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Broken	By : MidnightBard Category: G through L > Lois & Clark Views: 2192 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
- 7
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- 9
Clark flew through the night, his heart heavy though it pounded anxiously. In another few minutes, he would be home. He would know the truth then, if Lois was there. If she was, then perhaps she really was willing to accept all of the terrible things he had told her that night. Perhaps she really could love the broken man that he was. And perhaps, with her gentle love, she could even repair the wounds he bore, could soothe his scars, could quiet the mocking voices in his head.
                But if she wasn't...
                Then he would know that she couldn't handle his faults. He would know that she could not be with someone who was broken. He would know that his wounds were too great an obstacle to overcome. And if that was the case, he would be utterly destroyed.
                If she wasn't there, Clark wouldn't even be able to fault her for her choice to leave. He could barely live with the knowledge that he was so badly scarred. He could never expect Lois to give up her life to be with a man who could never fully satisfy all of her needs. He wasn't naive. He knew that intimacy, though it was only one part of a relationship, wasn't something that could be removed completely from any relationship.
                "She deserves a complete man," he whispered to himself as the night air whistled past his ears. "I just wish that man could be me."
                He thought again back to what Lois had said earlier in the evening. Was it possible to overcome his fears, his insecurities? Was it possible to train his mind and body to relax, using baby steps as he worked his way up to being fully and completely intimate with Lois? Or would his traitorous body stubbornly cling to the sweats and shakes he was so prone to at even the barest hint of intimacy?
                "I have to try," he suddenly decided, whispering again to himself. "I can't lose her. I won't. I do want to be with her."
                He landed lightly on the ledge of his terrace, his eyes instantly looking through the windows, searching for Lois. He didn't see her. His already torn and bleeding heart deflated within his chest, which had begun to constrict. For a second, he closed his eyes and sighed. He didn't blame her for not being there. In a way, he hadn't been expecting her to stay. He hopped down off the ledge and sat for a moment, balling his cape in his hands and fighting against the sheen of tears which sprang, uninvited, into his eyes.
                In that moment, his world collapsed.
                Several heartbeats later, his sensitive hearing picked up the impossible. Lois' heartbeat, followed by the flush of his toilet. His head instantly snapped up from where it lay hanging against his chest. Now, through his windows, he could see Lois emerging from his bathroom. His heart missed a beat as she looked through the glass and met his eyes, a brilliant smile curving her lips when she saw him.
                A wave of relief and love swept through Clark, changing his sorrowful tears into those of happiness. He quickly brushed them away as Lois made for the door that would take her outside to him. Clark set his cape aside, and not a moment too soon. Lois picked up her pace, reached the door, stepped outside, and launched herself into his arms.
                "Oh, Lois," he murmured, holding her to him. His right hand caressed the back of her head in a loving manner. "You're still here," he whispered, in awe.
                "I told you I would be," she murmured back, squeezing his body ever so slightly. "Did you think I'd leave?"
                "I wasn't sure," Clark admitted, allowing her out of his embrace. "After everything that you learned tonight...I wouldn't have blamed you, if you'd decided that you couldn't be with me. I mean, I'm sure you had plenty of time to think...about everything, while I was gone. Plenty of time for you to change your mind...decide that I'm not a project worth taking on."
                "Oh, Clark," Lois said, smiling at him and shaking her head. She cupped his cheek with one hand. "Of course you're worth it. After all we've been through together, after all we've done for each other, I'd hoped you'd realized just how much you really mean to me. I'd hoped you'd realize just how deeply in love I am with you."
                "I do," Clark said, "because I feel the same way about you. I just...this thing...I just want you to be happy, Lois."
                "Then stop trying to push me away. You make me happy, lunkhead." She gave him a grin, to prove to him that the she was teasing him, ever so slightly, with her light-hearted use of 'lunkhead.'
                "I'm not trying to push you away," Clark said, fidgeting as he groped for words. "I just...hope you understand...just how difficult living with this...obstacle...is going to be...for both of us."
                "I know," Lois said, nodding and turning serious. "I don't expect us to figure this out overnight. I don't expect you to lose your anxiety overnight. I've spent all night thinking about it."
                "Thank you," Clark said. "But...what if...what if I never get over my...discomfort?"
