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Chapter 1
Addicts feed me so no harm there. :P Liz was spur of the moment and Richard was planned. I have to say that I am surprised mentioned him since I hadn't used him before, lol.
Hopefully your curiosity will be kept going for the time being since that what makes my job fun.
Update granted!
Yes! Another follower to give me cookies. And by cookies I mean reviews, lol.
I'm reeling in now.
I'm sure you will love the way I plan on taking it. You should do a Clark/Lois time travel fic.. like sliders. Yeah! That would be fun. Ideas are aplenty with me today. :P
Since you do historic so well maybe a Roman style fic? That would hot. Slave Lois.. grrrr. j/k... but not really.
~Chapter 1~
June 24, 2020
Smallville
Clark
My sleep was restless, which wasn't uncommon these days. Like an insomniac I caught up on sleep only when I was physically exhausted, which meant almost never since I rarely suffered from such a thing.
The last time I had experienced a full night's rest was after encountering Kryptonite and as much as I needed sleep... I didn't need it that much.
I hoped that I could determine if it was my extracurricular activities, flying, saving, and the occasional trip into space, that were causing this state of non-rest. It was my primary reason for returning to the seclusion that Smallville provided.
One week. One week of absolutely nothing. I was on leave from work and I had made it pretty clear to the League that I would be unreachable. Not that much stood in their way of finding me.
With a sigh I spared a glance at my watch. 4:32 AM. I waited, lying in the queen sized bed that took up half of my parent's old room. The house was sparse in furniture, but this item was one that I had taken the time to fly over.
Fate seemed to realize I was awake. My phone buzzed, vibrating, but didn't ring. This close to my head it sounded like a dull roar. I could have ignored it, never checked the message, but at this time it was probably important... which meant that I really couldn't.
A text. With everyone being so immersed into the world of technology I had done my share of texting... even when it came to vital information. In a motion that was well practiced, I slip my thumb across the screen, pulling up the recent message.
R U OK?
Three words... sort of. I scanned the number, looked at the icon just beside it. A yellow lightning bolt within a red circle. Bart. I was tempted to call him, but remembered the plan. If I called then I was likely to cave, would probably be at the League HQ in no time.
So I settled for texting him back.
Am fine. On sabbatical. Avoid contacting me for the time being. Take care, Kid. I didn't want him to think I was angry, but my message wasn't the most pleasant. I had basically told him to shove off. My second day and already I was feeling guilty for leaving them in the dark. They didn't know where I was or when I would be back.
I recalled the way Oliver had looked at me last week, had touched my shoulder with a sad smile on his face. “You're tired, Clark. You need rest.” And I had taken his idea to heart only because I had been thinking it myself.
Rest from what, though? “From being a hero.” Oliver, able to read me so well, had answered my unspoken question. “You'll end up getting yourself killed... or someone else.” And the straw that had broken the camel's back was the death of the Traver's family. A family of four, a set of twin boys, mom, and dad.
Their car had been loaded down for a planned vacation to New York. They had made the drive from Georgia and had barely crossed the New Jersey line when a Semi had collided with them, T-boned the driver's side.
The impact instantly killed Dad, who had been driver, and Gordon, one of the twins in the back. I had arrived on the scene within moments of the explosion, had taken in the fact that Mom's body had shut down, due to the fire that had engulfed the entire car.
Then there was William, the other twin, who would have turned 12 in another month. My focus had been on the boy, which left one other casualty.
The truck driver.
When I'm tired, I'm also angry. It's usually a mild anger, but it's there, burning just as hot as the fire I had stepped through.
William was probably one of the wisest souls I had ever met. I had been extremely careful pulling him from the car. His voice had reached me over the blaze. “It's okay.” A soft whisper. My eyes scanned him for injuries and there were more than I could count on first glance. Third degree burns on his left side. Two ribs punctured had his lungs. Small eyes were focused on me, with such clarity that I wondered if it was just another nightmare.
No one as injured as the boy had such focus...
