The Phoenix Crisis

Chapter 4

Scott shot into his room in Richard's mind, numb but at the same time roiling with anger.

His body was gone. If his body was gone that meant he was...

That he was...

"Jean!" he called out. "Jean, please."

No one answered.

He paced, clenching his fists to keep from tearing his hair out. Too many thoughts attacked him, too many conclusions that he'd ignored because they were much too painful to acknowledge.

The professor wasn't here. Ororo didn't mention him at all. Betsy Braddock referred to him in the past tense.

Jean wasn't here. Hank had her medlab and Braddock had her counselling office.

His body wasn't here. His body was...

Taking a deep breath, Scott refocused. The last thing he remembered was riding his bike back to Alkali Lake.

The room shifted, fading fuzzily into a tree-lined mountain pass. It was the peak of summer; only those who boarded were at the school, a mere twenty-nine kids. His leave of absence was almost up, a leave that was anything but restful with Jean's voice and images of her body smashed under a wave disrupting every hour. An empty bottle of whisky lay under his bed.

Scott watched his memories almost dispassionately as the trees on either side of the trail. Alkali Lake's glacier-green surface shuddered closer. Time snapped, the memory ran in fast-forward, and suddenly he stood at the top of a rocky outcropping, searching the icy water as his name reverberated through the valley.

"Leave me alone," said both memory-Scott and current-Scott. The Scott in the memories roared, snatching off his glasses to attack the lake. The voice grew louder, forcing him down on his knees.

"Stop it." He whispered because he couldn't stand to add to the noise. "Stop it!"

Contrary to popular belief, Scott's vision didn't go red when he let his power loose. In fact, in the few seconds when he didn't have the glasses, the brilliance of the colours often took his breath away.

Time snapped once more and he lay on the rock, damp from a giant wave and dizzy from the sharp white light that had emerged from the lake. Jean stood before him, dazedly melancholy, and if this was insanity, he'd gladly take it. Seeing things was preferable to hearing them.

"Jean." Current-Scott said her name with more anger and urgency than disbelief, unlike his counter-part. He cut through the memory, banishing his shade to stand before his resurrected fiancée. "You didn't tell me everything."

She self-consciously tucked a hank of hair behind her ear. "No." She wouldn't meet his eyes. Her hands shook.

Scott lost his anger. He'd seen her that look before on her off days when the Phoenix pressed particularly hard against her psyche. "It's okay, honey. Tell me."

Shaking her head violently, Jean pressed the balls of her palms against hr temples. "No. No, I didn't. I couldn't."

"Shhh, shhh, honey, of course you didn't." Scott embraced her as she muttered things like "So stupid of me to do that!" and "Too long without a session" and "I couldn't stop her," all the while trying not to come to the right conclusion. Her fear denied all other possibilities.

"Was it Phoenix?" he asked.

She almost moaned, caught herself, and nodded.

"What did she do?"

Jean clutched tighter at his neck, her bony shoulders shuddering. "She knew I loved you. She knew you were one of my anchors. Without you or the professor, I wouldn't have anyone to ground me, to help me stay strong. So she... "

Scott stopped her sentence with a kiss, a sweet gentle one, the kind he gave her on their first date, when they were both so tired it was all they could do to cuddle, or between the most boring of administrative duties as a promise for fun to come. Jean held the kiss longer than usual as though wanting to absorb the sweetness of it all.

Her eyes remained closed as she pulled away. "I killed you."

"No, you didn't," Scott quickly denied. "Phoenix did."

"I am Phoenix."

"Phoenix is just a small-- albeit completley scary-- part of you. You're not her any more than I'm my optic blasts, okay? We've been over this before." He cupped her face. "I love you. Whatever happened, it wasn't your fault."

"I killed you!"

"If you killed me, we wouldn't be having an astral make-out session."

That broke her sadness. "I'm dead, too, I think."

"If you're dead, we definitely wouldn't be having an astral make-out session," Scott pointed out again. "I don't think there's sex in heaven."

"No, I mean..." Jean gesticulated like she always did when her brain moved faster than her mouth. "I'm not here. Hank would have said something."

"Professional courtesy?"

"No. His face was... different." Jean bit her lower lip. "I think maybe I'm just a memory you have of me. The last little impressions of our psychic link."

Scott drew back, consternation twisting his face. "That's impossible. If you're just a figment of my imagination, you wouldn't have been able to tell me what's been going on in the school while I was in Metropolis. You wouldn't have told me what I needed to do in Richard's body."

But Jean's brow remained wrinkled as she scanned the distance as if the trees could answer her questions. "Remember what I told you when we made the link? It was purely instinctual; I had no idea I did it and what the effects might have been. Maybe I put a little bit of my psychic awareness in you, kind of like how you and all the kids develop a telepathic shield from living with me and the Professor."

