~ Daily planet, very early morning. - Present ~
It had been a normal news morning, he came in to assistants and every reporter around either offering help, reminders, coffee, or they avoided him like the Bubonic plague. The latter especially as of late.
First order of business was the usual, bellowing out the necessary orders and reprimands, and encouragements (Chief of Editor style). His first cup of coffee during the tirade had been delivered and the everyone scattered to do what they should or at least appear to, thus his door was finally closed and he had a momentary reprieve. But only for a moment.
Clark and Lois.
They had been on his mind for days. Lois had picked up some work one night about a week ago to bring home, it had bothered Perry to see her so battered. And to add insult to injury, not only had Clark become a fugitive, but from how Lois sounded last time he had talked to her, his best investigating duo was in a bad way. Not only as employees, but two young people he cared very much about.
He felt angry and had since Lois went away to stay with friends, dealt with it by taking it out on his staff, more than usual. He knew that wasn't fair, but it wasn't as if they couldn't take it. If they couldn't, then they shouldn't be working there and he was doing them a fair by enlightening them. Also, his blood pressure, he knew was way too high, the issue with Clark and Lois had to get resolved or he was going to have a coronary.
Sitting with a grunt at his own thoughts, Perry eyed the desk drawer that held a small bottle that he knew he shouldn't touch, not now. Not ever and not during work. Purposely looking away from the temptation, he started his email client and yelled at the computer when he got some sort of error. The machine was saved from a pounding by his assistant.
There was a slight knock on the door before she poked her head in, “Chief? You called?”
“GREAT CEASARS GHOST! DO you know what its doing again? What is the point of having computers if EVERY time I go to use it, it claims errors.” It was at that point he began using words best not repeated in front of children.
Cathy rolled her eyes, careful not to do so in front of him. Despite his accusation, it wasn't every time, and he had a terrible tendency to hit the wrong keys or click who knows what with the mouse. The man was capable, though his personal preference for old school methodology tended to be his own undoing.
Causally making her way over, as he finished his venting, she took one look at the screen and with a quick flick on the mouse and tap of a few keys, she had his emails loading without issue.
“There - all your accounts.” That she knew of. “Give it another minute to gather it all and you're set. Anything else?” She glanced at his empty coffee cup he held in his hand. It was good it was empty, with the way he had waved it around. “Another cup?”
Perry grunted and handed the cup over. “Yes. Get me everything we printed on Superman during the last month.”
Cathy raised a delicate eyebrow before nodding and heading off with his mug. “Patience. The computer won't respond to threats.” She reminded before shutting the door.
Perry gave her a scowl before turning back to his email.
“Useless.” Delete.
“Not interested.” Delete.
“Not in the mood.” Filed.
“Needs a life, but may have merit.” File under crack pot with some sense.
And thus went the sorting. Meanwhile, Cathy had already delivered his second cup and a stack of papers on his desk, leaving him to his task before the rest of the Planet staff came in to start their shifts. About 40 minutes in, after having sorted most of his work emails and re-skimmed the Superman articles, did he allow himself a moment to feel defeated. Two of his best employees and on some level friends, and a hero - all gone. It weighed heavy on his heart and was seriously beginning to affect the job.
The Daily Planet would continue but the loss of a hero to report on, had affected its sales. There was also the fact Lois pulled in some of the best articles, even when it wasn't about the Man of Steel - there was a definite loss there. He hadn't said anything to her, but he hoped one day, if the woman lived long enough, to train her for editor. She had what it took, the fire.
Clark had a fire too. But his tendency to be late, absentminded, and clumsy got in the way. Despite these constant flaws, he had secured himself a place by not only turning in the stories that were worth their weight, but by being able to reign in his trouble-magnet wife. Till now.
As he had for the last few days, Perry continued his musing on the pair, while calling up his personal emails. He was more than aware of the planet gossip and wondering on how Clark had managed to get Lois or how he put up with her. Despite some having worked with the pair for several years before Perry had even come in as Editor, they didn't get it. Perry did.
He knew how they thought. Clark was a man with a golden heart, something Lois saw. Something that meant more to her than a once-hometown-football-hero who now suffered some sort of inner ear imbalance and couldn't get through a work day without knocking something or someone over.Lois was so obviously adored by the man, they meshed in ideals and thoughts, making up for any differences.
Perry envied them, to find truth, seek justice and do it with someone that you deeply respected and loved was a dream he had once had.
The woman he most often had it for was still attached to her departed beloved. Perry could never blame her, thought he hadn't moved on, neither had he pushed forward. Martha Kent was simply his ideal, if he wasn't going to have that, then he would just be alone.