His hand clenched against my suit. “Sometimes...ships happen. Daddy... says that.”
And then William had died. Soot covered my suit, my face, and for the life of me I didn't want to put the boy down, but I knew I was wasting time. I walked to the side of the road, set him on the grass. Because the gravel seemed too hard.
My boots carried me away from him and towards the truck. I was at the Semi's door, one hand on the shoulder of the trucker and had barely moved him a centimeter when I realized that a piece of metal had pierced his chest.
And moving him had been a mistake. The piece of metal was sharp, but it had struck him in such a way that internal damage had been minimal. And when I had moved him it had sliced the side of his heart... a small incision, but it had been enough.
The paramedics told me that it was inevitable... that he would have been moved a little if they had attempted to dislodge him. Five deaths. And even though I had seen worse this struck me the hardest.
My eyes snapped open and my head turned on the pillow. The sun was high in the air.
I had slept. Almost six hours this time. While my mind had drifted away I had experienced the car crash once more, almost from an outsider's perspective. I didn't kill the trucker, but I didn't save him either. What was a Hero to do when he was useless to the public?
The nightmare replaced my usual one. Of me and her. A dream that would never be a reality.
I wondered which one was worse...
Metropolis
Lois
“Get me a coffee, black. Please, Olsen.” I was drawing on a white board, mapping out statistics of Superman sightings. It had descended to an unfortunate low. He had been seen twice in the past 48 hours and on opposite sides of the US.
Which meant I needed to make phone calls. He wasn't dead... I thought as I chewed on the end of my dry erase marker.
No. Not dead. Injured was a possibility, but he had seemed capable, according to the people that had spotted him. But he hadn't stayed for any press releases and he hadn't made his typical visits to charity functions.
“Something is wrong...” What was happening in Clark's life? I was so focused as my brain wracked through possibilities that I didn't even hear the door open and close.
“Lois? You look worn out.” Olsen's voice startled me and I jumped, almost knocking the coffee from his hand. It wasn't often that he called me that, but I didn't point it out. Instead I mustered a small smile and took the cup.
“I am. Do you have any recent Superman photos? Within the past week, I mean?” Jimmy was my best bet on getting photos of the flying wonder.
“About two... when he was passing through Metropolis six days ago.” My teeth ground together. That meant they wouldn't be the greatest shots... but they would have to do.
“Get them for me. I want them as up close and personal as you can get.” Jimmy was out the door before I had finished the sentence. God bless that boy.
I started to reach for the desk phone, then pulled back. No... this wasn't an office phone call. This was personal. I grabbed my cell, had to search through the contacts for a number I hadn't called in a while.
“Hello, Legs.” He had picked up after the second ring. At the old nickname I smiled.
“Hello, Oliver.” I paused for a moment, trying to figure out how I would best phrase my question. “Where is Clark?” Well... that was subtle enough.
“Kent?” Don't play with my emotions, Oliver.
“No, Clark Gable. How many Clark's do you know?” He laughed, despite my sarcasm. Of course the man always loved to have fun...
“I don't know. He's... resting.” Resting? What the hell does that mean? I opened my mouth to ask if he had been exposed to Kryptonite lately, but decided against it. Though it seemed to run across the rumor mill that the substance could kill him it was still something I didn't want to say out loud. The word always sent shivers down my spine.
“Yeah. The World has noticed.” Or they would soon enough. “Is he alright?”
“Physically, he's doing fine. Never better.” There was something that Oliver wasn't telling me, but then again we hadn't really had a long conversation in quite some time. A pang of guilt weighed on me and I reminded myself to mention a trip to see my cousin and him at the end of the call.
For now there were more pressing matters. “And... Emotionally. Mentally?”
“You know him better than me, Lois.” I couldn't agree with that. Clark and I hadn't talked since the day he had moved out of our apartment, the end of something that wasn't in the cards to begin with. Not that I had anticipated us 'still being friends'. Too much history... too much heartache. “Where do you think he would go when he needs to get away from the world?”
