Purgatory By Rated: PG-13 Submitted: September, 2003 This is certainly a story a long time in the making. I started this, stopped, started again, wrote, re- wrote, then added even more. What started out to be just a moderate piece, has grown into a massive bit of writing. But I feel very proud of it and thrilled to share it. This was inspired by a movie, a remake of a book, probably easily guessed, but I won't say which until you've read it. It was a labor of love and I hope it brings others as much joy as it's brought to me. I have to thank my wonderful beta-readers. Jenni, without you there's no way I could have finished this and gotten it posted. Your last minute clean-ups were what I needed. Your continued praise of this piece still makes me feel very thrilled. Avia, you forced me to create better scenes than I'd originally intended. It may have frustrated me to rewrite so much, but I'm proud of the finished product. A couple others offered up praise along the way. That encouragement helped me finish this. It's taken a while to finally get it sent to the archives, but I'm glad I made the effort. No infringements of any kind was intended. The characters do not belong to me. I borrowed them for a while, but put them back. I don't think there are any others I need to credit for direct quotes or borrowed words. If there are some of those scattered around in here, I hope you all can point out my short-comings. Thanks again for all the wonderful comments I received when posting this to the boards. The response was much, much more than I'd expected and it was an incredible ego-booster. Enjoy! ++++ "Are you serious?" Clark asked Lois with an incredulous expression on his face as the two partners squared off in their latest argument. Lois, in usual fashion, crossed her arms and glared at him defiantly. Who did he think he was, interfering in her life like this? She answered to no man, especially this one. If marrying Lex Luthor was what she wanted to do, she'd do it. The only problem was she didn't want to. She'd also be damned if she'd let Clark know that. "Lois," Clark started in a softer tone, relaxing his stance a bit. "Think about this. Do you really know him well enough to marry him?" "That's none of your business. What I do in my personal time is off limits!" Clark sighed heavily. She'd just made it perfectly clear that she had a relationship with Luthor that went beyond what he'd imagined. The thought made him nauseous. How could such an intelligent woman be so ignorant when it came to the mighty philanthropist? <> His conscience reminded him. Another sigh to gather his thoughts and he looked at Lois sadly. "Do you love him?" Lois could only stare at Clark. She hadn't expected that question from him. Then again, why shouldn't she? It was exactly something he would ask. She dropped her arms slowly and turned to walk to the window in her living room. She stared out into the darkness, taking precious moments to gather her thoughts. Lois was so confused. She'd been overwhelmed by Lex's attention toward her in the beginning. He was successful, well educated, and he was taking the time out of his schedule to pursue her. If that wasn't enough to impress any woman, she didn't know what was. Around the same time though, she started to notice someone else. She told herself at first that her attraction to this other man stemmed from the fact that she hadn't had a relationship in so long. She just wanted the attention. But as the days went on, Lois became more aware of this man. His little pet peeves, his intelligence, his physical appeal, and his apparent infatuation with her were all that she thought about when she was alone. However, when she was with him, she tried her best to act as if she was oblivious to him at all. Now she couldn't do that any more. She didn't want to do it. Lois turned to Clark with new resolve and determination. "No, Clark. I don't love Lex." "Then why even consider his proposal?" "Because, I was using him as a shield," she answered flatly, her voice void of emotion in this instance. "Excuse me?" Clark's brows arched in confusion. "About three months ago, I realized I was attracted to someone else. It scared the hell out of me, so I took Lex up on his offer to go out. I thought the distraction would lessen the appeal of this other man." Clark inwardly groaned. He was pretty sure she was talking about his alter ego and didn't particularly want to hear this. "It only made him more attractive." Lois lowered her head momentarily before looking back up at Clark. "I realized a few weeks ago that I was in love with this man." There, she'd just confirmed his worst nightmare. He closed his eyes briefly to get hold of his raging emotions. When he opened them, Lois was standing inches from him. Suddenly his heart was pounding loudly in his ears. He didn't want to hear her undying love for the one-sided character