                "You will," Lois said confidently. "I know you, Clark. Anything you put your mind to, you accomplish. You wanted a way to use your gifts to help people. You did. First as Clark Kent, intrepid reporter who always gets results. Then again as Superman, the dashing superhero who has saved so many, and brought hope to countless others. You wanted a job at the Daily Planet. You went out and proved to Perry that you had what it takes to work for him. You wanted to get closer to me. You never backed down, no matter how terrible I was to you. You refused to let me push you away. You refused to let me walk all over you. Instead, you forced me to get to know the real you, to come to know you as a partner, then friend, then boyfriend, all by simply being yourself - with your politeness and open, caring personality. This thing we're facing now, we will get through it. You will find a way to conquer it. Because that's who you are, Clark. You're a fighter. Like me."
                Clark couldn't help the grin that came, unbidden, to his face. "Did I ever tell you how much I love your confident, Mad Dog Lane side?"
                Lois grinned back at him. "Once or twice."
                That made Clark chuckle.
                "So, where have you been all night?" Lois asked. "The news said the prison riot was quelled almost..." she checked her watch, "three hours ago. And what's with your cape?" She pointed to the discarded heap of red fabric laying atop the ledge.
                "It's been a very long night," Clark said after a moment. "Let's go inside. You must be freezing out here."
                Lois nodded and led the way back into Clark's apartment. Once inside, she went into the living room while Clark remained in his bedroom. At human speed, he stripped out of his suit and tossed it in the hamper, then dressed in his favorite pair of ash grey sweatpants and a matching t-shirt. He didn't bother with his glasses. He rarely did while at home this late at night. After all, who was around to witness him without that crucial part of his disguise?
                "Do you want a cup of coffee?" he asked Lois, as he stepped out of his bedroom.
                "No, but thanks. I just finished a cup before you got back."
                For a moment, Clark contemplated making a cup for himself. After a small internal debate, he decided against it. He just wasn't really in the mood. He shuffled to the couch, knowing Lois would have a million questions about why he hadn't come home sooner, and why he hadn't been wearing his cape when he finally had comeback. He just dreaded the conversation, knowing it would be difficult to relive the night's events in his mind.
                For a moment he just stood there, debating whether he should sit or stand. He hadn't the slightest idea of how to begin. Instead, he remained mute, searching the room for some clue of how he could tell Lois about the events of the night. His eyes caught sight now of things he hadn't noticed at first, when he'd peered through the windows into his apartment, hoping against hope to see Lois still there. His laptop was open, the internal fan still whirring. A pad of paper lay abandoned on the coffee table, notes scrawled in red pen in Lois' distinctive hand. He didn't need to read them to guess she'd been at work trying to get the details of the prison riot. His phone lay next to the pad, and he wondered idly how many calls she'd made in his absence.
                "So, what did I miss?" he finally asked as he settled onto the couch, on the opposite end from Lois. It wasn't the greatest place for him to start, but he was just glad he was able to verbalize anything at all.
                "Not much. You had a couple of late groups of trick-or-treaters," Lois said, and Clark was glad she was allowing him to set the pace for what was to come.
                "Any good costumes?"
                "Let's see..." Lois said, letting her voice trail off as she thought. "Eight...no, nine, Superman costumes. Five Supergirls. A punk rocker, three zombies, one Elmo, a dragon and a knight, two cowboys, an astronaut, and a family of penguins."
                "Nice," Clark commented, nodding.
                "Oh yeah, I almost forgot. We even had one President Garner come to the door. He couldn't have been more than nine or ten."
                "Yikes," Clark quipped. "A politician going from door to door, looking for handouts. Now that's a terrifying costume."
                Lois laughed. "Yeah."
                Clark tried to laugh, but the sound came out sounding as forced as it felt.
                "Clark..."
                "What happened, yeah I know," he said with a sigh.
                "Is everything all right? Superman dropped off the radar after the prison riot. I know you couldn't have been on patrol the whole night. You never do that when I'm over. And I know it takes you less than three hours to do them anyway. So...where have you been?"
                Her voice remained so light, so low, so full of care that it put Clark at ease. She wasn't accusing him of avoiding her, or any number of the dark thoughts and worries he'd harbored on his flight home.
                "I stayed at the prison for a while," he began, sucking in a deep breath, like a diver about to step off a high cliff into the sea. "Some of the guards were wounded. A few others had been killed before I got there. Perry's son almost got beaten to a bloody pulp. He probably would have if I hadn't gotten to him before the mob."
                "Oh, Clark, I'm so sorry."
                Clark merely nodded. "I wanted to give a hand to the rest of the guards, and the backup crew that came in. It took a little doing, but we got the prison back into order. It was a while before the tech guy figured out what was wrong with the computer system...why the locks had spontaneously opened on some cells and not others. Once it was fixed, I helped get the inmates back into their proper cells. A lot of them were still pretty riled up, and I didn't want any more injuries to occur."
