Superman Movieverse Forum

‘He was very badly hurt,’ Bruce had said about Clark. He wouldn’t say any more, spending the flight back to Gotham working on his laptop with his phone in his ear.

Lois was left alone with her thoughts. Clark was Superman. If Clark was alive, then why the charade of Superman’s funeral? ‘He was badly hurt…’

Maybe Superman really is dead.

Clark… God, I was awful to him. Everyone knew what a crush he had on me, how much he put up with, and how enamored I was of the bright and flashy hero. I never even saw him standing in front of me every day. It never even occurred to me what he really meant when he said ‘I’m always around.’

How could I have been so blind? And Jason… Jason was drawn to him like he knew they were related. Like he knew Clark was his father.

The helicopter set down on its usual place on the lawn. Lois wiped away the tears she hadn’t even realized she was shedding. She took a deep breath and hurried into the house. There were things she had to tend to before worrying about Clark.

Alfred had been under strict orders not to let Jason watch the funeral coverage on the TV so she was understandably curious as to how her five year-old and the aging British butler had gotten along while she and Bruce were in Metropolis.

She needn’t have worried.

“Mommy, Mommy!” Jason yelled as soon as they were in the door. “I helped Mister Alfred make cookies and then I watched the Alvin Movie, and then a big black car came and Mister Clark was in it and I helped Mister Alfred help Mister Clark and…”

“Whoa,” Lois ordered. “Clark is here?” She glanced over at Alfred who nodded.

“He arrived about an hour ago,” Alfred informed them. “I put him in the suite next to yours.”

Clark is here. “How is he?” Lois asked, almost afraid of the answer. ‘He was badly hurt…’

“As well as can be expected, I imagine,” Alfred told her. “I was just preparing something for him when you arrived.” He turned to Bruce. “Doctor Klein would like to speak with you at your earliest convenience.”

“I’ll take care of that right now,” Bruce promised and disappeared into his den.

Lois turned to Alfred. “You said you were fixing him something. How about I take it up to him?”

“You’re a guest. I’m not in the habit of making guests work,” he protested mildly.

“Please?” Lois asked. She wasn’t sure why she felt it was important, but it was.

After a moment he relented.  “Let me finish putting the tray together.”

Jason pulled on his mother’s skirt. “Mommy, Mister Clark started to cry when he saw me and he hugged me real tight but it didn’t hurt…” Jason stopped and gave his mother a worried look. “Mommy, why did Mister Clark cry?”

“Because he was so happy to see you and that you were okay,” Lois managed to say.



The tray was cheery with a bright napkin and a bud vase. The meal was chicken soup with home baked bread and Lois had a suspicion that Alfred was one of those who thought chicken soup was the equivalent of penicillin for all your ills.

Jason had wanted to come with her but she managed to dissuade him by telling she and Clark had grown-up things to discuss.

He seemed to accept her statement then quite innocently asked, “Mommy, why did the bad bald man hurt Mister Clark?”

Lois wasn’t sure what to say. How was she supposed to explain what had happened in the newsroom, that Clark had stepped in front of a bullet to keep Luthor from murdering a small boy?  ‘One flying freak is more than enough for this planet,’ Luthor had said.

“The bad man hurt Clark because Clark wouldn’t let him hurt you,” Lois finally said.

“Is that why they blew up our car?” he asked.

How did he know that? She nodded, afraid to speak for fear of asking him questions she wasn't prepared to hear the answers to.

“Is Mister Clark my daddy too?”

Lois nodded again. Jason didn’t seem surprised at her admission.

“Mister Alfred said we can’t go home because it isn’t safe,” Jason said. “Will Daddy come with us when we move to our new house?”

“I don’t know, munchkin,” Lois admitted, trying to keep from breaking into tears. How was she going to explain to her son that the man he’d always considered his father wasn’t likely to want them back in his life.

“Oh,” Jason said before he hurried off to ‘help’ Alfred.

She knocked on the door to the suite next to hers. There was no answer, but she hadn’t really expected one. The door was unlocked and she rolled the cart in. Alfred had told her Clark was in the left-hand room. That door was half-open.

She knocked on that door, but again there was no response. She pushed the door open and peered inside. Instead of the queen-sized bed she had in her room, there was a hospital bed with several monitors on a rack beside it.  The EKG was beeping along at forty beats per minute, the same as it had when he was in the hospital after the New Krypton incident.

Only that time she hadn’t known who it really was laying in the hospital bed. ‘Jason is your son. He needs you, and so do I,’ she had whispered to him, not knowing if he could hear her. She suspected he had, but he never confirmed it.

“Clark?”

The gaunt, dark-haired figure on the bed turned his head to look at her. The bruises and cuts on his face from the beating were still evident. There was a noticeable lump on his jaw. A cotton robe hid any other visible injuries. His horn-rim glasses were nowhere to be seen. ‘He was badly hurt…’ But he should have healed up by now.