"So, I'm telepathic now?" Scott shook his head. "No way. You're alive. I have to believe you're alive. If the professor's gone and my body's gone, I... Jean, you're my anchor, too."

"What's the last thing you remember?" she asked with a sudden urgency. "What was the last memory you have before you woke up in Richard's body?"

He played along. "We were here and I was kissing you."

"After that?"

"You slipped me some tongue."

"Scott!"

With a sigh, he concentrated. "I was--" Scott's breath hitched. "I was choking. I heard your voice."

"Just my voice?"

"Yes. No," he amended. "Yes and no. It was just your voice but there were two of them. One was screaming--"

A screeching "Mineminemineminemine!" echoed all around the valley. "WantitNeeditGiveittomebabyyeahgivemeeverything. You'remineminemineminemine."

Jean pressed her hands against her ears, her lips tightening into a white line.

"The other one was you," said Scott. "You said--"

"--- that bitch won't take my man!" Jean ended, her face breaking into a smile. Scott grinned, too.

"And she didn't," he said. "She didn't kill me. You saved me first by putting me in Richard's body."

There were worse things to wake up to than a pair of breasts. Richard blinked several times, sighing in appreciation.

"Welcome back," said Betsy.

"Good to be back," he replied, blushing slightly. Someone his age with his life experience really shouldn't be able to blush any more.

Smirking, she sat back so that he could only see her face. "Summers really did start making rudimentary shields in your mind. That was the only thing that saved you from going into a coma."

Richard started to get up but she pushed his shoulders back down.

"Best not. You're still wired."

"For what?"

"I'm trying to understand your brain activity," she said. "It's well and good mucking about your corner of the astral plane but I need some sort of... template if I'm to separate Summers from you."

"But Scott doesn't have a body," said Richard, alarmed that he was alarmed. "What'll happen when you separate us?"

"It won't be permanent. I just think it will be better for all if you two didn't share every waking moment together."

Shifting under the blanket, Richard asked, "Is he there all the time?"

"From your morning wank to your last visit to the loo," said Betsy cheerfully.

You never told me that! Richard yelled at Scott.

There was no answer.

Scott?

"He's retreated," Betsy told him. She had her hands on either side of his temples, her eyes closed but fluttering. "Very understandable after the news. I could force him out but it would hurt."

"Let him stay," Richard said quickly. "He needs a little time to process." Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Jason sleeping on his bed. "So when can I get up? As much as I appreciate the concern, we're here for Jason not me."

Catching the direction of his gaze, Betsy said, "Your son is stable. He's still feverish but they seem to have it under control. Annie and Hank both have portable units attached to his monitors; if anything happens they can be here in a jiffy. Hank is with Lois and Superman right now discussing possible treatments with Dr. MacTaggert."

Something in Richard's heart cracked at that. With some difficulty, he pushed the feeling away. He was going to change, he told himself. He was going to make up for the past.

"What've they found so far?" he asked, please to hear his voice come out straight.

She shrugged. "I don't know. I could listen in but it's all Greek to me. I quite cheerfully skipped all my science classes."

He let himself smile. "Not something I want to hear when you're supposed to be the one in charge of the wires stuck to my head."

"Oh, those. They gave me a list of button colours that I shouldn't touch."

By the time Hank, Lois and Clark returned to the med lab, Betsy had made her way back upstairs after declaring Richard fit to walk around. He waited for them at Jason's side, forcing his face to show impassiveness as they approached.

"Anything?"

"Watch and wait," said Lois. "Just like old times."

Richard just barely stopped himself from reaching out to her. Then again on second thought, he continued the movement, slinging his arm around her shoulders and giving her neck a slight squeeze. "I should call Perry and everyone else to let them know where we are."

Lois smacked her head. "Damn! I was going to do that."

"You haven't even eaten breakfast yet," he said. "I'll make the calls."

"You've just recovered from a psychic shock," Clark chipped in. "I'll make the calls; the both of you should rest."

"Don't forget to call as Clark," Richard said, unthinkingly.

There was a chorus of gasps-- one from each person in the room. Richard's was the loudest. He hadn't stuck his foot this deeply down his throat since he was eleven and accidentally addressed a senator's husband by her lover's name. Then, as now, the only thing to do was soldier on and ignore anything happened.

"I think between Grewal and McKiney, the office should be okay," he continued. "They did a good job of filling in for me when I was out on assignment. I can smooth over deadlines with Perry if you want to keep working on your articles, Lois."

"Sure," she said, her voice strangled. She coughed and spoke again, "I've got most of the information I need on my jumpdrive anyway." She couldn't look at Clark either, Richard noted.

"It's all right, Richard," Clark said softly. "I was about to tell her anyway." His tone changed, not Clark's higher-pitched babbling nor Superman's solemn bass but an intermediate. Richard wondered if that was his real voice or just another disguise.

"Wait," Lois said, her eyes narrowed. "Richard, you knew about this?"

