gun from his jacket and trained it on Granny. “You kill the wrong guy and our deal’s off!”

It was almost hilarious.

Granny seemed to find it pretty funny, too, as she laughed and leaned over Clark, ripping at his beard, then his glasses. “You really are idiots. Fooled by silly disguises. I could see it with the Martian. At least he…” She stopped laughing, gripping Clark by the collar. “Where’s the Martian?”

Clark did laugh then. “No idea.”

She hit him… hard, glowing green between her fingers. “Tell me!”

“Bathroom.” 

She hit him again. He tasted blood.

He laughed again. “Seriously, no idea.” He was going to die abandoned, surrounded by idiots, while a little old lady beat the sh*t out of him. It was truly hilarious… that or he was losing his mind.

She hit harder. He could feel his eye swelling shut.

“He’s probably coming back with a small army to kick your asses.” He laughed harder.

“Small army!” He heard another laugh join his. “Heh! It’s funny because it’s true!” 

He was definitely going crazy now. He could swear he heard Bart.

Granny moved to hit him again, but it… somehow hurt less. Her hand slapped against his jaw weakly. She pulled it away empty. “What the…”

“Hey! Something hit me!” Rocco shrieked. 

“Not hard enough.” 

Rocco slumped to the floor as something red zipped through the room. 

“Bart?” Clark groaned blearily.

“Codenames, Boyscout. Seriously!” 

Mannheim followed him, hitting the floor.

Goodness jumped backward. “What is this?”

“Did he forget to mention he has friends?” Bart appeared in front of her. “Pfft. Typical.”

She grasped at him, but he was gone. 

Clark sat up, felt his strength slowly returning. He suspected that red streak was gathering something green every time it zipped around the room. How did he know to come? Did John…

It didn’t matter. What mattered was that portal and who needed to stay on the other side of it. He stood as Granny swatted blindly about her, then turned to the tube where a dark shape was nearly blotting out the light.

Then the wall fell down. Literally. The opposite wall started shaking and he threw himself over Cat and Tiny, but it crumbled in the other direction, falling into the other building in a mass of torn lead and plaster. Diana tossed it aside like cardboard, rubbing her hands together. “So! Who’s mine?”

Clark stood. “Get the old lady!”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Trust me,” Clark yelled, moving to Desaad. He still felt weak, but he had to be strong enough to give him a push.

“I don’t think you understand what you’re doing,” Desaad said, eyes wide, struggling against the metal still binding him as Clark shoved him to the portal. “These people aren’t your kind. You should be ruling them, not…”

“Do you ever shut up?” He heard behind him. He turned to find Jones, in his old familiar form. Jones grabbed Desaad and yelled “Catch!” before shoving him in. “Now for this *****…”

“Where have you been?” he panted, still weak.

“Getting my game face back.” Jones nodded toward Diana, who had Goodness in her grip, kicking and hitting in vain. “Who the hell invited all these people?”

“I thought it might have been you.”

“I’ve got her,” Diana yelled. “Now what?”

“Toss her in!” Clark and Jones both yelled.

“You’re all fools,” Goodness growled. “You think this is the only way? We will destroy...”

“Yeah. I see what you mean about this one,” Diana yelled before tossing her to John. “Nice to meet you, whoever you are.”

“Likewise,” Jones grunted, heaving her up and holding her up to Clark. “I’ll close the portal. You do the honors?”

“It won’t go easy on you now,” Goodness spat. “This planet will be ours for the…”

“I can’t hit a woman,” Clark said to John over her head, ignoring her.

“Your bones will be ground to…”

“I’m cool with it.” Diana moved forward and gave her a mighty shove. Clark stumbled backward, but Diana broke his fall. “Gotcha, Boyscout.”

Clark stared in horror at the tube. “Jones?” He could see him, fading down the tube…and it was closing. “John!”

Then something moved past him, radiating light. 

“I’ve got him!” Diana was moving to the portal, holding her lasso, digging in her heels, but skidding toward it all the same. “I can’t…”

Just let go! He heard Jones scream in his mind. They’re gone. I’ll be fine. Just let go!

“No!” He gripped Diana, keeping hold on her with what little strength he had.

Tell her to pull it back! I can escape him!

Him? God, no!

“NO!” This time it was Bart, grabbing him from behind. “What’s happening?”

“What the hell?”

He heard Victor now. He didn’t have to think about it. He yelled “Pull!”

And they were moving backward. It was closing, the portal becoming tinier in the space, but they were moving. They couldn’t stop now!

“Pull!” He screamed, as they moved out of the room, over the rubble into the other building… But he could see something now… a hand, then an arm, then…

There was a roar, loud and ear-splitting, all the more so for the sudden silence as they all fell into the rubble together.

He picked himself up, looked around in the settling dust. “Jones? Jones!”

“Dude, who’s Jones?” He heard Bart ask, coughing.

“That other guy,” Diana said, standing and shaking the dust off.

“What other guy?” Victor, this time.

“Look who finally showed up,” Bart laughed as Diana pulled him up.

She huffed out a laugh, with a cloud of dust. “He probably had to drive.”

“Not everyone’s got speed.” Bart giggled. He and Diana executed what looked like a fairly complicated handshake, which would probably be just adorable if it weren’t for the fact that…

“Jones!” Clark clawed at the rubble.

“Dude, calm down! He’s right here!” Bart kicked at a piece of wall ineffectually.