he'd created. "I've been denying it ever since because. because I was afraid that if I admitted it, it would change things between us." <> What was she talking about now? Lois lifted her hand to cup Clark's cheek in her palm. "Clark, I am so in love with you," she whispered. <> Clark had to remember to breathe. Had she just said what he thought she said? "I tried to fight it. I was at a place in my life when a relationship with anyone was just not what I needed. And when I noticed that you had an interest in me. Well, there was no way I was going to get involved with you. You're my partner. at work. Work and romance don't mix. at least in my experience. So, when Lex proposed, I saw a possible out." She lifted her other hand to hold his face. "Only I don't want out any more. I want you." Clark's hands lifted to grasp her sides gently. "Please mean that," he told her huskily. "Every word," she assured him before she raised up on her toes to touch her lips to his. <> Clark couldn't believe this was happening. He had Lois in his arms, kissing her the way he'd dreamed of countless times. This was better than anything he'd ever known. This was better than flying! He reluctantly broke their encounter on that last thought. Lois didn't know about him. Should he tell her now? She would be angry and disappointed. Would she be hurt? Feel betrayed? Clark had to stifle a groan when he looked down into Lois' beautiful brown eyes. They had darkened with a desire that he'd never seen in a woman's eyes before. Maybe one more kiss wouldn't hurt. He leaned down to capture her mouth with his own again as he lifted his hands to hold her face. Lois thrust her arms around his neck and poured herself into the exchange. Clark melted into her. He was in heaven. The woman he loved had just told him she loved him back and was allowing him to kiss her senseless. Or at least she was having that effect on him. Clark was about to break the encounter again when Lois wrenched her mouth from his and planted wet kisses around to his ear. "Make love to me, Clark," she whispered breathlessly to him. A shiver ran down his spine. He couldn't do this. Not now. Not until she knew. His legs nearly gave out from under him when she stuck her tongue into his ear. Then she nibbled his lobe gently and he lost all coherent thought. He'd wanted this for far too long. He didn't think he could stop now. She'd just rubbed his.. "Lo-is," he hissed as he bent to lift her into his arms. A few quick steps and they were falling onto her bed. His only hesitation was when he stopped to whisper, "I love you," in the darkness. For once in his life Clark Kent surrendered to his desires, banishing his reasoning into the far corners of his mind. ~^~^~^~^~^~^~ Clark traced lazy patterns over the bare shoulder beside him. Lois was lying on her stomach, looking at him, a slight smile playing on her lips. "Does this change everything?" she asked softly after a while. "I would hope it makes it better," he told her before he leaned to kiss the skin he'd been stroking. "I love you, Clark." "And I love you, Lois." He smiled as he brushed her hair back off her face. "Please tell me I no longer have to worry about a certain proposal." Lois rolled to her side and reached out to touch his face. "You never did," she assured him. Thankful beyond belief, Clark leaned forward and kissed her softly. Lois was smiling when he drew away. "What?" "I was just thinking about Lex's expression when I tell him no. He hates to lose, you know." "Yeah." Clark's expression had turned grim. "Lois, he will be angry." "He'll get over it." "Still." Clark ran his hand down Lois' arm. "I just don't like the thought of him becoming angry with you. He's dangerous." "Well, then we'll just have to prove that to the world." She inched closer, wrapping a leg around Clark's and snuggling into his chest. "Right now all I want is for you to hold me." "Just hold?" he asked in a teasing tone. "Mmm," was her only response as she started to kiss his chest. Maybe holding was overrated. ~^~^~^~^~^~^~ Clark had a permanent smile pasted to his face and an extra lift in his step as he walked down the sidewalk in the bright morning sunshine. The last few days had been the most remarkable days of his life. The woman he loved had declared her love for him. She'd allowed him to make love to her. every night since then. He'd been to her bed and she'd come to his. Life couldn't get much better. They were planning on a quiet evening in tonight. He would cook something, maybe Italian, and they would have a much-needed discussion about a certain secret he`d kept from her. That was the only thing that worried Clark. How would Lois take it when she found out he was Superman? He hoped that eventually he'd be able to prove his love to her and she'd get over the hurt and anger he was certain she'd feel. He made his way into the Daily Planet lobby and