It wasn't a self pitty party, but an acceptance made easy by a job that consumed.
Relief was the first feeling he felt at spotting the email, dated and time stamped for only three hours before, relief because it took him out of the thoughts of a failed relationship and two, because perhaps it was good news. As it opened, he could have sworn his aging stressed ticker just about jumped in his chest. That was the second emotion, excitement.
Lois hadn't given up. Bulldog Lane was still in business. The email contained her proof that her own husband could not have kidnapped her - it was asking for time and resources to prove it. Along with a promise for a big story to come.
Perry White had no hesitation - even without the promise, he was happy to give whatever support he could. Business wise, getting Lois and Clark back would also insure the odds of finding out what in the name of Hades was going on with Superman. He had no doubt those two could figure it out.
Grabbing the phone, Perry got straight to work. He wasn't chief editor of the biggest paper in the world for his looks.
“Wiped...he claims the last thing he remembers is the dark silhouette of a man with glowing red eyes.”
The morning sun shone down brightly, slightly warming the crisp October air. The busy Metropolis streets surged with busy bodies as many made their way to various offices and jobs, while others ran errands. It was all typical for the 9-5 crowd and most were so lost in their own worlds that Damian barely gave them a second thought as he proceeded.
“I agree, Mr Luthor. Yes, I do believe him. He was, I would say, a little more than upset at the very private and intrusive invasion of his mind.” Damian pressed his lips in disgust as he avoided a street vendor and then a religious man.
“Absolutely. Unfortunately, Madam Larmier predicted this event; however, she does hold to her promise that she can provide us the identity of someone far more important then a minor 'hero'.” He held the phone away from his ear for a moment at the vile rant that came momentarily from his boss' mouth.
Luthor's almost radical dislike for the man of steel was hard to avoid. The simple mention of the word 'hero' could have unfortunate consequences. The public, however, remained blind to true nature of Lex Luthor's philanthropy and agenda; only those loyal or well paid with intimidating fear, understood it was a long term plan of attack against a world wide threat masquerading as hope.
“ Yes, Sir. Her stipulations were clear. Very well. I will ask.” Damian agreed without even a hint of annoyance. He knew what her answer to a face to face meeting with Lex Luthor would be, but he would ask because he understood where the man was coming from. Not to mention, Madam Larmier had a powerful personality, an eerie sense of the future that made her captivating. He had relayed as much to his boss, along with her insistence that Damian himself play the part of go between.
A lesser devoted man would have used it, held it over his employer. Not Damian, he believed in the cause and had no desire to lead it. His position in the well oiled machine was satisfactory. To try and gain more would only ruin his own chances for survival and could impede the very beliefs he stood for.
“Right away, Mr. Luthor.. I..” Damian took in a sharp breath at the sight that unfolded rapidly in the sky.
It had started as a crackle of thunder and a flash of light in the distance over another part of the city. Bad weather was hardly unusual, so he started to ignored it, but the way it came out of nowhere without even a cloud in the sky to expand quickly till lightening flashed out and struck the nearest tallest building, the old tower – all these made him stop. But what caused him to pause and barely register the voice in his ear was the two figures that appeared suddenly out of the flash.
His initial feeling was one of relief that the masquerading hope and his foe were not so close. But this relief was short lived when they shot away from the tower.
“Sorry sir...” Damian spoke with unhappy quietness into the phone. Than he realized his phone was dead, obviously one of many as he noticed several others around him looking at their cells in dismay.
Pocketing the phone his eyes returned, riveted to the sky. Now his feelings were more of anticipation and resigned acceptance that the 'hero' was needed in this moment. Unfortunately, there were worse things than the false god amoung men to contend with.
There above Damian and the white collar section of the city, locked in an embrace, was Superman and a dark hazy figure. They suddenly exploded apart, only to rush once again for each other and collide with such force, it boomed across the sky, sending a rushing wind down to the onlookers below.
Several times they relocked, grappling for some sort of dominance, only to push apart again to charge against each other in a violent surge. After several minutes of this, they disappeared together over one part of the city, to reappear over another, terrifying the inhabitants of Metropolis, most who could only see the blaze of red and blue mixing with a dark stain. Many later would report that the sight of the 'stain' had caused them to feel ill, a fear they couldn't explain.
The sunny sky rapidly changed to a mass of tumult dark clouds and lightening that stretched out over half the city, rain began to fall hard as those in the streets rushed for cover. The sound of thunder cracked and exploded each time Superman and his foe vanished and reappeared, adding to the rising panic.
Physically, the battle between them was even, both inflicting damage, but getting no where. Clark knew, as he was once again grappling, that it was continuing to expand and grow in power. Just as it was taking from him, he could feel it and its feeling and strength, one that could easily at this point out last him. He had to do this right.
