Thank you SO MUCH,
![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
louisemcgregor for a quick look over this, and to priwskywalker, for a throghout Beta Read! :D
FIC: CRASH
FANDOM: Superman
DISCLAIMER: Superman was created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster, and is the property of DC Comics and Warner Bros. I do not wish to hurt any copyright, I just wish to have some fun with their characters. I'm making no money out of this.
TIMELINE: Set during the very ending and after Superman Returns.
SHIP: Clark/Lois
SINOPSIS: What if Superman didn't erase Lois's memory, but merely locked it down somewhere deep inside her mind? And what would set Lois's memory free?
AUTHOR: TheRealMaraJade
DISTRIBUTION: You may link to it here, but you may NOT post elsewhere without my permission! To ask my permission, PM me!
FEEDBACK: is appreciated! Thanks!
***
CRASH
CRASH!
Lois slowly opened her eyes. She had been fully expecting to feel something crashing on her head, probably killing her. She was definitely not expecting to hear something crashing.
Neither was she expecting to see what lay before her eyes.
The grand piano that had stood in the center of the room quite pompously laid completely broken in front of her. On top of Lex's goon's body. Dead body. How that had happened befuddled her.
She looked at her son, who had been sitting at the piano, having an asthma attack while helplessly watching her mother's life in jeopardy.
He was standing, his arms outstretched, no longer having an asthma attack. Had he...?
Lois Lane, a woman who always knew what so say or ask was speechless. Had her son just threw a piano across the room? A very heavy piano?
That was impossible! The only person in the world capable of doing something like this was...
She froze. That was impossible. Well, perhaps not as impossible as her son throwing a piano across the room, but...a burning question formed in her mind.
What if Jason was Superman's son?
She felt lightheaded. Suddenly a nauseous sensation overcame her, while she felt like she was being transported to a very bright and cold white place. The coldness was replaced by warmth when someone hugged her – she knew that warmth. They were lying in a bed with silver sheets. They were dining. He stood in his blue suit and red cape in front of a semi-transparent blond-haired woman. They were flying, she snuggled up in his arms. They were in a hotel room, only instead of his blue tights he was wearing a three-piece suit...
He was Clark Kent!
Her lost memories hit her hard, and once they were all restored in her mind, she was jerked back to reality. If she hadn't been lying on the floor, she might have fallen, so off-balanced she was feeling.
She heard a noise coming from the staircase, and vaguely registered two of Lex's people descending it.
She couldn't stop repeating in her head, “Clark is Superman, Clark is Superman, CLARK IS SUPERMAN!”
She was jerked away from her stupor when one of Lex's goons picked her roughly up and marched her away from the room.
***
She was thrown inside the pantry, Jason following close behind.
“Honey are you ok? Are you hurt?” she asked her son, worried.
“I'm fine,” he answered. After certifying herself that he was indeed fine, she stood up and marched up to the door.
“Open this door! Open it!” She demanded, banging on the door.
Obviously they ignored her.
“Could you help mommy open the door?” Lois asked, though she was not entirely sure from where that had come from – she still hadn't processed that Jason, her Jason, was Superman's son.
Clark's son.
“Sorry.”
“It's going to be ok, ok? It's going to be ok.” Lois said, even though she was definitely not sure it would. She would kill Clark when she met him again. She needed to hit something right now.
And it seemed a good time as any to do it now, before whatever Lex Luthor was planning for them came to be, because, whatever it was, it was not going to be good.
She stood up and grabbed a pasta roll, and started hitting it against the door. It broke and she yelled in frustation.
She would kill Clark.
She sat down, infuriated. She was mad at him for leaving her for five years. She was mad at herself for not realizing that Superman was, in fact, Clark Kent – and she considered herself a bright and cunning reporter! She was mad that her memories of their time together had been erased, regardless of her feelings, due to some stupidity about honor. And she was mad that they had been erased without her knowledge or consent!
Sure, he would probably come up with something about honor, sacrifice, and her safety, but that didn't lessen her temper. In fact, it only made it worse, because all that shouldn't matter when they loved each other so much.
She jerked her head upwards. Asserting her heart and her feelings, she came to the undeniable conclusion that yes, she did love him. Superman, or Clark Kent. No matter how angry she was with him right now, deep down she loved him.
She felt sick. Sick to be in love with a man who had never told her his true identity until it was impossible not to when he hadn't burnt his hand in that fireplace. Sick to still be in love with him when a good man, a very good man was in love with her, and had raised Jason with her, like he was his own son.
Richard.
How would she tell him? How would she tell him everything without him getting hurt in the process? What would she do?
And why was she even considering these possibilities? By all means, she had the right to simply ignore everything that she had just remembered, finally marry Richard, and continue raising Jason with him, like they had been doing.