over to the elevators. Inside the car, he punched the button for the elevator to take him to the newsroom floor, silently reliving intimate moments from the last three nights. Not even Lois' trip to visit Luthor today could deflate his happy balloon. Luthor would no doubt be angry. The man didn't appreciate having his ego deflated by anyone. Clark was a little worried for Lois. But she wasn't about to let Luthor interfere with her happiness right now. She sported the same smirk Clark did. It was hard to believe this was the same woman, who had just a year ago, told her partner not to fall for her because she didn't have time for it. The elevator doors opened onto the newsroom floor and Clark came face to face with the love of his life. "Hi," she told him with a smile as she entered the car. "Hi, yourself. Where ya' going?" Clark accepted the offered kiss after the doors slid shut. "I'm meeting Lex for lunch. I thought it was time to tell him about us." Lois noticed as Clark's face drew into a frown. "Come on, Clark. You knew I had to do this." "I know," he pouted. "I just wish you didn't have to at all." "I know." She stuck her arm through his and leaned into his body. "I promise not to be long and I'll be at your place by six." He stopped as they stepped out of the elevator. "You're not coming back to the newsroom today?" "No. Perry has me going across town to write some fluff piece. Can you believe that?" Her hands waved as she told Clark about her latest assignment with disgust. Emotional pieces weren't her strong point and her editor knew it! "I think you sell yourself short. You're a great writer." He reached out to rub her arm lightly. "Even when it's fluff pieces." She smiled at him. "Do you want me to meet you and go with you after lunch?" "I wish. Perry wants you to do research on the Grady case." Lois patted his chest and smiled again. "So we'll have to settle for dinner this evening to see each other again." Clark groaned loudly as she grinned at him. "The hardships," he said with a lifted hand to his chest in an attempt to look wounded. She giggled and turned to leave. Clark watched her go through the revolving door before he turned to get back on the elevator to go back upstairs. He hated allowing Lois to go see Luthor alone, but knew she'd be angry if he followed. He'd just have to trust she'd be all right alone. And if she needed him, all she had to do was yell. He groaned again on that thought. He just hoped she'd still talk to him after tonight. ~^~^~^~^~^~^~ Lex smiled up at Lois as Nigel showed her into his office. "Lois, darling," he drawled as he stood and held out his hand to her. His expression registered one of surprise when she stopped across the desk. He decided to shrug it off and enjoy his lunch. "I thought we'd eat out on the balcony." He stepped back and held out his hand for her to go through the open door first. Lois didn't move. She'd had a little time to think about this lunch with Lex on the way over. She'd decided that she didn't want to eat with this man. There was only one man that rated that kind of attention from her now and Lex was not him. She smiled to ease the tension in the room. There would be plenty of that in just a moment. "Lex, I don't think lunch is such a good idea." "Excuse me?" He turned fully to her, his expression growing confused. "Have I done something to offend you?" "No, no." She started to pace in front of the desk, an action that meant she was nervous. Clark's warning was repeating itself over and over in her head. Suddenly she wished she'd asked him to come with her. Finally, she stopped and looked up at Lex. "I can't see you any longer." Lex's brows rose into his hair. "This is sudden." "Actually, it's something I've been thinking about for some time." "Would you care to tell me why?" "I. don't have feelings for you and it's not fair for me to lead you on." Lex regarded her for a moment before he sat back down behind his desk. He busied himself with lighting a cigar so that he could get control of his anger. There had never been a woman who brushed him off and it stung, not that he'd give her the satisfaction of knowing that. He blew out a puff of smoke before he looked back at Lois. "Lois, surely you're just nervous because we've been moving so quickly?" "I'm not nervous. I can't see you anymore. I'm really sorry." Without giving Lex time to say another word, she turned and left. In the elevator on the ride back to the lobby, she wanted to kick herself for not telling him the truth. But for some reason, she couldn't bring herself to tell Lex about her relationship with Clark. Did part of her not want to anger him? Or was she not comfortable in the relationship she was building with her partner? She immediately answered no to that question. She was completely comfortable with Clark and couldn't be happier. Well, maybe not completely comfortable. It had been