                "Good idea," Lois agreed.
                "Maybe," Clark said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "I probably should have left the prison sooner than I did."
                "Why? What happened?" Again, there was no accusation, only concern.
                "You know that old cabin in the woods?"
                Lois nodded. "The one I said looks straight out of a horror movie?"
                "That's the one," Clark affirmed with a brief nod of his head. "Well, I was flying past it on my way home when I smelled smoke coming from it."
                "It was on fire?"
                "No. Worse," Clark said, swallowing hard and shaking his head.
                "Clark? What's wrong? You're shaking," Lois asked, sliding closer to him and taking his trembling hands in her own.
                Clark looked down and studied their intertwined hands. He hadn't even realized that he was shaking. He wondered if his traitorous body had shook at all during his dealings with Denny. He supposed not. He'd been working on adrenaline all night, working very hard at maintaining his Superman mask. But with that adrenaline rush finally ebbing, he supposed it was to be expected that now his body would react to all that he'd seen and learned.
                "Honey?" Lois prompted him, jarring him from his thoughts.
                "Sorry," he said, shaking his head in order to dispel his thoughts. "Anyway, I went to check things out. It just didn't feel right to me. And what I found...Oh, God."
                "It's okay," Lois tried to soothe him.
                "No, it's not. I didn't get there in time, Lois."
                "In time for what?" she asked, clearly confused.
                "To stop him. He took another victim, Lois."
                "Him? Alex?" Her voice cracked.
                Clark nodded. "Alex."
                "You found him?"
                "I did. But not before he...he...got another boy. He was going to kill him, I guess to stop the kid from running to the authorities with what had happened. I was able to stop him from doing so, but..." his voice trailed off, unable to complete his thought.
                "It's not your fault," Lois said, giving his hands a squeeze.
                "Yes, it is!" Clark said, pulling his hands from Lois' grasp and getting up from the couch. He began to pace his living room. "If I had been there a few minutes sooner, I might have been able to stop another boy's life from being ruined. If I had found Alex sooner, he never would have gotten a chance to take another victim. If I had gone out looking for him tonight instead of taking a few hours off from my search, I might have been able to stop this. If I hadn't been such a coward when I was a boy, I could have reported Alex back then, and he never would have been able to continue doing to others what he did to me."
                "Clark, we went through this before," Lois gently reminded him. "No one blames you for being a scared young kid. You had too much at stake. You had to protect your secret."
                "At what cost?" Clark asked bitterly. "Do you want to know what else I found in that cabin, Lois?" It was almost a dare for her to ask him.
                Lois was never one to back down from a dare, however. "What?"
                "A notebook," Clark almost growled, deeply upset with himself. "A notebook which details every single one of his victims. Starting with me. No, no, nothing about what a freak I am," he said, pausing mid-step as he caught Lois' questioning look. "Just general comments about what he did to me. And comments about each of his victims since. Twenty of them, Lois. Twenty. And the only thing that separates me from the others in that book? I'm the only one of them still left alive."
                Lois' eyes widened in shock. "What?"
                Clark sighed. "It's true. I read through it at super speed when I found it, before I gave it to Henderson. Alex kept a record of every single boy he victimized, like a journal. He documented where and how he found each one, what their names were. He jotted down where he brought each of them, what they were wearing. He wrote about his decision to kill his victims so that they could never come back to accuse him of what he'd done. He even wrote down where he buried the bodies."
                "Oh my God," Lois murmured, looking as sick as Clark felt. "What a monster."
                "Yeah," he agreed, before dropping down onto the couch again. "And it's all my fault. If I had reported him, those other kids would still be alive."
                "Clark," Lois said, her voice turning serious, "you can't blame yourself for what Alex did." She took his hands again, trying to impart some comfort to him.
                "I can and I do!" he said, the words exploding from him as he pulled out of her grasp. "If I hadn't been so concerned about my stupid secret..."
                "No, Clark," Lois said, cutting him off. "You can't know that. Maybe no one would have believed you. Maybe they would have, and Alex would have served some time, only to be released eventually to do what he's done anyway. You can't shoulder the blame for Alex's crimes. I won't let you."
                Clark didn't even crack a smile at Lois' last sentence, though he normally would have smiled and laughed at her fiery nature.
                "I just feel like such a failure," he admitted, hanging his head shamefully.
                Lois cupped his chin with her warm hand and lifted his head so that he had to look her in the eyes.