When they once again exploded apart, this time he flew higher into the sky, waiting for it to chase him and it did. Screaming and slowly growing into a fast moving dark tumultuous cloud with less of a human shape and more like something out of a fairy tale nightmare, a specter of doom.
They rose up higher above the city and the storm that rained down on it. He could not out run it, while they did not have the exact same abilities, their strength and speed remained even, in actuality it had the advantage. It was feeding off him, and he was taxing himself in order to keep it under control. Just as he thought they would once again end up trying to tear each other apart, it stopped following.
Jerking violently from both pain and surprise, Clark turned to look back at it, having stopped above the city it hovered, visually calm but the wave rushing through Clark from it was anything but calm. It was either evolving further at that moment or was trying a different tactic to regain control; regardless, Clark jerked again from the pain deep inside him - worse than anything he had ever felt with green-k, worse than anything he had ever felt. He could feel it pull. It was preparing to take the last of him.
No! He felt it connect with Lois, reclaiming its hold on her, through him, just as the storm over the city, seemingly in-tune with the creeper itself, began to spit violently out. Casting stronger more intense stray bolts and charges into buildings, into the streets themselves. He could hear the screams, but could do nothing to help in that moment.
With no control over his body he began to fall, feeling his strength drain, the harsh rain hit his skin, the thing feeding off him and Lois.
Oh Lois...if there was a hell, this was it - to feel her ebb away from him and not know if it was because she was dying, or him, or both of them.
Bart had, as he was ordered, stayed in Metropolis. At the time he had thought it would turn out to be pointless. Watch the city, keep an eye out. For what?
He had a sudden new found respect for Clark as they explosively appeared in the sky. It had been quiet the surprise, and probably not even what Clark himself had imagined, but Bart was there and watching the fast moving display of violence.
It was a good thing speed was his forte' for he was able to keep up and keep an eye out on the combatants, avoiding the dangers of a storm that rolled and roared over head. It had come out of nowhere and filled the sky rapidly, becoming more and more violent with each passing second.
No more then perhaps a handful of minutes could have gone by since Clark and the Soul splitter had appeared above Metropolis but in that time damage had been done. Mostly by the storm which struck buildings, cars, and anything moving. Several times Bart found himself saving pedestrians who had not been quick enough to get off the streets. Though the streets weren't the only dangerous place, some of the lightening strikes were capable of entering windows leaving broken glass, screaming survivors, and he feared dead bodies behind.
It hadn't escaped his notice either that twice Watchtower had suffered such a strike, he forced himself to not focus on it or the fact communication between Watchtower and the team currently came as sporadic speech or piercing static over his ear piece.
John and Lana were at Watchtower and that would have to do. Bart would not abandoned his post, though at the sight of Clark falling to the earth and the Soul Splitter swooping down to the street heading straight for him, he actually second guessed his decision. The thing moved remarkably fast and despite his own speed Bart found he was barely escaping the black death screaming for him.
Eternity surrounded him, it was merely seconds of falling in reality but for Clark it was lifetimes. It was not his life that flashed before his eyes as he felt himself being in affect ripped apart from inside out, it was the memories of a love that at one time he had never thought he'd experience. One he did not want to let go of yet.. couldn't. Even without the urge to never live alone, dying this way meant 'it' still lived on.
He wasn't aware of his screams, or the howling wind that tore at him and whipped him back and forth. The swirling, booming, storm raged on over the city drowning him out, drowning out the cries for help. Interfering with power, computers, communication. Metropolis was under siege and Superman was falling, only able to feel the pain, see her face.
Something changed. Again he felt her.. a stirring in his soul as it was being consumed.
Don't give up...
Maybe she said the words, maybe he only felt her desire for him to fight. But he had no doubt she was with him in that moment. He had too fight.
Lois..
He remembered the nightmare.. the tears in Chloe's eyes, the despair in her voice “We tried to save you both”.
And the thing.. “I took them all when you fell.”
No. He could not, would not, let it win.
“There's no try Skywalker.. I believe in you..This is embarrassing to admit, but I don't want to be alone anymore....you're part of me now, Clark. Half of a whole. So in the future, if there's even a chance that the mission might claim my better half, sign me up. Because I'd rather be in some sand-blown purgatory then in the hell of not knowing if I'll ever see you again.... Oh Smallville, even without the super powers, you would still be my hero, never forget it. ...Where else would I be, but at your side? Clark, you are not alone in this. ”
Her voice, echo's of the past were all that he needed. Somehow despite the agony, despite his flesh beginning to shrivel at the Soul Splitters ingestion of his very being, he opened his eyes and came out of eternity into consciousness.