Scott, I would really appreciate it if you could make me pass out again, Richard thought. No such luck. He was on his own fixing this one. "It was an accident, actually."

But she had already turned that dark, lethal glare at Clark. "You told my ex-fiancé but not me?"

"I-I didn't mean to," Clark began, hints of his stutter coming forward.

"You didn't mean to tell him?" Lois clenched her fists, her arms stiff at her sides. "You've managed to keep quiet about it around me for eight years but you--" She stopped, her breath coming in ragged. "I'm going to get a cigarette and the next person who tells me that it's bad for me is going to die."

They watched her stalk out of the med lab, purse in hand and already rooting for her Camels.

The dry cold wind didn't bother Lois. Her body had gone cold even before she left the house. Her stomach hurt and her head ached and she was so full of... everything that her arms trembled.

She tromped through the damp brownness of the gardens, studiously avoiding the few smoky tendrils marking fellow smokers in the hedges. She wanted to go somewhere far, far away. Somewhere she could pump her system full of nicotine and have a mild, mindless nervous breakdown in privacy. This place had dozens of teenage mutants; there had to be tonnes of places where the little marmots could emote, goddammit.

Her hands were nearly numb by the time she reached the lake and she sucked back the cigarettes like they were oxygen. A boathouse and dock stood abandoned for the winter, a covered swing hung sadly under a snow-laden awning beside the building. Lois brushed off the thin layer of snow from one side of the bench and sat, reaching for another cigarette.

She could really choose 'em, she told herself bitterly. Every single time she thought she could let her guard down, someone always kicked her in the teeth. There was a word for women like her: stupid.

She was really tired. She was exhausted of being so strong all the time, of pretending that nothing hurt when every part of her soul was black and blue from getting kicked out on the street. Even that she could stand if only Jason was well, but he was still hooked up to all those machines and the world's experts on genetics were as clueless as she was.

Lois dropped her head on her hands and sobbed. It was not pretty; Lois could not do the pretty cry. When she cried, there was mucous, and redness, and smeared make-up, and sounds more appropriate on a wild boar. One of her main aversions towards crying in public was the knowledge of how ugly she cried. She'd let herself cry like this exactly four other times: two days after her mom's funeral when her dad took them away from her grave, three months after Clark's disappearance when she finally acknowledged that Superman was gone, two months after Jason's birth when the doctors said he couldn't live past the age of two, and two years after Clark's return when Richard took a six-month assignment to Darfur to get away from them. This time, she was experiencing a fantastic combination of all of the above. This was going to be the last time, dammit. She refused to do this again. No one except Jason was worth it.

Two more cigarettes later and she still didn't feel any calmer.

"Try one of these." A cigar appeared under her nose. Lois followed it up a hairy arm encased in red plaid and leather which was, in turn, attached to Logan. The X-Man had half of a cigar stuck in the corner of his mouth. At her bemused expression, he explained, "The way you were sucking back those little sticks, I figured you needed something a little stronger. You're gonna run out soon."

"Thanks but I don't like them," Lois said.

He shrugged and put the cigar back into an inside pocket. "They're looking for you. Hank may have come up with a way to treat the kid but he wants to run it by you first."

That got Lois up and running.

"Hey!" she heard Logan call out. "Look out for the--"

One foot caught on a raised root while the other caught a patch of ice and Lois went down with a lurching twist to her ankle.

"God fucking DAMN, stupid idiotic--" Her list of swear words had sadly decreased since Jason's birth.

Logan was at her side immediately, quietly inspecting her ankle. By his noncommittal grunts, Lois surmised that nothing was too damaged besides her pride. "Looks like a sprain. Bad shoes for the winter."

"I left my ice skates in the house."

Slipping one hand under her knees and the other around her shoulders, Logan lifted her easily.

"I can walk," Lois pointed out.

"If I let you walk this far, those two back in the house are going to try to pick a fight with me and I have a shitload of other things I've got to take care of." Still, he let her down when they were in view of the house.

Richard and Clark sat at opposite each other when she came down to the council room. They both looked up. Lois opted to stare at the large screen over their heads.

When he saw her approach, Hank clapped his hands together. "Ah, now we can begin. If you please, Moira."

"Because we still haven't sequenced every single gene in human DNA-- and will likely not fully understand the code for a few years yet-- we cannot fully understand how Jason's DNA is different," said MacTaggert. "We don't even know if he's sick because his body cannot create certain proteins, if they're making too much of another, or if the current environment is not compatible with his cellular make-up. However, we have made a few key comparisons with the gene sequences that we do know about."

The screen divided into two with the right once again showing illustrations and diagrams.

"With Jor-El's help, we can code Jason's DNA with his parents and several other control subjects to understand the differences. Only then can we use gene therapy to correct any possible weaknesses in the code."