she who'd insisted to Clark that their new relationship be kept quiet for a while. She'd told him she didn't want to tell everyone just yet and wasn't exactly sure why. So why hadn't she told Lex? Was she ashamed of Clark and what they were building together? No. No, she was not ashamed of Clark. She just didn't feel Lex should be privy to her newfound happiness. She felt that belonged to her and Clark and no one else. She smiled when she thought of her sexy partner. He was truly remarkable. She fought her feelings for him and now she couldn't figure out why. Clark was the best thing that had ever happened to her, and Lois would spend the rest of her life showing him how much she loved him. That included telling everyone about them, something she'd change first thing tomorrow. With a happy, contented sigh, and thoughts of the night to come, she exited the elevator to finish her day. ~^~^~^~^~^~^~ Clark had thought the day would never end. By five, he was glad to be able to finally leave the Planet behind. He loved his job, but was anxious to not only hear how Lois' lunch with Luthor had gone, but also get their discussion out of the way. After that, hopefully, they could get back to being blissfully happy. Lois found Clark whistling as he stood at the stove cooking their dinner. "I thought we were ordering out?" she asked as she kicked her shoes off by the door. He looked up at her and smiled. "Hey." He couldn't help but feel overjoyed she was comfortable enough to use the extra key he kept under the flower pot to let herself in without knocking first. He'd offer her that key tonight. maybe. "I was tired of take-out," he continued. "I wanted something home-cooked. How's baked chicken, mashed potatoes, and steamed vegetables sound?" "Mmm. delicious." Lois licked her lips as she sniffed over the food on the stove. "It smells wonderful." She looked at the food one last time before she gave Clark a lingering kiss. He smiled widely when she drew away. "Now that's the best way to start the evening." "Absolutely," she agreed as she stole another kiss. She patted his chest before moving to make a drink. "How did your lunch go?" Lois hesitated a moment before answering his question. "Would you mind postponing that discussion until after dinner?" Clark frowned slightly, but quickly agreed. "Sure." He leaned to take the chicken from the oven, afraid the reason for her postponement was because Luthor had not been happy. But surely she would have told him if he had reason to worry. Then again, this was Lois he was thinking of. He pushed down his concern in order to concentrate on his lovely date. He wasn't about to let Lex Luthor spoil his dinner. He would taint his evening soon enough with a revelation of his own. ~^~^~^~^~^~^~ Lex Luthor concentrated on lighting his cigar while he digested the unsavory piece of news he'd just heard. He'd had Nigel investigate the real reason Lois couldn't see him any longer after she`d left his office earlier in the afternoon. Just as he'd thought, there *was* another man. There was a heavy silence in the room. Finally, he turned back to his subordinate. "So, Nigel, you're telling me that my rival for Lois Lane's affection is a lowly reporter?" "Yes, sir. I checked with the operatives you ordered to tail her and they report that she went to his apartment after work. An informative that I spoke with inside the Planet today told me she's been spending a great deal of time with Clark Kent over the last few days." Lex frowned, but his voice was skeptical. "Well of course she does! He's her partner at the Planet. They are work colleagues!" "I am well aware of that, sir, but nevertheless, my informant insists that Lane and Kent are spending social time together. He insists that they look decidedly cozy when they arrive at work. together. They also leave together. I am assured that they are an item. They are, in fact, together as we speak. It seems as if Ms. Lane was not the woman you thought she was, sir." If it were possible Luthor looked even more irate. "You might be right about that, Nigel. I thought that Lois had the potential to rise above the mundane, but it seems she has chosen that nobody Kent over me. I think that my dear Lois deserves to be taught a lesson." Lex swung his chair towards the window and contemplated the darkening sky, yet it could not rival the darkness of his soul. "And Mr. Kent is becoming extremely tiresome. I had a phone call from Thomson today." If Nigel St. John was taken unawares by the change in direction of his boss's discussion, he was not going to show it. "May I ask what it was about, Mr. Luthor?" The man in the chair sat perfectly still, almost as if St. John's words hadn't penetrated his deep contemplation. Then abruptly he turned and answered his aid-de-comp, "He tells me that Kent has been investigating his drug-dealing scheme and he's afraid the reporter is getting