                "You are not a failure, Clark Kent. You're just human, that's all."
                "But I'm not," he argued half-heartedly.
                "Yes, you are. Despite what your DNA might say, you are more human than pretty much all of the people I've known in my life. And I love you too much to let you beat yourself up over something that was totally out of your control."
                "Why?" Clark asked in a whisper. "I don't deserve your love."
                "Yes, you do," Lois said, also in a whisper. "You are everything I've ever wanted in a man. You're my best friend, the other half of my heart and soul. You've made me a better person. You are so gentle and kind and good-hearted. If there is anything that you really don't deserve, it was the hand fate dealt you - losing your parents so early in life and then being stuck in the foster family from hell."
                Clark drew a deep, shaky, but cleansing breath. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against Lois'. "Thank you."
                "You're welcome," Lois said, and he didn't have to see the smile she wore. It was evident in her words.
                Silence fell between them for a couple of minutes while Clark tried to squash down his lingering feelings of inadequacy. Once he'd mostly succeeded, he pulled away from Lois.
                "I guess you probably want to know the whole story, about what happened when I found Alex," he said, leaning back into the couch cushions, trying to get comfortable.
                "Only if you want to tell me."
                "I should," he said. "How else are we going to write up our story for tomorrow's paper?"
                "Are you sure you're up to that?"
                "I have to be, Lois."
                For the next half hour, Clark haltingly recounted the events of the night. He told her about finding Alex in the cabin, about how Denny had been chained up, about how the boy had been on the verge of completely shutting down. He told her about his phone call to Henderson, about his long wait while the police drove to the cabin, about his private conversation with the Inspector. He told her about his little shopping trip to get Denny something to wear and about finding the notebook hidden beneath the floorboards.
                "When we got back to the police station," he said, coming to the end of his story, "Henderson ordered a pizza. You would have thought Denny had never seen food before in his life. I've never seen a kid eat so much, so quickly."
                "You mentioned that he said he hadn't eaten in a few days," Lois reminded him.
                "Yeah, I know. It just broke my heart, you know? Anyway, I stayed for a while until he felt comfortable enough to speak with Henderson alone. Before I left, Denny finally told me where I could find his brother, Jack. You know where they were living? In an abandoned construction site." Clark sighed. "I went as Superman, hoping Jack would listen to what I had to say. I brought him some food too. We had a long talk, and it took a lot of convincing, but he finally agreed to take Denny and go to the halfway house the Superman Foundation has downtown. I told him I would ask around about a job for him, so that he and Denny don't have to rely on what they can steal or scavenge."
                "That was sweet of you."
                "It was the least I could do. I want to talk to Perry tomorrow, see if we can't get Jack a job at the Planet, even if it's just a paid internship or something."
                "And," Lois said, just a hint of nervousness tainting her words, "have you given any more thought to testifying against Alex, now that he's in the police's custody?"
                "Not really," Clark admitted, somewhat shame-faced. "With everything that's happened tonight, I feel like I haven't had time to think about anything at all."
                "Do you think you might?" Lois pressed. Then, realizing she was putting pressure on him, she quickly amended herself. "I mean...not that you have to decide right now or anything. You've been through a lot. You should take the rest of the night just to relax."
                "I'll try," Clark said. "And I promise, I will think about it."
                "It's getting pretty late," Lois said, glancing at her watch. "You must be wiped out."
                "Only mentally," Clark said, sighing and rubbing the back of his neck.
                "You need to rest. You've been killing yourself trying to find Alex."
                "I'll try," Clark said again. "Just...ah...would you stay here tonight? I'm not really sure I want to be alone. You're the only thing holding me together right now."
                Lois gave him a tender smile. "Of course I will."
                Clark let out a breath he hadn't been aware he'd been holding. "Thank you."
                "But, Clark?"
                "Yeah?"
                "Just one thing."
                "Okay. Name it."
                "None of this 'I'll sleep on the couch' stuff, okay? I promise, no funny business on my part, unless you want it to happen. I just...I think we both need each other close by tonight."
                Clark nodded. He'd been afraid to even entertain the idea of asking Lois to share his bed with him. Part of him craved having her in his arms, and being in her own. The other part of him was worried if his anxiety would get the better of him. He was, at the very least, prone to floating in his sleep in times of high stress.
                "Okay," he finally said.
                "Great, I'll go get changed. You may claim to only be mentally tired. I, however, am completely beat."