“Outer Space.. he's certainly capable.” Another laugh. “Seriously, Ollie. I have Chief breathing down my neck for me to get a story and even if it's not one I want to publish... I need to know if Superman is out of commission. The World needs to know.”
“I don't know. I can't say. My only recommendation is that you treat this … investigation delicately. Superman likes his life the way it is. But I think it can be better.” Since when did Oliver become all-knowing? On better thought, since when did he start giving out advice?
Since he took over Bruce's role as second in command of the League probably.
“Still there, Legs?”
“Yeah.” The word was released on a sigh as I stroke my forehead.
“I'm not going to tell you where he is because if you see him then he'll know who gave that info out and the last thing I need is a tired Kryptonian showing up in Star City. Just tread carefully, Lane. He's not himself.” And then Oliver Queen hung up on me.
I set the phone on it's cradle, my mind working rapidly. Where did Clark go when he needed to get away from the world? The Fortress? It wasn't exactly the most comforting location. My eyes widened in realization then narrowed, his refuge clear.
Comfort... He needed comfort.
I took out a notepad and started jotting down what I had to do. Car? I scratched that off the list. I didn't have one anymore and going out to rent one would have been more trouble than I had time for. Plane. Flight would be the fastest option, which would put me there in less than two hours.
And I still needed to leave someone in charge while I was gone. My teeth ground together. Grant. She was my best option, having tenure... and despite the fact that we both hated each other's guts she was competent enough.
I doubted she would print her story, knowing it would come back to bite her in the ass once Perry returned.
Quickly, I scanned through Perry's Rolodex, finding the name of a person I hadn't ever thought I would ask a favor from. Two rings and the man picked up. Without waiting for a 'hello' I rushed ahead with, “Richard, it's Lois. I need a favor.”
Jackie, I'm so glad you're inspired again! I've been on the lookout for a new story from you ever since you completed your last one. Needless to say, I'm addicted to your fics! 
Having said that, this story is no different. But I'd be lying if I didn't say that your last to replies to two of your readers hadn't caught my attention.
Richard...the mention of his name alone makes me nervous. *bites nails* And Liz...I'm curious to see how "important" she'll be to this story and in Clark's life.
Update soon!!!
Having said that, this story is no different. But I'd be lying if I didn't say that your last to replies to two of your readers hadn't caught my attention.
Richard...the mention of his name alone makes me nervous. *bites nails* And Liz...I'm curious to see how "important" she'll be to this story and in Clark's life.
Update soon!!!
Hopefully your curiosity will be kept going for the time being since that what makes my job fun.
Yes! Another follower to give me cookies. And by cookies I mean reviews, lol.
I'm reeling in now.
I'm sure you will love the way I plan on taking it. You should do a Clark/Lois time travel fic.. like sliders. Yeah! That would be fun. Ideas are aplenty with me today. :P
Since you do historic so well maybe a Roman style fic? That would hot. Slave Lois.. grrrr. j/k... but not really.
June 24, 2020
Smallville
Clark
My sleep was restless, which wasn't uncommon these days. Like an insomniac I caught up on sleep only when I was physically exhausted, which meant almost never since I rarely suffered from such a thing.
The last time I had experienced a full night's rest was after encountering Kryptonite and as much as I needed sleep... I didn't need it that much.
I hoped that I could determine if it was my extracurricular activities, flying, saving, and the occasional trip into space, that were causing this state of non-rest. It was my primary reason for returning to the seclusion that Smallville provided.
One week. One week of absolutely nothing. I was on leave from work and I had made it pretty clear to the League that I would be unreachable. Not that much stood in their way of finding me.
With a sigh I spared a glance at my watch. 4:32 AM. I waited, lying in the queen sized bed that took up half of my parent's old room. The house was sparse in furniture, but this item was one that I had taken the time to fly over.
Fate seemed to realize I was awake. My phone buzzed, vibrating, but didn't ring. This close to my head it sounded like a dull roar. I could have ignored it, never checked the message, but at this time it was probably important... which meant that I really couldn't.