too close." "Does that mean we need to worry, sir?" Nigel asked conversationally. "Could be, though I'm sure Thomson knows the score. I doubt he'd be so foolish as to bite the hand that feeds him and his family." Lex's threat was clear, though his voice remained smooth. "However, Mr. Kent is becoming troublesome in more ways than one, it would seem. I think he needs to be shown that no-one interferes in my business affairs, or steals what is mine with impunity!" "Have you a plan in mind, sir?" The two men chatted about the downfall of the Daily Planet reporter as casually as they would the weather. "Don't I always, Nigel." Lex couldn't resist a grin at his own inventiveness, as he drew contentedly on his Cuban cigar. "The secret of success, Nigel, is always being able to turn misfortune into gain. Do we still have a contact in the DEA?" "Indeed we do, sir. I find it fortuitous to keep our informants' palms well-greased." "Good!" Lex acknowledged his lieutenant's foresight. "Then get in touch with him immediately and offer him his usual fee to pass on some false information to Perry White, editor of The Daily Planet. Then contact Warren in Port Stanley -- the man owes me some favors and I'm about to call them in. Both Lane and Kent will rue the day they chose to meddle with Lex Luthor." ~^~^~^~^~^~^~ Lois and Clark had shared a wonderful dinner by candlelight. Conversation revolved around their current stories at work. Soon enough it was time for Lois to come clean about her lunch with Lex. She knew leaving Clark hanging hadn't been very considerate and she could also see it had taken a great deal of effort for him not to ask about it. She took a deep breath and faced him across the table. "Clark, I told Lex that it was over." Clark took a sip of his wine before speaking. "How did he take it?" "He was certain I was just anxious because we were moving too fast." Lois wiped her mouth and leaned forward on the table. "I told him I wasn't and that I was sorry if I'd led him on." "I would have thought that he'd have been a lot angrier when he found out." Lois was about to respond when his words registered. She pushed back from the table and quickly paced into the living room. Clark knew instantly that there was something she wasn't telling him. As she continued to pace, it dawned on him. He rose to go stand behind her. "You didn't tell him about us, did you?" he asked. She stopped and slowly turned to face him. She didn't have to confirm his question with words. Her expression said it all. Clark's anger rose, for what reason he wasn't sure. All he knew was that he felt. betrayed in some way. She'd told him she loved him. Why hadn't she been able to tell Luthor the same thing? Lois watched as Clark twirled and went back toward the kitchen. He started snatching the empty plates from the table to carry to the sink. She hurried after him. "Clark, please don't be like this." "Like what?" he asked as he faced her again. "Excuse me for getting a little upset because you didn't tell your boyfriend about your lover!" "That's not fair." "Isn't it?" Clark stared at her with a stern glare. "You won't tell anyone at work about us. I can't even tell my parents about us. And now this? What am I supposed to think?" He was more upset than he'd thought possible. Suddenly her not telling Luthor was very important. Lois sighed heavily and shoved a hand through her hair. "You're right," she told him softly. "All my insecurities." She turned away from him and slowly made her way back into the living room. Clark wanted to console her, but his bruised ego wouldn't allow it. Before either could formulate another thought, the phone rang. Lois looked down at the ringing phone, then back at Clark as he picked up the receiver in the kitchen. "Hello?" He listened to the caller for a moment, his expression growing serious. "Yes. No, no. We understand. Okay, Perry. Sure. We won't." When he finished the call, he faced Lois. "That was Perry. There's been a break in the Thomas drug investigation. A long time source informed him Thomas has been to Port Stanley at least six times over the past two years and it's highly unlikely the man was vacationing. He wants us on a plane to South America within the hour." Lois felt the sting of hot tears, knowing their conversation would have to wait. They were professionals and they had a job to do. She wiped her cheek and nodded her head. "Do you want to pick me up on the way?" "No. Just wait. It won't take me long to be ready." She didn't answer aloud, only nodded again. He took a deep breath and went to gather his things for their unexpected trip. Clark could tell Lois was disappointed they would have to put off their conversation for now. He was just as upset as she was, but knew this case was important to them both. They'd been trying to catch a break in the Thomas case for more than a month. From the way Perry talked