"This sounds like it's going to take a lot of time," said Clark.

McCoy nodded. "It will. To be honest, I cannot foresee any reasonable progress for another year at best. Three to five years is more likely. And even then, the DNA we introduce in the therapy is temporary; he will have to receive injections for the rest of his life."

"He's used to it," said Richard, wearily massaging his temple.

"What are you doing for Jason right now?" asked Lois.

"On that front, we have some better news." McCoy held up a new file. "The likeliest culprit is a whopping viral infection which his immune system attacked but possibly due to its hyperactive kryptonian status combining with the plethora of hormonal changes, the condition turned into acute disseminated encephalomyelitis."

There was silence in the room.

"He had a bad case of the mumps," MacTaggert translated.

Mumps? Clark went through his mental stores for an explanation of the disease. A common viral disease in the third world, it had all but disappeared in first world countries due to vaccinations. Symptoms included painful swelling and high fevers but were usually not fatal unless the fever turned usually high.

"Was he never vaccinated?" asked Dr. McCoy.

Lois shook her head. "He had such a bad reaction to the first set of shots that the doctors decided not to continue until he got older. We were supposed to go in for his new shots before he started middle school."

"We'll see if we can't include that in the gene therapy then."

"That's it?" Richard asked. "The mumps?"

"Jor-El tells me that even though Jason is genetically more human, the ability to absorb energy from the sun is a dominant gene. A few flights above the cloud cover with an oxygen mask might provide him with enough energy until we can discover a way to desensitise his immune system."

"The mumps," repeated Richard.

"I can take him up as soon as he's ready," Clark said. "He'll need an insulated suit as well as an oxygen tank."

"We're scrounging a set up as we speak," McCoy said. "And not a moment too soon it appears. Annie has just texted me; Jason is awake and looking for his parents."

"The mumps?" Richard couldn't seem to say anything more.

With only the smallest twinge of guilt at using his powers, Clark raced ahead to Jason's bed. Ms. Ghazikhanian was zipping together the last ends of an isolation tent around Jason's bed while a boy his age spun on a stool, chattering about the latest video game.

"-- but if you don't blow up the tank, you'll miss the portal to the--"

"Carter," Ms. Ghazikhanian said in a fond but firm tone, "you're tiring Jason out."

"No, he's not," Jason said then promptly belied himself by yawning. "I just woke up."

"And you should be back in bed," said Clark.

"Kal!" Jason tried to lift his head, but had to settle for a smile. "How long've... you been here?"

"Since you got sick." Using the gloves built into the tent, Clark gently squeezed Jason's upper arm, their usual handshake ever since Jason became obsessed with knights and jousting.

"Carter says this... is a school... and that every... everyone here has... superpowers, too." Gasps interrupted Jason's sentences. Clark had to fight to keep his smile on.

"Yes, they do," he said. "Most of them can do things that I can't. There's a girl who can turn into dust and another that can turn into anything when she rips her skin off."

"Cool. What does...she do with... the skin after?"

Clark laughed. "You know, I haven't asked." His sensitive hearing picked up chatter and footsteps in the hallway. "You parents are here," he said, stepping away from the gloves to allow Richard and Lois some of their own time.

Lois cried out when she saw him awake. "Oh, Jason, honey, I'm so glad to see you awake!" She rushed to the tent and shoved her hands in the gloves, patting his forehead and checking his vitals, completely oblivious to Jason's embarrassed protests. "You're still feverish."

"Mo-om." Jason struggled as best he could which was to say, not very well at all, hampered as he was with weakness and medical equipment.

Richard came around slower but no less excited. "Hey, tough guy. You scared us for a second."

"I'm sorry," said Jason. Then his eyes brightened. "I thought you... had to go to Thailand."

"Not when you're sick," said Richard. "Besides, I've been to Thailand before and it's kind of boring."

"Except for... the internal conflict and... the hurricanes."

"Yeah, well, except for that. Uncle Perry'll let us skip."

With a wistful smile, Jason asked, "How long can... you stay?"

Those words must have triggered something in Richard because he shoved his hands in the gloves as well and wrinkled the tent in an attempt to hug his son. "As long as you want me to."

"Good." He yawned again.

"Go to sleep, honey," Lois whispered.

"Don't go 'way, Dad," Jason mumbled. "Have to... tell you... weird dream."

"I won't move," vowed Richard. Clark could see tears filming his eyes. "I'll never leave you again, I promise." He looked up at Lois as he said those last words. Tentatively, she returned it and Clark was painfully reminded of the first time he saw them together. It hadn't even been in person; he'd taken a picture off of Lois' desk and seen the three of them smiling, content. And once again, Clark couldn't do it. He couldn't selfishly seduce Lois, no matter how much he wanted to be part of her family.

Deflated, Clark excused himself to Dr. McCoy and Ms. Ghazikhanian. He slowly backed towards the door. There had to be a catastrophe somewhere that would take his mind off this.