“Lois?” His voice was weak and he sounded like he almost didn’t believe his eyes.

“Alfred made a tray for you,” she said. “I brought it up.”

“Bruce kept telling me you were alive but I didn’t believe him until I saw Jason here,” Clark said. “I thought…”

“He got Jason and me away before Luthor could get to us,” Lois explained. “You know, for a dissolute playboy, he certainly comes through in an emergency.”

“Bruce is full of hidden talents,” Clark told her. He seemed tired. His head fell back against the pillows.

“I hope you’re hungry,” Lois said, trying to sound cheery. “Alfred and Jason worked hard to put this together.”  She brought the cart closer and set the tray on the bed-table, moving it in front of him.

“I haven’t been very hungry,” Clark told her.

“Well, you have to eat otherwise you’ll never get…” She stopped, suddenly aware of what she was going to say. ‘… get your strength back.’ Superman was solar powered. He didn’t need food.

“It smells great,” he said, picking up the spoon awkwardly in his left hand. That was when Lois realized his robe had hidden the bandages that swathed his right arm.

She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. She had never been this nervous around Clark before.  “Bruce said you were badly hurt. How badly?”

He paused a long moment before answering. “I don’t think they’ve given me a full inventory of the damage, but aside from being shot twice, I had four broken ribs, both lungs punctured, a lacerated liver, bruised heart muscle, two cracked vertebra in my lower back, multiple fractures in my right arm, broken pelvis and bruised kidneys. Oh, and my jaw is pinned together in two places.”

At his recitation, Lois started to feel tears coming into her eyes. “Oh Clark, I’m so sorry,” she murmured. No one had even tried to help him. They had all been too afraid of Luthor and his men. “We all just stood there…”

“Luthor would have killed anyone who stepped forward to help. He wanted everyone to feel helpless. That’s one of the ways he gets his kicks,” Clark said. “I’m surprised he didn’t finish me off right then.”

“We think he wanted you alive long enough for him to grab Jason, kill Lois, and make sure you knew about it,” Bruce said from the doorway.  “Luckily, Luthor may be a genius, but he’s still a thug. I don’t think it ever occurred to him that you might have people looking out after you because they actually care about you as a person.”

“Bruce, I…” Clark began.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Bruce warned. “Metropolis buried Superman today.”

“It was a lovely ceremony,” Lois added. “The city went all out.”

“Is Superman really dead?” Clark asked softly.

Bruce sighed. “We’re not sure. Doctor Klein thinks he’s isolated the reason you’re not healing at your usual speed. It looks like it wasn't just kryptonite in the bullets Luthor used. There was also a toxin, almost like a virus, keeping your Kryptonian organelles from functioning properly. So far you’re holding your own against it and given time, your body may be able to overcome it. Or Klein may be able to develop a treatment. But for now you’re essentially human.”

“So, Luthor won after all?” Clark said. “He murdered Superman.”

“We’re letting him think so,” Bruce said.

“But there’s more, isn’t there?”

“The New Troy D.A. hasn’t announced it yet, but I have my own sources,” Bruce said somberly. “Luthor has agreed to turn state’s evidence against his accomplices and has agreed to plead guilty to two counts of conspiracy to commit murder in trade for admission into the Witness Security program. He’s also agreed to help the D.O.D. unlock the secrets of Kryptonian weapons technology.”

“So he agrees to help them and he walks?” Lois asked. She couldn’t help the outrage she felt growing in her. Luthor destroyed Clark’s life, her life, her son’s life. He traumatized everyone close to her and now he was going to escape justice?

“Luckily, no,” Bruce told her. “He’ll be spending his prison time in a high security unit. Chances are he’ll be spending it in a small cell, segregated from the other prisoners. He won’t be simply walking away.”

“He’s escaped prison more than once. It took Superman to find him last time,” Clark reminded him. “And he still managed to wriggle himself free.”

“I can’t guarantee he’ll stay put,” Bruce admitted. “But Luthor’s not the only genius on this planet. I think we’ll be able to hold him.”

The billionaire straightened up, nodding to the tray in front of Clark. “You’d better eat that or Alfred will be extremely put out.”

Clark picked up the spoon again and stirred it around the bowl. “What happens now?”

“You need to get healed up enough to leave,” Bruce said. “Then I think it depends on the two of you. Officially, Clark Kent, Lois Lane and Jason Lane are dead. So are Martha Kent and Ben Hubbard. Now, I can arrange for new identities, but do I make arrangements for you together or separately? And if it is separately, well I think you both know the drill.”

Bruce nodded to both of them and closed the door.

Now what are we supposed to do?

Clark was still playing with his food instead of eating. “I’m sorry,” he said finally.

“For what? For being the one to stand up to Luthor’s madness?” Lois asked. “For getting shot protecting your own son?”

“For everything,” he said. “For leaving six years ago, for not telling you the truth when you told me about Jason, for so many things. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I’m sure you didn’t,” she said. She swallowed hard. “Did I know who it was I was making love to when…”

“Yes. You knew everything.”