they would be in and out of South America and able to return to concentrate on their relationship in a couple of days. At least he hoped so. Less then two hours later, and with not one word between them about their earlier disagreement, Lois and Clark boarded their airplane. ^~^~^~^~^~^~ Two days later, the reporting team was convinced Perry's tip had fallen through. They were unable to find anything to link businessman Adam Thomas to any kind of wrong doing at all, let alone a connection to the drug underworld that seemed to highly influence the small South American village of Port Stanley. Deciding to cut their losses and chalk one up to the unknown, Lois and Clark headed for the airport once again for the return trip home. "I really wish you'd talk to me," Lois told Clark as they made their way through the small airport to the appropriate gate. Clark shifted the bags he carried to the hand opposite Lois. "I think we should wait until we return home." "Yeah. there's something you need to add to the discussion," Lois said sarcastically. She was exasperated. She'd tried several times to talk with Clark and he'd told her he wanted to wait until they were home because he had something to say as well. It didn't do any good to argue, so she kept pace beside him toward the entrance to their plane. Clark wanted so badly to speak with her. He also felt he should wait until they were home. He'd had some time to think about things and to cool down. While he was a little hurt and disappointed that Lois hadn't told Luthor about their relationship, he could understand her hesitancy toward certain issues. After all, he'd shied away from many people because he felt he was different. He also knew a little of Lois' past emotional history. She, too, shied away from others, though for slightly different reasons, but the principle was the same. Neither knew very much about how this relationship should work. Because of that, he'd made the decision to apologize for how he`d acted. It couldn't hurt. He was going to throw another wrench into the works anyway. Once Lois found out about his alter-ego, he was sure she'd get as far from him as possible. Lois came to a halt when the security officer asked her to open her bag for a search. She gladly complied and waited patiently for him to finish. Clark was about to put his bag on the conveyor to send it through the metal detector when one of the guards lost control of the dog he held tightly by its leash. The dog barked loudly and headed straight for Clark's bag. It started biting the canvas and pulled with unforgiving force to free the bag from Clark's grasp. Clark's eyes darted between the dog and the officers. He still held the bag, but wasn't sure what to do. One of the officers rushed forward and pulled back on the dog's chain. "Heel," he shouted. The dog continued to go wild, attempting to tear into Clark's duffel. Finally the policemen managed to get the canine under control. "Open it!" the young officer shouted to Clark. Confused by the dog`s actions, Clark couldn't figure out what was happening. Obviously the canine thought there was something in his bag that shouldn't be. That was impossible. The only thing there was his clothes. He dropped the bag onto the table next to the metal detector and unzipped it. He'd already decided that if they wanted him to prove he was on the level, he would gladly accommodate them. Shock, fear, and every other emotion in the world ran through Clark's mind when he saw what was in his bag. How could he have missed the pungent smell? He could only think that he was too preoccupied with his thoughts of Lois, and he couldn't deny that he'd tried to ignore the decaying smells which seemed to pervade the small town. He felt his cheek make contact with a metal surface as he was roughly pushed to the table surface under him. Two police officers swore loudly as they cuffed him. Lois couldn't believe what she'd seen. Clark's bag was filled with small white, brick shaped items. She'd done enough drug investigations to know exactly what the items were. She heard the words that were being sworn in angry Spanish and saw what was happening to her partner. "Hey," she tried to yell in vain. A moment later she was bound just as tightly as Clark and both were ushered through the small airport and out into separate vehicles. She kept yelling, insisting their US citizenship should be taken into consideration and the proper authorities contacted. Her only response was that the proper authorities had been contacted and for her to shut her mouth. What was going on? Clark's mind raced to understand exactly what had happened. He had understood every word that had been said. They were being arrested for possession of narcotics. The bricks were believed to be cocaine. The question on Clark's mind was how the heck it had gotten into his bag. A short time later, his vehicle screeched