"Hey, wait!" Lois's tennis shoes squeaked on the antiseptic floor. Clark paused in the hallwa, turning just enough to meet her eyes. He had to leave. He had to leave. "Thank you," she said a little breathlessly.

"There's no need," he said, equally breathless but not for the same reason.

She gestured weakly at the ceiling. "Do you have to go... somewhere?"

Half-tempted to create a story about a burst dam, Clark shook his head. "I have to listen."

"Oh. Okay." She chewed on her lip.

He raised a brow.

When he turned his head, she grabbed his elbow. "Wait. Can I just... talk to you when you come back? Please?"

Willing every ounce of negativity away, he answered, "Always, Lois."

Never let it be said that Superman was perfect. It took long five years for him to accept that he didn't fit in Lois' life; that he never could. He could at least take comfort in ending the relationship instead of dragging it on until they both hated each other. Richard, Lois, and Jason were meant to be together; he was, and should have stayed, the favourite uncle. Look at all the emotional destruction he wreaked when he turned selfish.

Diving down under the clouds again, Clark filled his lungs with air and shot straight up once more. He wanted to get closer to the sun, as close as possible taking the radiation as strongly as possible and he could only hold his breath for half an hour. At that rate, he only got half-way to Venus before he had to turn around for more air. Clark welcomed the strain.

As soon as his body felt full, he flew back to Earth intent on finding something to do. Preferably something big. He had to take his mind off this decision.

I'm hungry.

Richard caught himself on a side table as his vision went orange. Well, good morning, sunshine. Nice of you to come back.

He had the impression of Scott making a face. I had a little something to work out.

Welcome to the club.

Yeah, I overheard that a little. Scott sent a couple empathetic memories his way. It was partly my fault. Retreating must have tired out your brain a little, made you more apt to make mistakes.

What're you talking about?

Your slip up with Clark's name and how Lois blew up after that.

I guess we're even now,Richard said with a little amusement. Lois is the only person who'd be able to yell at Superman like that.

She loves him; Scott said simply.

Annoyance twinged Richard. Thanks for that reminder. I thought you were supposed to be on my side.

"Are you all right?" Lois asked, staring at him in askance. She'd returned from her talk with Clark half an hour ago, finally picking up brunch along the way.

Richard nodded. "I'm just having an argument with my tenant," he said, tapping the side of his head.

"Who's winning?"

"I am," Scott-Richard replied. Richard glared at the closest wall and contemplated ramming his head on it.

Try it and I'll take over your body.

"If you do anything to my body, I'll--" Richard sputtered to a stop, unable to think of a consequence dire enough for the situation

Lois smirked. "I guess this is what happens when you can't work it out over football."

"Excuse me," he said, "I'm just going somewhere I can argue with myself in peace."

"Knock yourself out." As he passed by, Lois reached a hand out. "We have to talk. About... things."

Warmth bloomed in Richard's chest. Placing his hand over hers, he said, "I know."

What was that? Scott demanded as soon as they left the med lab.

That was me taking a step forward into fixing my relationship with Lois, Richard answered with great satisfaction.

No. Scott pushed at Richard's mind, causing a dull throb in the back of his had. You are not breaking Clark and Lois up.

Why not?Richard asked, angry and genuinely surprised. What about your whole let-her-make-up-her-own-mind speech to Clark a couple days ago?

That's not a fair comparison,said Scott.

Why not?

Jean could unmake things with her mind. Anything she imagined, hell, even a lot of stuff she couldn't consciously imagine happened because her telepathic and telekinetic skills were that powerful. She'd probably destroy Superman if it came to a head-to-head fight. We're talking about people so extraordinary that--

Okay! I get it!Richard must have shouted that out as well because a couple kids on their way to the Danger Room squealed and ran the rest of the way to the elevators.

No, you don't. Scott sounded tired. Look, I know how you feel about her. Jean is... was... I know you love Lois that much.

But what?

But you don't need her.

Richard's eyes narrowed as he tried to understand Scott's emphasis.

Scott continued in a more reasonable tone. If you didn't have Lois in your life, then what? You'll get rip-roaring drunk every once in a while, move to a different city and a different paper, take on a few more overseas assignments-- basically it'll be life the way it was the past few years.

Just in case you have a different ruler for happiness, I did not like the past few years, said Richard.

But all it affected was you and your small circle of acquaintances. If Superman breaks up with Lois, if Superman got depressed, what happens? What happened the last time his heart broke?

New Krypton happened. Or rather, the events leading up to New Krypton happened beginning with Superman's disappearance and culminating in the creation of a new planetoid likely orbiting the rings of Saturn right now. Five devastating years happened in terms of natural disasters and man-made ones.

What did I do to deserve you?said Richard bitterly.