A text. With everyone being so immersed into the world of technology I had done my share of texting... even when it came to vital information. In a motion that was well practiced, I slip my thumb across the screen, pulling up the recent message.
R U OK?
Three words... sort of. I scanned the number, looked at the icon just beside it. A yellow lightning bolt within a red circle. Bart. I was tempted to call him, but remembered the plan. If I called then I was likely to cave, would probably be at the League HQ in no time.
So I settled for texting him back.
Am fine. On sabbatical. Avoid contacting me for the time being. Take care, Kid. I didn't want him to think I was angry, but my message wasn't the most pleasant. I had basically told him to shove off. My second day and already I was feeling guilty for leaving them in the dark. They didn't know where I was or when I would be back.
I recalled the way Oliver had looked at me last week, had touched my shoulder with a sad smile on his face. “You're tired, Clark. You need rest.” And I had taken his idea to heart only because I had been thinking it myself.
Rest from what, though? “From being a hero.” Oliver, able to read me so well, had answered my unspoken question. “You'll end up getting yourself killed... or someone else.” And the straw that had broken the camel's back was the death of the Traver's family. A family of four, a set of twin boys, mom, and dad.
Their car had been loaded down for a planned vacation to New York. They had made the drive from Georgia and had barely crossed the New Jersey line when a Semi had collided with them, T-boned the driver's side.
The impact instantly killed Dad, who had been driver, and Gordon, one of the twins in the back. I had arrived on the scene within moments of the explosion, had taken in the fact that Mom's body had shut down, due to the fire that had engulfed the entire car.
Then there was William, the other twin, who would have turned 12 in another month. My focus had been on the boy, which left one other casualty.
The truck driver.
When I'm tired, I'm also angry. It's usually a mild anger, but it's there, burning just as hot as the fire I had stepped through.
William was probably one of the wisest souls I had ever met. I had been extremely careful pulling him from the car. His voice had reached me over the blaze. “It's okay.” A soft whisper. My eyes scanned him for injuries and there were more than I could count on first glance. Third degree burns on his left side. Two ribs punctured had his lungs. Small eyes were focused on me, with such clarity that I wondered if it was just another nightmare.
No one as injured as the boy had such focus...
His hand clenched against my suit. “Sometimes...ships happen. Daddy... says that.”
And then William had died. Soot covered my suit, my face, and for the life of me I didn't want to put the boy down, but I knew I was wasting time. I walked to the side of the road, set him on the grass. Because the gravel seemed too hard.
My boots carried me away from him and towards the truck. I was at the Semi's door, one hand on the shoulder of the trucker and had barely moved him a centimeter when I realized that a piece of metal had pierced his chest.
And moving him had been a mistake. The piece of metal was sharp, but it had struck him in such a way that internal damage had been minimal. And when I had moved him it had sliced the side of his heart... a small incision, but it had been enough.
The paramedics told me that it was inevitable... that he would have been moved a little if they had attempted to dislodge him. Five deaths. And even though I had seen worse this struck me the hardest.
My eyes snapped open and my head turned on the pillow. The sun was high in the air.
I had slept. Almost six hours this time. While my mind had drifted away I had experienced the car crash once more, almost from an outsider's perspective. I didn't kill the trucker, but I didn't save him either. What was a Hero to do when he was useless to the public?
The nightmare replaced my usual one. Of me and her. A dream that would never be a reality.
I wondered which one was worse...
Metropolis
Lois
“Get me a coffee, black. Please, Olsen.” I was drawing on a white board, mapping out statistics of Superman sightings. It had descended to an unfortunate low. He had been seen twice in the past 48 hours and on opposite sides of the US.
Which meant I needed to make phone calls. He wasn't dead... I thought as I chewed on the end of my dry erase marker.
No. Not dead. Injured was a possibility, but he had seemed capable, according to the people that had spotted him. But he hadn't stayed for any press releases and he hadn't made his typical visits to charity functions.