                Lois rose from the couch and made her way into Clark's bedroom. Ever since they had started to work together, it had become normal for them to pull late nights, even all-nighters, at each other's apartments. And, many of those times, one or another would fall asleep on the other's couch. So, once they had become close friends, they had agreed to leave extra clothing and toiletries at each other's homes. Each of them had an entire dresser drawer dedicated to the other's clothing, and their own shelf in the other's medicine cabinet.
                Clark followed her with his eyes as she swept out of the living room and into his bedroom. He heard her rifling through her drawer. A minute later, he heard the snick of the bathroom door closing behind her as she made herself ready for bed. Clark busied himself with locking his front door and shutting the lights in the rest of the apartment. By the time he was done, Lois had re-emerged from the bathroom and had slipped beneath the sheets of his bed. Deciding his current garb was sleep appropriate, Clark went into his newly unoccupied bathroom, brushed his teeth, then joined Lois in the bed.
                He snuggled down into the soft blue and white sheets, fluffing the pillow behind his head, taking care not to make it pop and explode feathers into the room. Then he gathered Lois in his arms, and felt her own arms encircle him as well. A wealth of pure love spread through his body, warming him and calming him by the slightest of degrees, though his body still trembled a bit and his mind still condemned him.
                "You're still shaking," Lois said in a quiet voice. "I'm sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have asked you to share the bed with me tonight. I've made you uncomfortable."
                "No, it's not that," Clark said truthfully. "If anything, I feel a little better than I did a few minutes ago. It's amazing, the effect you have on me. The effect you've always had on me, Lois."
                "Well, then this should help," she teased, before pulling him even closer and kissing him deeply.
                Clark melted into the kiss. All thought stopped and his mind was gloriously silent. He knew nothing more than the feel of her soft lips beneath his, the sound of her heart beating in time with his, the flood of wonderful feelings she loosed in him. And, somewhere in the depths of the fog that settled over his mind, giving him a few precious moments of reprieve from the torment it had constantly hurled at him, he felt something within him change. The feeling of arousal was nothing new to him. Lois had always stirred up longing in his heart. But now, instead of wanting to run from the feeling, he wanted to meet that feeling head-on. Determination replaced his doubts.
                Somehow, with Lois' help and patience, he would defeat his inner demons. She would heal his scars, mend his wounds.
                Breaking apart from their kiss, Clark held Lois a little tighter. His heart thumping wildly in his chest, he rested his head against hers and stroked her upturned cheek. They both shifted a little, so that instead of laying on their sides, Clark rested on his back and Lois lay with her head on his broad chest.
                "Thank you," Clark said, idly running his fingers through her dark tresses.
                "For what?" she replied in a soft tone that matched his.
                "For being here when I came home. For wanting to stand by me. For never giving up on me, even when I've wanted to give up on myself...not just now...now that you know about my past. But every single time I've doubted myself, as a reporter, as Superman, as a regular guy. You've always been my lifeline, Lois, the one constant, good thing in my life. I can't tell you how much I appreciate that. Or adequately express how much I love you."
                Lois craned her neck just enough to kiss the tip of his nose. "I love you too, Clark." She tried to stifle a yawn and failed.
                Clark smiled softly, holding her a little closer to his body. "Get some sleep, okay?"
                "You too," she replied. "And Clark?"
                "Hmm?"
                "Thank you, for trusting me...with everything."
                "I'm glad you finally know," he said into her hair as he planted a kiss amongst her tresses. "Goodnight, Lois."
                "Goodnight, Clark."
                Within minutes, Lois' breathing evened. A look of peace covered her face, in a way only sleep could bring out. For a while, Clark simply gazed at the woman in his arms, the love of his life, in wonder and awe of her. He'd always admired everything about her, especially her inner strength and determination, her doggedness to fix what was broken. He hoped she could fix him.
                No, he thought. She will find a way.
                With that thought in his head, Clark closed his eyes, hoping for sleep to claim him quickly. He must have been more tired than he'd thought. No sooner had his eyes closed than he was asleep, sucked down into the realm of deep, black, dreamless rest, where hours become mere minutes and the world ceases to exist. It was exactly the kind of sleep he'd secretly hoped for every night since the attempt on Ryan, the kind of rest that had successfully eluded him. But now, with Alex in Henderson's capable hands, Clark's tortured mind finally relented and allowed him the slumber he so desperately needed.