Hey, do you think I look forward to being around your head when this happens? It's a rank bitch. Your emotions combined with my memories and the next thing I know, we're in a karaoke bar on the border between North and South Korea for an assignment that we didn't really want to cover, singing Jim Croce ballads and hugging a bottle of bourbon. I hate bourbon.

Richard didn't deign to retort.

Richard was still making phone calls in one of the guest room when Lois found him. He signed off to Perry, snapped his cell phone shut, and turned to her with a strange smile. It was sincere but at the same time very... off. Lois was always the type of follow her gut instinct especially now that it had been honed by motherhood.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Richard answered too quickly. He waved to a bed. "Sorry. I took the smallest room. I didn't think there'd be much point when I'd be with Jason most of the time."

"No, no, I had the same idea but Logan told me the smallest room was taken. Now I know it was by you."

They both chuckled awkwardly.

"So," Lois said, twisting her fingers into knots and telling herself that she wasn't wringing her hands, "who wants to start?"

"Ladies' choice," said Richard.

She sighed in relief. "Okay, good. I want to get this off my chest."

"You've unloaded a lot already, why stop now?"

Lois stared at him, surprised at his tone. Richard had always been quick witted but his chides had always been gentler, his smiles softening the words.

"Sorry." He tapped his head. "I've got to figure out a filter between my mouth and his brain. Please go on. I'm listening."

"You've always been good at that." She sat beside him on the bed, an uneasy twelve inches away. She clutched at the edge of the mattress. Twelve inches when they used to curl into each other like they wanted to get into the other's skin.

"You're good at talking," he said. "We had a good balance going."

"We did, didn't we?" Then, quieter: "I miss that."

Richard sighed. She couldn't see what his face looked like-- she was too chicken to take a look-- but she could imagine it. He'd have wrinkles between his eyebrows, just little ones, and this white line above his upper lip where he'd be trying not to frown. Right now, he was probably pinching the upper button in his shirt-- yes, there were the clicks of his nails against plastic.

"I miss you," Lois quickly continued. "I'm not a complete blockheaded, big mouth and ruined love-life notwithstanding. Dumped or not, I wouldn't have stayed with you just because you were around when I was pregnant and I certainly wouldn't have gotten engaged if it wasn't for love."

"Lois--"

"Please, let me finish," she pleaded. She still couldn't look up. "It's like this: you're the best friend I ever had. Kal-- Clark-- Superman was this ideal. Who wasn't in love with him? But it was... it was ass-backwards was what it was. I admired him then fell in love with him because he was... well, he was the perfect guy, really. Aside from a strange predilection towards Mexican wrestling costumes and a really dopey spit-curl, he was pretty damn perfect and any woman around will tell you if a perfect guy looks like he might even maybe look at you in a way that's sort of like falling on love, you'd better hold on to him like nuts because no one else is going to be like him."

"Not making me want to sleep at night, Lois."

She licked her lips nervously. "Sorry. It's the whole writing thing. I need to make drafts before I speak because it just goes on and on and I have to remind myself that I can't go back and erase it."

"Lois."

"Just hush for a second! I'm trying to tell you that I love you and I can't get it right!"

Lois, you are an unmitigated idiot, she thought as she finally got the courage to take a peek at Richard. His shocked "O" turned into bemusement streaked through with anger.

"You were my friend first," said Lois, hoping to undo the damage she'd wreaked. "And then later on, I realised that everyone lied. There were other perfect men around besides Superman. But on the other hand, they were right too because once I realised you were perfect, I hung onto you as tightly as I could. And I know that I got all stupid and flustered when Clar-- Kal came back it was just so confusing and I never got the closure of saying good-bye and then there was the whole thing with Jason squashing a guy with a piano and then Kal wanted to visit and I couldn't say no to that all thing considering and then you took that assignment and everything just--"

Richard grabbed her hands. "I know," he said.

"You know," Lois repeated joyfully.

When you'd spent five years with a man, spooning in the winter, fighting over Leno versus Letterman, wiping snotty noses, and sharing shampoos, kissing him after a six-year dry spell really wasn't a hardship at all.

Somewhere in the South Pacific, Superman blocked his hearing by drilling a hole into the side of a volcano so that the lava wouldn't flow over the village.

Richard!

Richard, this is not a good move.

Goddamn it, this wasn't what we talked about!

Richard!

Richard wrenched himself away. His breath came in ragged. Her kiss had been that wonderful. Fighting Scott's control was that difficult. What he was about to do was that painful.

Slowly, he loosened his hold on her arms. Lois, her lips still rosy and her eyes still half-closed, let out a little sigh.

Scott, he pleaded.

Richard.

Fuck you.

You, me, Jim Beam, and Jimmy Croce.

"Lois, we can't do this." He cupped her cheek, willing Scott to take over the lying part. He could never lie convincingly to the people who knew him well. "We're in very different places now and, well, I know somewhere I'm going to have to share you with him."