But that was a problem. Jason wasn't his son, and sooner or later, that would become quite evident, when he started to show his superpowers.
Besides, she felt like she would be deceiving him – so far she had thought that Jason was Richard's son all along, but now...she couldn't deceive him, it wasn't fair after all he had given her – his truthful and loyal heart.
And she couldn't deny what her heart was screaming at her.
She couldn't face Richard right now.
Jason stood up in front of her and walked towards the door. He lifted the door jam, and it opened.
Lois stiffled a gasp when she saw that Richard was on the other side of the door, and that it had been him in fact who had opened the door. She got up, ran to him and gave him a hug.
She would deal with all the running thoughts inside her head later.
They were suddenly jerked sideways as the yatch suddenly lurched.
***
She woke up to find herself inside what could only be Richard's seaplane. She felt her head throbbing, and vaguely – although she had no problem remembering with clarity her newly found memories – remembered water, lots of water and her and Richard's attempt to flee the sinking yatch with Jason.
Jason! She got up and was glad to see her son sitting behind Richard.
“Metropolis tower, this is sea plane november-seven-two-four-one-hotel, do you copy?” she heard Richard repeating.
She checked upon Jason, saw that he was all right even though a bit shaken, and sat on the copilot's seat.
“Lois! Are you all right?” Richard seemed relieved to see her awake.
“Yeah...” she buckled herself in. “What happened?”
“Superman,” Richard replied, like that explained everything.
“Where is he?” she asked, more eagerly than she wanted – after all, she still wanted to kill him.
“He went back.”
“Mind over muscle, Ms. Lane. Mind over muscle.” She remembered Luthor, brandishing a large piece of Kryptonite.
All thoughts of hate and anger towards Superman vanished. “Richard, we have to go turn around!”
“What? No!”
“We have to turn the plane around!” She yelled again. She actually felt guilty for wanting to kill him until just a few seconds ago – after all, she wanted to kill him figuratively, and Luthor intended to actually kill him– and quite brutally, she was sure.
“Lois! We barely made it out there, and now you want me to go back?”
“Yes, please.” She remembered their time together in his Fortress of Solitude, something she hadn't had any recollection until now. It felt her heart ache – for him with love, and for Richard with guilt. She continued, almost in a whisper. “He will die.”
“All right, hold on.” Richard said, resigned.
***
She plunged herself into the cold water, looking for him, until she saw a shadow of red ahead. She reached for his cape, and pulled him. With difficulty – he was quite heavy – she swam until they surfaced. Richard quickly joined them to help her with her cargo.
Once inside the plane, she sat on the floor with his head on her lap. He was slipping into and out of consciousness. Richard was quickly at the pilot's seat, trying to bring then into the air again.
She looked at his face. Clark's face. She still couldn't believe she had never recognized him. How dumb did she have to be to have been fooled by a pair of glasses? How blind?
“I must have been blind with love', she thought and immediately snorted, shaking her head to move that cheesy and stupid thought away. She was still mad at him for what he had done to her. It had been worst than not saying goodbye.
Although now she had a good idea why it would have been difficult for him to say goodbye to her, and she understood what Clark had meant with that talk they'd had. She was also acutely aware that while she thought she had been confiding in a friend, she had been confiding to the man himself. She felt angry but also a bit sorry for him, for the first time since remembering what had happened between them - he'd had to hide his true feelings from her, all this time. He had come back to find out that she had moved on, and to see her with another man who loved her.
On that day that she had talked about Superman to him, he had to pretend that he didn't know what or who she was talking about, no matter how hurt he was. He had to hide his hurt and listed to her like a good friend would have. Nevertheless, he had used the opportunity to effectively tell her why he hadn't said goodbye.
The seaplane sped in the water but didn't take off despite Richard's attempts.
“Richard,” she called.
“I'm trying, it's too choppy!”
The plane took off, but then went into a free fall in the air. Lois was thrown against the wall. Richard pulled at the lever, and Lois thought all was lost, when the plane finally leveled and took off.
She had Clark's head on her lap again. When he didn't start to get better after being distanced from that sick island, she started to look for any signs of injuries. A piece of Kryptonite was jammed into his back.
She reached for Richard's toolkit and looked for something that could be used to pry the Kryptonite off his back. When she started to pull it off, he started to groan. Every groan pulled at her heartstrings, and she tried hard not to cry. The pain she was inadvertently inflicting on him was necessary to save him, but it pained her to do so. Suddenly, she didn't feel like yelling at him for erasing her memory, for leaving her, for anything that had happened.