                Perhaps too, telling Lois about his past had finally loosened some of the fear which had been tightly coiled in every cell of his body. He now had no more secrets from her. He was a free man, so to speak. He didn't have to hide the things he saw as flaws, shortcomings, brokenness. He could speak freely with Lois, could air his hopes, his hesitations, his wishes and his fears. And, most importantly, he knew now that she was still willing to be with him, was willing to stand by him, would not give up on him. She wasn't running from him. She hadn't ridiculed him. She hadn't been disgusted by the fact that he hadn't ever fought Alex, hadn't reported him. She accepted him, accepted his past, but didn't accept the blame he'd heaped upon his own shoulders. Instead, she'd argued that none of it was his fault, that he'd only done what had been necessary to protect his true identity.
                All of that, perhaps, allowed his mind to quiet down for the night, so that he could recharge in that wonderful, blissful void of sleep, where no thoughts strayed, no dreams danced, no anxieties could frolic.
                When he did finally reawaken, it was only out of the sheer need to use the bathroom. Slowly, his eyes opened, only to be greeted with the sight of the back of Lois' head. Somehow, as they'd slept, they had both shifted to lay on their sides, their bodies comfortably spooned together. They were such a perfect fit, it was almost as if they had melted together or been cut from the same mold, only to be finally pieced together once more. Lois was still sleeping. Clark could tell from the even beating of her heart and the light, almost imperceptible snoring coming from her. He smiled and held her a moment longer, wishing he could stay like this forever. Being with her like this...it should have scared him, he knew. With anyone else, it would have made him run screaming in the opposite direction, making his old fears come rising to the surface. But this intimate embrace with Lois, it made Clark's heart rate quicken, not in panic but out of pure love.
                All of this he took in within a second of waking. The next thing he became aware of was that it wasn't just his heart that had responded to Lois' close proximity. His body had also come to appreciate the position they were both in. Pressed against Lois' backside, his penis was fully awake and painfully hard, thrumming with the need for release.
                Not now, Clark thought with a mental groan.
                Still, he had to admit that it wasn't the first time his body had reacted to Lois. Despite his fears, he was, underneath it all, a man deeply and truly attracted to the beautiful woman beside him. Lois Lane affected him in ways no one else ever could. She was his strength and his weakness. His Kryptonite and his salvation.
                He rolled out of bed and groggily made his way to the bathroom, where it took a little maneuvering on Clark's part to aim his stiff member into the toilet. Once finished, he made his way back to bed, only to lay there, completely incapable of falling asleep once more, his mind and body working in tandem to refuse him further rest. He glanced at the bedside clock. He still had three hours before he needed to be at work. His pager buzzed on the night stand. He picked it up and looked at the number. It was Henderson.
                Doesn't that man ever sleep? Clark wondered to himself, putting the device down, ignoring, for the moment, the Inspector's attempt to get in touch with him.
                Deciding it wasn't worth trying to get back to sleep, Clark vacated the bed again. As quietly as he could, he gathered together his attire for the day and set it aside. A shower seemed like a welcome idea, so he went back into the bathroom and stripped out of his sleep clothes. Tossing them into the hamper, he felt weirdly exposed. Even with the solid door barricading him from Lois' sight, it felt awkward to be naked while she was in the apartment.
                Naked and aroused, he mentally corrected himself. Very, very aroused.
                Sighing, he stepped beneath the spray of the shower, enjoying the sensation of the water cascading down his body, cleansing his skin. He took his time, soaping his body and rinsing, shampooing his hair, all at a typical human's speed. When he was finished, he adjusted the water temperature, making it so cold that ice cubes could have easily fallen from the showerhead, hoping it would force his body to calm down. But despite the frigid droplets that splashed against his skin, he could not shake the memory of her body pressed against his, her butt against his groin, her back against his chest, his arms around her relaxed body.
                It was a losing battle, trying to force his body into submission. Eventually, he gave up and switched the water back to warm. Lois' voice floated back to his mind.
                Baby steps. Get to know your own body.
                It couldn't hurt, could it? After all, it wasn't like he'd never actually done that before. True, it wasn't something he did all that often either. It had always left him feeling somewhat ashamed. Ashamed that he could do such a thing when he feared to let anyone else do the same for him. Ashamed that Alex had done that to him, and that he had responded and peaked, even as he loathed the touch of those filthy hands on his body. Ashamed that he had done nothing to stop Alex from victimizing him further.
                No, Clark thought, shaking his head and sending water droplets in every direction. I have to do this. Lois is right. If I can't be comfortable with myself, what chance do I stand of ever getting over this fear, this final roadblock that stands between me and spending the rest of my life as Lois' husband?