"But we're not together any more," she said.

"You still love him," he pointed out.

Stomping her foot, Lois said, "Sure, I love him too but he obviously doesn't love me enough to even tell me his disguise after eight freakin' years together. I mean, what is that?"

"Why are you so stuck on his name?" asked Richard. "He told you his name was Kal. And maybe there's a reason why he kept it away from you. It's like being married to a cop multiplied by a million."

"Where you like it or not, you'll be together forever." There was nothing fake about his bitter smile. "I want to be a little bit selfish about this. I'm sharing my son, my city, and my job with the guy. I don't want to share my wife."

"You never had to--"

"Yes, I always did," he said softly. "Plus, compared to him, I don't really need you."

That had to have hurt her. She drew back; Richard didn't stop her. "What are you saying?"

"He's alone Lois. He's the only alien on this planet. He's so different, even from mutants and for some reason, when he's with you, he doesn't..." Richard ran his hands through his hair. "I can move on without you. I don't want to but I can. Him, on the other hand..."

Lois put a hand up to her forehead. "I feel like Ingrid Bergman."

"Only smarter." He cupped her chin. "We'll always have Hon's Chinese Buffet?"

Shaking her head quickly, she said in her more normal brash tone, "It's not your decision to make. I'm within a few blocks of middle age, y'know. I'm not that giddy little girl--"

"Lois, I doubt you've ever been a giddy little girl."

"Then why do you and Kal keep insisting on treating me like one?" She bit her lip against the tears, flinging her arms around his neck. "I love you, goddammit!"

He clenched his fists and jammed them in his pockets to keep from reaching out to her again. "I know."

"I love you and I love him and it's stupid and people would probably tell me to get over myself and just thank God that I've got two good men in my life and I can't stand it because it means I'll have to hurt one of you and, God, why can't one or both of you be bisexual?"

He might have laughed. Or hiccoughed. Either way, the action released the tension in his arms and he allowed himself to embrace her back. "I love you, too. And I... really don't want to think about the bisexual part." Richard kissed her, one last time as her lover. "Go out there and call him."

"There's a certain fly boy?" she said.

"Something like that."

She watched at him-- no, she stared at him like she'd developed X-Ray vision too and was inspecting him from the inside out, from the soul out. Her brilliant little brain was revving at a thousand RPMs; he could tell that much but he had no idea what was going on in her head. He wondered if he ever had.

Richard kissed her again. This time, really, was the last time. "Good-bye, Lois."

Tuning people out was more difficult than focusing in especially when they were people he loved. Clark didn't so much tune Lois out during his rescue as he did focus intensely on the volcano and Jason and the banter of the demining units in Myanmar.

When he landed, Lois was waiting for him in one of the study rooms. He'd never dreaded seeing Lois before.

She stood as he entered. "I need to... There are things that... have to be said. But I need to just mentally compose it first." Taking a deep breath, she looked skyward. Her lips moved and her eyebrows-- those rather bushy, expressive little apostrophes-- twitched. "Okay. I've got it."

Clark crossed his arms and waited.

"And I think it would be better if maybe we went somewhere--"

Clark scooped her up and rocketed to a small clearing in the northwestern end of the woods.

"-- more private." Lois took a look around. "This'll do. Okay." She took a deep breath, shaking her arms to get rid of her nervousness presumably. "I understand that I have to share you. I could never compete with the rest of the world and should never try. Please, don't interrupt--" she said as he was about to do just that. "I need to get this all out first.

He nodded, one hand slipping off his arm to cover her hand which was still on his elbow. She didn't pull away. How pathetic that he gloried in such a small thing.

"Part of the reason that I love you is because you're so selfless," she continued. "So what business do I have trying to be selfish, to keep you to myself, when that's the main reason I fell in love with you? Not just with Superman but with the day job. That's the one thing you can't disguise, you see? You're the nicest person in the world.

"I also know that there are some things that you can't share with me. You explained that before but hearing it and knowing it are so different. I know that you're trying to protect me by keeping fifty-percent of your life a secret but it feels like a closed door in my face."

"I didn't mean for that," Clark said quietly.

Lois squeezed his elbow. "I know. I know but my logic has this awful disconnect from my gut and, if you had't noticed, I have a slight problem with impulse control when it comes to my gut."

"I don't see it as a problem," said Clark. "If more people followed their gut like you do when something is wrong, there would be less work for me."

"But sometimes the gut instinct is wrong," she said. "I mean, look at Richard. My gut said that he was being a deadbeat when really he was just reacting to the fear that his family was slipping away and if I just thought about it logically, I would've figured it out but I was such a mess of-- anyway. Digressing. My gut said that you were hiding things with no reason but really, there was a reason even though it's a pretty dumb one and you know that it wouldn't have worked in the end 'cause I would've tried to figure it out eventually."