She managed to pry the kryptonite off, and stood up. Opening the seaplane's door, she threw it out into the ocean. She went to him again and sat, bringing his head once more to rest into her lap.
His eyes finally slid into focus. “How did you find me?”
If she hadn't seen him herself, floating in the water, she would have thought her son had used x-ray vision to find his father. His father. Lois could only look at Jason.
“Thank you,” he said. Getting up, he walked to the door she had just closed to open it again.
“What are you doing?” she asked, desperately, so anguished that for a moment she forgot that Richard was there and could misinterpret her words – or, actually, interpret them quite accurately.
“I have to go back,” he said, with all the strength that was left in him. He looked sickly pale.
“You're hurt,” she tried to reason with him, although she knew that he had already made up his mind, and nothing she could say or do would change his resolve. He always seemed prepared to fight evil no matter how much it cost him. No matter the sacrifice.
He looked in her eyes deeply. In his ocean blue eyes she saw intense love, worry, bravery, selflessness, determination, and – surprisingly – fear. “Bye, Lois,” he said.
She realized that this could be the last time they saw each other. And she felt her throat tighten, unable to repeat his words and tell him goodbye. It was too difficult, too painful to face the possibility of never seeing him again, let alone acknowledging it in words.
And then it dawned on her. She suddenly understood why he had done all that. She knew now why he had erased her memory, why he had left without saying goodbye.
He flew. She ran to the door, her words still stuck in her throat. She wanted to scream that she loved him, that she remembered everything that had happened between them, and that Jason was the fruit of their love, but she couldn't. It hurt too much to say goodbye.
***
Everyone saw him, his body falling from the sky. Everyone was glued to their televisions sets waiting to hear news about his health condition.
Lois was unable to bring herself to even look at the news. After she, Richard and Jason had made a quick stop at the hospital for a check up – Richard had insisted on it because of her concussion – she had gone home, the entire time feeling numb.
Until she got to her bed after a hot shower, that is. She crumbled on it, crying, her whole body trembling with her sobs. Richard climbed next to her when he came out of their bathroom and found her in such a deplorable state.
“Shh. It's all right. We are home now, safe. I know a lot happened today and that it's all catching up with you now, but we are safe,” he tried to soothe her.
He thought she was breaking apart after everything that had happened that day. “Oh, poor, sweet, Richard. If you only knew...” she thought. She was overwhelmed, yes, but not with what Richard thought. Her heart was in pieces, worried about Superman's – Clark's – life.
He rocked her backwards and forwards until her tears and sobs subsided, and she fell asleep.
***
The next morning, she woke up early. She got up and went to the kitchen, to make herself some strong coffee. When she got there, she only hesitated a moment before turning on the radio to listen news about Superman's health. She started to make breakfast.
“And Superman's state is still critical, according to the doctors at Metropolis General Hospital. They don't know if he will recover, or when, especially because of his alien physiology. They say that when someone wakes – or not – from a coma is difficult to predict in humans, and they can't even begin to fathom the answers to those questions for an alien.”
She sighed, and brought her hand to her eyes, to prevent freshly-formed tears from falling.
She heard a cough from behind her, and spun around.
Richard.
“Good morning,” she said. It was time she told Richard the truth. “Good morning,” he answered, his voice flat. Looking at his face, she saw that he looked pained and a bit – cautious? - like he was expecting some piece of bad news.
The coffee machine was finished with her coffee. She took out two mugs and served coffee for the two of them. She sat on the table, Richard sitting across from her and reaching for one cup.
“Richard, we need to talk.”
***
Jason thrusted another one of his drawings into her hands. It picture him, her, Richard and Superman. The boy was certainly smitten with him, and Lois began to wonder if that was something that ran in the Lane bloodline or if that were some sort of inkling at work between her son and his biological father.
“Thank you. Thanks, baby.”
“Lois,” Richard called, his voice distant. Every since she had told him the true paternity of Jason, he had been distant. She had told him that she loved him deeply, and that she had believed him to be Jason's father until Jason had suddenly shown a superhuman strength that could only mean one thing.
Richard had been deeply hurt, even after she told him he was still Jason's father, because he had been the one that had been there when Jason had been born, the one that had helped her raise her son. It didn't matter who the biological father was, he was Jason's father in every other aspect. That did lessen his hurt somewhat, but he still had been distant ever since. That had been one of the most difficult conversations she had ever had in her life.
After that, she hadn't had the courage to tell him that she was still in love with Superman. Although she thought he already knew that – he probably had known all along.
“Yeah,” she answered, without turning.
“We can leave now if you are ready. I mean, you don't have to be here.”
“Where else would I be?” she stalled. When he didn't answer, she looked at him and found Richard looking at the television, where the latest report on Superman's health condition was being released.