                And so, he squeezed his eyes shut so tightly he could almost block out his thoughts and began to reacquaint himself with his body, learning anew what his likes and dislikes were.
                With a halting motion, he reached down to his manhood, where it brazenly stood at attention, oblivious to the cold water Clark had tried to subdue it with. His hand brushed against the head, and a jolt ran through his body. Rarely had he felt such utter need before. His hand curled around his erection and a soft moan escaped his lips. When was the last time he'd touched himself this way? Four months? Five? No matter. Whether it had been the night before or a lifetime ago, it didn't matter. All that mattered was that he was doing it now.
                He made a loose fist around his engorged member and slid his hand over his length in an almost experimental fashion. Another groan bubbled up in his throat. It felt good. It felt right. Again he stroked himself, his penis responding by growing harder. As if independent of his body, his feet spread a little further apart and he leaned back against the wall opposite the showerhead. He kept his strokes at a leisurely, languid pace, trying to enjoy the sensations coursing through his body.
                It was good, he had to admit. It was good to feel in control of his body. It was good to be able to touch himself so intimately. It was good to be taking the first step to reclaiming his life and beginning to fully discover his sexuality. And, above all, it felt normal and healthy to be working toward the orgasm his body was demanding.
                Once or twice, as he stroked himself, the unbidden reminder would come into his head that Alex had occasionally touched him in this manner. Those thoughts would taunt him and his entire body would tremble with renewed disgust, making him feel soiled. But those moments were brief as he shoved aside those memories. Instead of remembering the feel of Alex's large, rough hands on his body, he tried to imagine what Lois' soft and petite hands would be like, sliding over his length and working him toward his pleasure.
                Without a conscious decision to do so, he increased his pace, stroking himself with greater urgency. He needed to peak and release. His testicles felt tight as they made ready to spill their contents. His heart raced. His desire was a raging inferno that could not be quelled though any other means. Faster he went, now giving his aching member gentle squeezes as he coaxed himself closer and closer to the brink.
                A constant stream of quiet moans filled the air, dueling with the sound of the splashing water as it fell, unnoticed and forgotten, from the shower and disappeared down the drain. With a strangled cry, Clark's orgasm crashed over him. His semen exploded out from his penis in hot spurts, arcing through the empty air before splashing wastefully into the floor of the shower stall to mingle with the constantly falling water before joining it as it swirled around the drain and vanished.
                Clark's breathing was ragged and his heart thumped so violently it seemed in danger of coming straight through his chest and tearing apart his ribs. Once he caught his breath, he found himself, to his eternal surprise, laughing. He'd done it. For the first time in his life, he'd brought himself to pleasure without melting down into a puddle of self-loathing and shame during and after the act. Instead, he felt amazing, like a tiny weight had been lifted from his shoulders, making him believe, for perhaps the first real time, that he stood a chance of defeating his demons.
                He was surprised when he exited the bathroom, a fluffy blue towel wrapped about his hips, to see that only a half hour had passed since he'd first gone in to shower. Lois still lay sleeping in his bed, now on her stomach and clutching the extra pillow to her. Strands of her dark hair were mussed and stuck out in every direction, though it only endeared her even further to him. Clark stood for a moment, simply watching her sleep and smiling to himself.
                God, I would give anything to see her like this every single morning for the rest of my life.
                He dressed at super speed, then shaved, using a small, handheld mirror to bounce his heat vision off of, so that it seared away the fine layer of stubble that had sprouted on his chin and cheeks while he'd been asleep. He craned his head from side to side, checking to ensure that he hadn't missed a spot. Satisfied, he left the bathroom again, only to find Lois stirring.
                "Morning," she said, giving him a tired smile. Then, seeing his state of dress, "Did I oversleep?"
                "Morning," Clark said softly. "No, I'm just up early. You still have time to go back to bed, if you want."
                Lois looked at the clock, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "No, I probably should get up for the day. We have a lot of work to do. And Perry has a staff meeting scheduled for eleven."
                "Right," Clark said, remembering the memo about the meeting. "I almost forgot about that. Well, seeing as you're up now, do you want some breakfast?"
                "That would be great."
                "Waffles? Pancakes? Eggs?"
                "Eggs. And toast," Lois said, stifling a yawn.
                Clark laughed. "Coffee too, I take it?"
                Lois nodded. "Better yet, can I get some in an intravenous line?"
                Again Clark laughed. "Go, get yourself ready. I'll have it ready before you can get dressed."
                Lois smirked at him. "Only because you cheat, Flyboy."
                Clark snorted and gave her a look of fake pain. "Me? Cheat?"