"Which you did," said Clark, inclining his head.

"Which I did," Lois agreed. "And I was there waiting for you to give me this big reveal and we could have a laugh about what idiots we were dancing around the subject and then, I don't know, have a celebratory cupcake and pad thai or something. But it never happened. It never happened and my head just... seized on the idea that knowing your real name was symbolic of your everlasting devotion or my importance relative to the world when I knew very well that it was a stupid idea. Logically. Pretty soon, it stopped being about you and started being about me and my issues with secrets and I was just so-- tunnel-visioned about-- it just felt like--- and then Jason-- Oh, God I'm losing coherency."

"You have my everlasting devotion," he said, or rather whispered. He still didn't have his breath back. Flying to the moon and back, he was okay, but the minute Lois opened her mouth, he hyperventilated. "And you're the first on my list of priorities, tied with Jason and my mother. There's nothing I treasure more in this world than your happiness and safety."

She only nodded, trembling as the wind cut through the trees.

Clark pulled her closer, wrapping her in his cloak. Not only would he warm her but he could speak without looking her in the eye. That was liable to make him fall apart.

"The secret identity was for my protection at first," he said. "That second year, it was for yours. But later, after we started officially-- after your divorce, my motive changed. I kept the secret from you for seven years, Lois. I knew how angry you'd be that Superman and Clark both lied to you for that long. I was... I was afraid. That you'd hate me. And in the end, you kind of did anyway even without my revelation."

"I guess there was only so much of the sulky hostility anyone could take."

"That wasn't it," Clark hurried to correct. "Not completely. I knew you were unhappy. I knew that you weren't unhappy before we got together, when you were with Richard, specifically. Ergo..." He shrugged, letting her come to the right conclusion.

Lois' eyes widened. "You broke up with me so that Richard and I would get back together." At his nod, her expression when stormy. "Kal-El, you are an idiot." She tilted her head up at the heavens. "I'm surrounded by idiots."

"So I've been told."

"By whom?"

"Richard. Or maybe Scott Summers. I'm not quite sure." His hold on her eased as her tension did. "You can't deny that your life was less colourful before we got together."

"If I wanted less colourful, I'd be writing stock-market quotes."

"And Jason?" That gave her a pause. Clark dove on. "Twice he's been kidnapped to threaten me. That's two times too many."

"The first time was my fault," said Lois. "I was the one stupid enough to drag him onto the Gertrude, remember?"

"Yes, but--"

"But nothing, Kal! I understand about Jason; I'd've done the same. But you should've talked to me like this about your concerns instead of assuming that I'm too fragile and stupid to make up my own mind."

"I've talked to you about my concerns," he shot back. "You always acted like it was nothing."

Lois threw her hands up in the air. "Then there's your response."

Sighing, Clark, let his arms go limp at his sides. "Then we're right back where we started."

"Only with more arguments."

He watched her leaned up against a tree instead on on his body, rubbing her hands for warmth. "We'll never come to an agreement on this topic. You'll always insist on complete autonomy while I--"

"Would always insist on wrapping me in cotton batting."

Clark nodded. His heart thunked hollowly at his ribs. "This isn't going to work, Lois. Maybe if I hadn't left for Krypton all those years ago, we could have found someway to resolve this but too much has happened. I love you too much to let our friendship turn to hate."

With a sigh that was almost a whine, Lois returned to his embrace. She'd always have a place in his embrace as far as he cared.

"We're quite a pair," she said.

"At least, that's what the world hopes."

Playfully, she punched his stomach. "Ow." Then she sighed, releasing all the tightness from her shoulders. "Okay. I think you really do have to save the world now."

"There is a four-alarm situation in Bulgaria."

"Go on then. Save the world. I--" Lois cut the rest of the sentence off, reddening.

Clark tipped her chin up with a finger and dropped a kiss on her nose. "I know." Turning, he focused on Richard's window a mile away at the mansion. The other man lay wide away on his bed, staring holes into the ceiling. "He's waiting for you."

Lois continued to hold him, burrowing her face in his chest, and although he couldn't feel it, he could tell she put all her strength in it because of the tension in her arms. "I always love you, too, Kal."

He knew that now. The knowledge would have to do.

Jean was taller, more angular and more muscular than Lois. She smelled like ivory soap and rosemary mint shampoo and her hair slipped silkily across his face instead of bunching and crackling like Lois'. Her head tucked somewhere in the sternum instead of matching up to his cheek. But the way she held Richard was familiar. When she re-entered Richard's room tonight and quietly wrapped her arms up under his arms, Scott recognized the shape of her.

Scott made Richard focus out the window. He figured he could see Clark zip out to whoever needed help right now.

Richard wrenched his head back to the room. Scott let him, retreating into his little astral room. His mind was still on Clark and what Lois' decision meant but he didn't want to worry Richard with it right now. Someone here had to have a happy ending.