There was no clear thought that could explain why or how he had even managed to swallow the second red kryptonite capsule. In the seconds before he would have hit the ground, it hit his system recharging what already coursed through his veins, again he screamed this time from the rush and then he stopped falling, only feet away from the ground. He pushed back upwards for the sun, taking it in, filling back out, and dragging up every emotional based arsenal he could.
The time it took to was no more then seconds but it was enough to give him one last push and the creeper pause.
It had rushed for Bart, sensing his uniqueness, his own emotional war and in its greed it projected fear till he tripped over himself and collided into a building about to face his death.
Bart had never felt anything like it, terror in a way he never had. Being forced to run for hours as Lex's prisoner hadn't done it, nor the looming Apokolips. No, this was what true terror felt like, to feel it down to ones bones, an ache that clawed from the inside. He would have screamed, cried..anything but the intensity of the fear overpowered him.
Salvation came like a whirlwind of red and blue, it slammed straight into hovering mass ready to strike at him. The building, ironically the daily Planet, shook from the initial collision and then from the proceeding fight. Clark held nothing back, he was out to destroy, rage written all over his face as he slammed at the creeper, using his heat vision and whatever else felt good.
The Soul Splitter retaliated with equal force, clawing and slashing, inflicting till his opponent bleed. Its link to the kryptonian was once again like a buffet, but the onslaught that came with it was to much to take in at once. Which was exactly what it was being forced to do. Like a mouth to full of food it couldn't swallow, not without choking.
Clark gave in inward grin as he felt it retreat from the connection. Still he force fed it, letting everything he felt for it, for Lois, for anyone flow out of him. All the heightened volatile emotions of a enraged red-k high kryptonian tore at the Soul Splitter, till it pushed away physically as well.
Changes that had already begun continued, the Kryptonian's rebuttal would only momentarily delay. Screaming, it took off for the sky, its expanding and evolving being demanded to be fed. While the kryptonian was currently to much to handle there was a city full of people and their bonds, no longer needing to touch or be near it opened its self up.
The storm above the city acquired an even more violent stance. Reflecting the thing that took up residence at the heart of it.
The ever growing maelstrom defied all human science, atleast in this current time frame. It did not, however, awe Clark. Having once been deposited via lightening strike in the middle of a cornfield , survived a day in an alien prison and experienced other numerous occurrences of science not of earth, the link between the Soul splitter and the now city size storm was perfectly conceivable, even in its own way expected.
Unlike his biological father, Clark only had a rudimentary knowledge of kryptonian science. Though in that particular moment , as he looked up at it, the how of its existence or formation, was not as important as how to destroy it.
“My Son, a sacrifice from within will be necessary in order to free yourself from the Soul Splitters connection.” The words of his father, was this the moment? Was this what he meant?
It occurred to Clark that the little highly condensed lethal black kryptonite capsule might have been intended for something other then he had originally thought. Leave it to Jor'El to speak in riddles, deny straight answers. Intended or not it did not matter. As he stared at the dark mass a plan formed and he understood what the sacrifice could be in other ways.
A Pain in his soul. Pain he wasn't sure he could put either him or Lois through if he thought about it to long. The alternative was just as painful, just a slower demise with consequences stretching on beyond his death. This way, maybe at the very least, it would be a clean death – he could take the creeper with him. Save her.
Turning to Bart, who was clearly still a little shaken from his own run in with the creeper, Clark focused on the younger man. Capturing in turn complete and undivided attention.
“Go to Watchtower. Tell Lois, tell her I'm sorry for what she is about to feel. Even if she isn't conscious.. tell her.” He knew she wasn't but maybe she'd hear the words somehow. “ Tell the others to prepare. It may get more violent before it gets better.” He glanced back up and than look around.
There is no time.. there is no time. The thought rang through his head but it would have to do. He couldn't worry about the lives that might be lost, the ones he had no chance in saving. Not if he was going to save a city and the world.
Looking back at Bart he said the only thing he could think of, a help that wasn't all that useful. “Keep them off the streets..find away!”
In case this was the end he didn't want those to be his last words, “ Tell Lois.. I love her..Always and forever.”
It did not escape his notice the little black pill that Clark slipped in mouth, to be held between his teeth. Bart swallowed thickly not sure what to really say beyond , “Aye, Boyscout.”
Clark gave a nod then was gone. Flying up with enough force that Bart was knocked off his feet.
Getting back up, he took no time to watch Superman head into the storm he wouldn't have been able to see him anyway. Instead he sped straight to Watchtower to do as he was asked.
Continue to Part 2..
0 comments:
Post a Comment