“Then why don’t I remember it?”

“You were hurting so bad when we got back to Metropolis,” he said. “And I was such an idiot. I thought… I was told that it was impossible for me to invest myself in one person and not abandon my ‘work’. I believed them. I probably shouldn’t have, I mean doctors and police and soldiers manage to do their work and still have families. But I didn’t believe I could do it and I broke your heart.”

She had a sudden flash of memory, or was it a dream? ‘People do this all the time. No regrets, you know?  I mean I did it, didn't I? I got the man I love to love me?’

“You didn’t tell me why I don’t remember it.”

He gave her a guilty look. “Something I never told you, but Kryptonians are psychic a little bit, or maybe empathic is a better word for it, but they become mentally linked to their partners, enough that they feel the other person. Jor-El didn’t think I could establish a link to a human but I did, with you. I tried to suppress it so you wouldn’t hurt so much. Instead, it blocked your memories of our time together.”

She wasn't sure if she should be furious or not. He had unilaterally made the decision to break it off - at least she was fairly certain that was the case - then robbed her of even her memories of their time together. She knew he’d had only the best of intentions, but sometimes his high-handedness just made her furious. “Can you give me back my memories?” she asked, trying to keep her voice calm.

His head was down and he wouldn’t look at her. “I don’t know. I suspect the memories are there. You just can’t access them the normal way. Maybe like how things learned when you’re drunk may not be accessible unless you’re drunk.”

She sighed. “My god, how can two people be so messed up?”

“I guess we’ll be telling Bruce we’ll be going separately?” he said softly. She stared at him, but his head was still down, avoiding her gaze.

“Like hell we will. You are not getting off that easily. We have a son. He needs a father. He needs his father.”

“What about Richard?”

“What about him?” she asked flatly.

“He’s your fiancé.”

“Was my fiancé,” she corrected. “Apparently he didn’t take Luthor’s little bombshell about Jason’s paternity very well.” She chuckled drily. “Even though he was probably the only one in the newsroom who didn’t think you were Jason’s father, especially seeing as how Jason liked being around you. It was only a matter of time before he figured it out and we would have had a major blow out.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re not the one who was delusional.” She moved closer and sat down on the edge of the mattress.  “Bruce is right. If you don’t eat, Alfred is going to be annoyed.”

“I’m not really all that hungry,” he responded. But he grabbed the spoon again and took a taste of the soup.

Lois waited until he was nearly finished before speaking again. “Why didn’t you say goodbye? When you left for Krypton, Superman didn’t say goodbye.”

“I was afraid you would make the connection again between Clark and Superman if we both said we were leaving. I was also afraid you’d talk me out of it.”

“Damn straight,” she responded.

‘Goodbye Lois,’ Clark said. She didn’t pay him much attention as she composed her next sentence. It was a great exposé on mismanagement within Metropolis’s Child Protective Services. She nodded at Clark’s statement then the tone of his voice struck her – he sounded sad and even a little disappointed. Clark never sounded sad. He was the newsroom’s own Pollyanna. She looked up and realized he was already heading toward the doors. She ran after him, catching up with him at the elevators.

‘Clark, is something wrong?’

‘No, I’m just going away for a while, traveling,’ he said. But she sensed there was more to it. His expression was somber.

‘You’re not in trouble, are you?’ she asked. She couldn’t imagine a reason why Clark would leave the Daily Planet. It was his dream job.

‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m not in any sort of trouble. I just need to get away for a while. I’ll send you some postcards.’

‘Then it’s au revoir, not goodbye.’

He smiled. ‘Au revoir then.’ The elevator doors opened and he stepped inside, giving her a little wave. ‘Have a good life, Lois.’

The elevator doors closed and his final words hit home. ‘Have a good life, Lois.’

He wasn't leaving on a short trip. He wasn’t planning on coming back.

‘Clark!’

“Lois?” Clark was watching her worriedly. It was odd. Without his glasses he didn’t really look like the Clark who sat across from her in the newsroom, but he didn’t look much like Superman either.

“You know, I was ready to chase you down and talk you out of taking off, but I couldn’t find you,” Lois said.

“I was gone before the elevator reached the ground floor.”

“We were both such idiots,” Lois said. “Right after you saved the 777, Richard asked if I had been in love with Superman. I lied to him. I don’t know why I did. I knew he’d figure it out, but I lied anyway. I never stopped loving you.”

“Lois, Superman is dead. I’m just plain ole’ Clark. And I don’t know if you can…”

“If I can what? Be in love with a normal man?” she asked.

‘Maybe we should hire a bodyguard,’ he said, blood dripping from the cut above his eye and from his nose.

‘I don’t want a bodyguard. I want the man I fell in love with,’ she replied, helping him to his feet.

‘I know Lois, and I wish he were here.’

“Clark, trust me on this one,” she said in mock seriousness. “‘Normal’ is not a word I would ever use for you.”