                "You and your heat gizmo."
                "Gizmo, huh?" he teased. "Seems like you enjoy my 'heat gizmo' at work all the time when you let your coffee get cold."
                "That's different," Lois retorted, grudgingly getting out of bed. "Hot coffee keeps me happy. And when I'm happy..."
                "Ralph gets to live another day?" Clark supplied, before she could finish her thought.
                "Among other things," she relented after a moment.
                Clark chuckled and stepped out into the kitchen to prepare breakfast, leaving Lois to sort through the small stash of business suits she kept in his closet. As promised, before Lois could finish getting ready, he'd cooked up a decent meal for them - scrambled eggs and toast, crispy bacon and fresh coffee, even setting out a bowl of fresh berries. They ate together in near silence, simply enjoying the other's company, and the peaceful reprieve allotted to them between the events of the previous evening and the coming day of work.
                "Lois," Clark said, swallowing down the last bite of his toast and wiping his mouth on a napkin. "I have to run a couple of errands this morning before work. Would you mind if I just caught up with you later at the Planet?"
                "Sure thing. But, are you sure you don't need my help?"
                "Yeah, I'm sure. It's just...Henderson paged me this morning."
                "For what?"
                "I'm not sure. I haven't called him back yet. But, I'm guessing it's about last night."
                "You mean, a follow-up?"
                Clark considered that for a moment. "Possibly," he finally said. "Or he's had a chance to read through the notebook and knows about me now."
                "Good point," Lois conceded. "You're sure you want to go alone?"
                Clark hesitated a brief moment. "No, but I probably should. Besides, I don't know if I'll be done in time to make it to the interview we have scheduled this morning."
                "Okay."
                Lois' easy acceptance made Clark pause in wonder. In his experience, Lois almost never backed down, and never without at least a fight. She really was trying her best to allow him to handle this situation in the way he needed to. His heart gave out a grateful thump as it swelled with even more love for her.
                "Thanks," he said, before taking the last sip of his coffee. "I'll try to be as fast as possible."
                "There's no rush, Clark. You do what you need to."
                "Yeah," he said haltingly.
                Telling Lois about his past had been one thing. She was the love of his life. Telling Henderson would be another thing altogether.
                "I'd better get going," Clark said finally, after contemplating his empty coffee mug for several minutes. "Did you want me to fly you home?"
                Lois shook her head. "No. I'll clean up here and then head over to the Planet before the interview."
                "Okay." Clark rose from his seat and stepped around the table to her. "I'll see you in a little while then. I love you."
                "Love you too."
                With a final, regretful sigh, Clark shrugged into his suit jacket, then a light coat, and left the apartment. He hailed a cab to the police station, knowing he'd take far too long to walk there, knowing he might lose his nerve before he got there. He didn't want to fly either, too worried his courage might flee and he'd wind up in Colorado instead of the police station. He tried to relax as the cab driver wound their way through the early morning rush hour traffic, but remained unsuccessful.
                Too soon, the cab pulled up outside of the station. Clark paid the driver, adding on a decent tip, then exited the vehicle. Out on the sidewalk, in the cold autumn sunlight, he could only just stand there, staring at the building uncertainly. He couldn't turn back, he knew that, deep down. He was one of Alex's victims. He had to talk to the Inspector and answer whatever questions he had for him.
                Tearing his eyes from the sign on the building, Clark took a deep breath, then bravely took a step forward. A few frantic heartbeats later, he walked in through the front door and asked the first officer he saw to let Bill know he was there. He sat on a hard bench and steepled his fingers as he waited. Before long, Bill came to get him and ushered him into his office, shutting the door behind them as Clark sat.
                "Morning, Clark," Henderson said, a bit gruffly. The man looked exhausted.
                "Morning, Bill. Sorry I didn't call first, before coming down."
                "It's fine," the Inspector said, taking his seat, putting the cherry wood desk between them. "I want to start off by saying, again, how grateful I am - how grateful we all are - that you discovered Alex's hide out last night."
                "No problem," Clark said, trying to make it sound casual, and knowing he wasn't succeeding at all.
                "That being said, we need to talk, Kent."
                "Okay," Clark said, drawing the word out a little in his nervousness.
                "Were you aware that there is a very detailed section in Alex's notebook about you?"
                Clark sucked in a deep breath and exhaled it again in a controlled manner before speaking. "Yes. I saw it last night right before I handed it over to you."
                "You care to explain, Kent?"
                "Do I have a choice?"
                "Not really."
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