“Something is wrong...” What was happening in Clark's life? I was so focused as my brain wracked through possibilities that I didn't even hear the door open and close.
“Lois? You look worn out.” Olsen's voice startled me and I jumped, almost knocking the coffee from his hand. It wasn't often that he called me that, but I didn't point it out. Instead I mustered a small smile and took the cup.
“I am. Do you have any recent Superman photos? Within the past week, I mean?” Jimmy was my best bet on getting photos of the flying wonder.
“About two... when he was passing through Metropolis six days ago.” My teeth ground together. That meant they wouldn't be the greatest shots... but they would have to do.
“Get them for me. I want them as up close and personal as you can get.” Jimmy was out the door before I had finished the sentence. God bless that boy.
I started to reach for the desk phone, then pulled back. No... this wasn't an office phone call. This was personal. I grabbed my cell, had to search through the contacts for a number I hadn't called in a while.
“Hello, Legs.” He had picked up after the second ring. At the old nickname I smiled.
“Hello, Oliver.” I paused for a moment, trying to figure out how I would best phrase my question. “Where is Clark?” Well... that was subtle enough.
“Kent?” Don't play with my emotions, Oliver.
“No, Clark Gable. How many Clark's do you know?” He laughed, despite my sarcasm. Of course the man always loved to have fun...
“I don't know. He's... resting.” Resting? What the hell does that mean? I opened my mouth to ask if he had been exposed to Kryptonite lately, but decided against it. Though it seemed to run across the rumor mill that the substance could kill him it was still something I didn't want to say out loud. The word always sent shivers down my spine.
“Yeah. The World has noticed.” Or they would soon enough. “Is he alright?”
“Physically, he's doing fine. Never better.” There was something that Oliver wasn't telling me, but then again we hadn't really had a long conversation in quite some time. A pang of guilt weighed on me and I reminded myself to mention a trip to see my cousin and him at the end of the call.
For now there were more pressing matters. “And... Emotionally. Mentally?”
“You know him better than me, Lois.” I couldn't agree with that. Clark and I hadn't talked since the day he had moved out of our apartment, the end of something that wasn't in the cards to begin with. Not that I had anticipated us 'still being friends'. Too much history... too much heartache. “Where do you think he would go when he needs to get away from the world?”
“Outer Space.. he's certainly capable.” Another laugh. “Seriously, Ollie. I have Chief breathing down my neck for me to get a story and even if it's not one I want to publish... I need to know if Superman is out of commission. The World needs to know.”
“I don't know. I can't say. My only recommendation is that you treat this … investigation delicately. Superman likes his life the way it is. But I think it can be better.” Since when did Oliver become all-knowing? On better thought, since when did he start giving out advice?
Since he took over Bruce's role as second in command of the League probably.
“Still there, Legs?”
“Yeah.” The word was released on a sigh as I stroke my forehead.
“I'm not going to tell you where he is because if you see him then he'll know who gave that info out and the last thing I need is a tired Kryptonian showing up in Star City. Just tread carefully, Lane. He's not himself.” And then Oliver Queen hung up on me.
I set the phone on it's cradle, my mind working rapidly. Where did Clark go when he needed to get away from the world? The Fortress? It wasn't exactly the most comforting location. My eyes widened in realization then narrowed, his refuge clear.
Comfort... He needed comfort.
I took out a notepad and started jotting down what I had to do. Car? I scratched that off the list. I didn't have one anymore and going out to rent one would have been more trouble than I had time for. Plane. Flight would be the fastest option, which would put me there in less than two hours.
And I still needed to leave someone in charge while I was gone. My teeth ground together. Grant. She was my best option, having tenure... and despite the fact that we both hated each other's guts she was competent enough.
I doubted she would print her story, knowing it would come back to bite her in the ass once Perry returned.
Quickly, I scanned through Perry's Rolodex, finding the name of a person I hadn't ever thought I would ask a favor from. Two rings and the man picked up. Without waiting for a 'hello' I rushed ahead with, “Richard, it's Lois. I need a favor.”
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