“Yeah.” Diana pulled it up easily. “Told you I had him.”

“Jones?” Clark slumped to the ground, staring at John until his eyes finally opened. “Can we rob this place now?”

Jones sat up. “Only after I reprogram that crowd.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Clark tried to sit up. “Someone has to…” He fell back down.

Victor stood and brushed himself off as Jones sped off. “Rob this place? How much have we missed here?”

“Enough,” Clark groaned as Victor helped him up. He could hear sirens in the distance. “If you can maybe keep the police at bay long enough for Jones to fix this, then we’re also going to have to rob this place.”

“I’m so on this.” Bart grabbed a complicated looking sword and disappeared.

“Hey!” Diana grabbed a strange contraption with Kryptonian symbols and hurried after him.

“Be careful with…” Clark fell back, clutching his ribs. 

Victor caught him. “How you doing?” 

“I’ll survive,” he groaned. “Just…”

“I’ll take care of the police.”

“How’d you guys get here, anyway?”

“Some guy Bart knew. Called him Bobby…”

“Bigmouth,” Clark finished, almost laughing. “I should have known.” No two people that enamored with food could have avoided each other for long. “Go!”

Clark laid back. He’d be fine. Just a little sunbathing and he’d be right back to… “Aggghhhh!”

Something hurt… No. Everything hurt now… But his ribs. He felt something digging into them.

“Superman, huh?” He barely registered the voice over the pain. He opened his eyes. Bruno was shoving his fist into his side, pushing him hard into the rubble. “I thought we made it clear you stayed out of our business!” He pulled back his fist, something green and glowing in it…

“No, Boss!” Bruno stilled and Clark saw Tiny, setting a very unconscious Cat aside before he stood. Tiny stared at Clark. “That won’t kill him.”

Not quickly, no. Maybe Goodness had let Tiny in on a more efficient way. She may have called him a few names, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t paying attention.

“Green means go,” Tiny said. “That’s just… Just gonna make him stronger.”

Clark caught his eye, almost afraid to hope.

“Toss it far away,” he heard Tiny say. “Quick!”

Bruno did. “Good thinkin.” He stumbled to a lead box, opening it and tossing papers on the floor. He came up with something black and shiny. “So this is the one? Or is it the blue, the silver, the…”

“No,” Clark growled, trying to think. The black kryptonite, though not deadly, could be more trouble than it’s worth. The blue was still a bit of a mystery. The silver was a mind-f*ck, and the… “Not the red,” he groaned with all he had in him, widening his eyes. “Please, not the red…”

“Aha!” Mannheim picked up the red stone, moved toward Clark. “Not the red, huh?” He pressed it into Clark’s neck. “Does it hurt, Superman?”

“Just a bit,” he growled, gripping the stone, then Bruno’s neck as he stood. “But it mostly really pisses me off!” He tossed him to the wall, that anger taking over, taking away the pain and exhaustion. “You wanted me here?” Clark growled, advancing on him. “You got me.” He picked him up again, holding him against the wall. “Do you even know what you almost did?”

“Lemme go,” Bruno choked out.

“No! You need to learn what happens when you mess with things you don’t understand.”

“Let him go!” It was Jones now, standing beside him, a hand on his shoulder. “The police are moving in. I’ve reprogrammed the crowd. They’re gone. We’ve won. We need to leave.”

“And what if that’s not good enough?” Clark growled, still gripping Mannheim, so tired, but even more angry. “He almost…”

“He didn’t.” John gripped his free hand, pulling the rock from it and tossing it away.

It didn’t hit the floor. He turned to see Bart, catching it handily. “Dude… Boyscout, we need to go.”

His anger left him, but so did his strength. He crumpled to the floor, hearing loud voices closing in. 

“Damn it,” he heard Jones growl. “Don’t worry.” Then he was gone!

Clark stood, looking around him. Bruno was gasping on the floor. Tiny was staring from the corner. Rocco was just coming to. 

“Superman?” And Cat was standing, staring at him. “You’re Superman? So, all this time…”

Then the police were crowding in around him, staring at him in his torn clothes, shredded by now, revealing his suit. Sawyer moved in with Turpin, dragging Johnny Stitches in cuffs. It suddenly hit him that barely any time had truly passed. And yet everything had changed. Bruno and Tiny knew who he was… as did Cat. Three lives down to one. He’d wanted things to be simpler. Just not like this.

He sighed. “I suppose you all…”

“Golly!” A dark-haired man stumbled past Turpin and Sawyer, his head bowed. “What happened in here?” He stumbled further in, then looked up at Clark. “Hey! Superman! Gee!”

And Clark nearly swayed where he stood, staring at… himself.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

That sneaky Jones! 

I’ll be wrapping this arc up in the next chapter. I know. That might have seemed to wrap up rather easily. I’ll just say this arc, while seeming like the main meat of the story, was more of a red herring. The story’s not quite over and I have a few surprises (some that might not be very surprising to some of you) up my sleeve.

I won't say what's coming, but things will come full circle and hearken back to the beginning before the end. I just have to get through the rest of it, including a chapter I've been writing in wee little bits and pieces for some time now. So not looking forward to that one. 

I’m going to take a break to update Restless Nights, then I’ll be back to this for what I hope will be the final three chapters, though it may take four. I’ve got everything plotted out, but I can never be sure how many words any given scene is going to take. 

But we are hurtling towards the finish!