“I could drive,” he spoke softly from behind her.
***
“So much for parking,” Richard said.
“Do you think I can get in?” she asked.
He gave her a smile and said, “You are Lois Lane. They will let you in.”
She tried not to think on the implications that phrase raised. “I wanna go with mommy,” Jason said from the back seat. Lois looked at him and back at Richard. His eyes were sad.
She hugged him, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He pulled her closer to him, and gave her a kiss on her mouth, a kiss that tasted of goodbye.
“I will be right here,” he said, but Lois knew that wasn't true. She could see it in his eyes. She shook her head, and gave him a small and sad smile. He didn't deserve this – he was a good man, and he didn't deserve a woman who didn't love him more than anyone else in the world. Richard deserved better than what she could offer him.
He didn't spoke a word as she left the car with Jason. She thought she saw a small tear trickle down his cheek before she turned to the Hospital, and she heard his car accelerate as the traffic moved down the jammed street. She knew he wouldn't be here when she left. She felt somewhat relieved, but nevertheless a pang of guilt squeezed her heart.
***
“This way, Ms. Lane,” said the doctor, snapping Lois from her stupor.
She entered the hospital room where Superman – Clark – was resting.
“Mommy, is he going to get better?” Jason asked her.
I hope so, she thought. “I don't know,” she said, truthfully.
“I want him to. I like him.”
She wouldn't be surprised if father and son shared some sort of connection that made Jason so attracted to him, like a moth to a flame.
She walked to the man on the bed, the man she loved. Yes, he had hurt her. But she thought she understood why – even if she didn't agree with his reasons. She still had her issues with him, but she certainly didn't want him to die.
Especially not knowing that he had a son.
“I don't know if you can hear me. They say sometimes that, when people are,” she couldn't bring herself to say the words on her mind, “that sometimes they can hear you,” she finished uncertainly.
“I don't know if you can hear me.” She took a deep breath to help her do what she had decided she should do. “I wanted to tell you that...” she stopped, the first syllable stuck in her lips. She moved closer to him, to whisper in his ear.
“Jason is your son, Clark.”
She looked at him, bracing herself not to cry. Resting her hand on his chest, she didn't feel the warmth she had come to associate with him, but was somewhat relieved that he wasn't cold either.
Looking at him, at those closed eyes, she couldn't resist. She bent down and planted a soft kiss on his unmoving lips, wishing him to wake up.
The life signs monitor beeped. She looked up, but nothing had changed on it. She shook her head. Silly me. To think he would wake up with a simple kiss...
She got up and walked over to Jason. “Come,” she said, but Jason ran towards Clark, lifted himself over the side of the bed, and planted a kiss on his forehead.
Some sort of connection indeed.
***
“Why the world needs Superman”
The title at her computer screen was all that she had come up with so far. The article itself eluded her.
Perhaps it would be easier to write an article entitled “Why Lois Lane needs Clark Kent?” she mused.
She didn't know what she wanted anymore, or how she felt about everything that had happened. She still felt hurt, but after seeing him so vulnerable, so human, at the hospital, her anger had all but disappeared, and her hurt had become a dull ache in her heart.
Tears started to streak down her cheeks. She needed a cigar. Taking her purse, she soon found her pack and her lighter, and wrapping herself in her robe, she left the house to smoke. Her son had always bugged her to stop smoking, much like Richard had.
Richard. Like she had expected, when she left the hospital, Richard hadn't been there, and she had hailed a cab to go home. When she had got there, she noticed that part of his clothes were missing, as well as one of their suitcases.
Probably gone to his uncle's apartment, she had thought.
She raised the lighter to the cigar on her lips, but suddenly the cigar didn't seem as appealing as it always had for her.
“Good night,” she heard her son saying from somewhere above. Looking up, she saw her son at his window, but instead of looking at her, he was looking at something above and behind her.
She turned. There stood Superman, in all his glory and – Thank God – health.
“I...” she began. “I love you? I know your secret identity?” There was so much she wanted to tell him, to ask him, to do. She settled with something simpler. “Will we see you,” she smiled at her choice of words, “around?” Clark, she completed in her head. He must have heard her at the hospital after all, she thought. He knows that Jason is his son – that's why he was in Jason's bedroom – and he knows I know about his secret identity.
He smiled. “I'm always around,” he said. He never lied, after all, did he? Clark had always been around. “Good night, Lois.”
***
A/N: I just HAD to write this! After watching the movie so many times, I noticed that Clark never appeared again after the island/New Krypton incident. And Lois had smiled at Superman when asking if she would see him around and then he answering that he was always around smiling. So, I decided to play with it. ;) Hope you guys liked it!
[Unknown site tag]