to a halt outside the local police station. He could see the officers from the other car taking Lois inside. His door was opened and he was dragged out and led inside to be placed in a small, empty room with only two chairs and a table. There was also a mirror, most likely two-way, hanging on the wall. He was instructed to sit before the officers left. He had no idea where they'd taken Lois. What were they doing to her? Did she, too, have drugs in her bag? More to the point, how did they get out of this? Clark wasn't na‹ve. He knew enough to know that things were handled quite differently in these small impoverished nations. He would be tried quickly and if his guilt was proven, he'd be sent to some prison that was probably not very livable. If ever there was a time he needed to have a clear head, this was it. The door burst open and what appeared to be a high- ranking officer stepped inside. He looked Clark over very carefully before he spoke. "Where did you get the drugs?" he asked in heavily accented English. "They're not mine. I have no idea how they ended up in my bag." "Nonsense. It was your bag." "Believe me," Clark told him earnestly. "I have no idea how or why there were drugs in my bag." The man studied Clark for a moment before he dropped the piece of paper he held to the table. "This child. died this morning from an overdose. We believe you had something to do with that." Clark's eyes grew wide as saucers. "I assure you. I have no idea how that child got drugs!" Clark had wanted desperately to say he didn't know the child, but he couldn't. He and Lois had received information from the boy the first night they were in the country. They had both been surprised that such a young boy could know so much about what was going on around him. They'd figured that's how he made enough money to feed his family. His parents were both very ill and unable to work. "This child," the man said as he jabbed a finger onto the picture. "Was last seen talking to you and your lady friend." "I admit we talked to him," Clark said, his voice starting to rise in pitch from the panic he felt. "But we DID NOT give him drugs! We`re reporters for the Daily Planet in Metropolis, USA. We`re here on a story. The boy gave us some information. That`s all!" "Is your lady in this with you? We found no drugs in her bag." The man crossed to stand behind Clark. "Neither of us is into anything! We did not pick the drugs up from anyone." Clark looked up at the man with a fierce expression. "Look, we're US citizens. We have the right to contact the nearest Embassy." The man stood in silence for a long moment before he walked back to the door. Without another word, he left Clark alone again. Clark sighed and looked over at the image of the boy they'd talked to. He looked peaceful, almost as if he were asleep. What happened to him? How had he gotten the drugs? Clark had been almost certain the child was not strung out; would have bet money on it. Apparently that assumption had been wrong. Clark tried to figure a way out of this. He was obviously going to be charged with possession and his or Lois' status as US citizens clearly meant nothing here. He would be sent to prison for an indefinite amount of time, if the trial followed suit with the arrest, which had clearly started to resemble a set- up to him. Hopefully Lois would be released so she could go back home to call up reinforcements. Once back in the states, surely she would be able to figure out what was going on. The Department of Foreign Affairs would certainly be able to offer support and help to straighten all this out. And if all else failed, he could wait until the time was right and escape with a little super help. A long sigh escaped his lips. He hated to use his abilities for such purposes, but in this instance he may not have a choice. If someone truly had set this up, his alter ego might be the source of escape for the reporter. ~^~^~^~^~^~^~ Lois had been questioned and had given up on the sarcasm when it seemed to just get her into further trouble. She'd given the same answers that Clark had. She neither understood nor did she know how the drugs had gotten into her partner's bag. She'd been dismayed when she learned of their young informant's death. When her story stayed the same after being asked more than twice, Lois started to insist the Daily Planet and the US Embassy be contacted. The officers ignored her and changed tactics. They tried to get her to tell them about Clark's illegal activities. That angered her and she began to insist more forcibly that the proper US authorities be contacted. She calmed only when someone asked: `How well do you know Mr. Kent?' She'd immediately clammed up and began to really take in the unfolding situation. Reluctantly, she surmised that Clark had already been found guilty and the best thing she could do was figure out how to get out of here so she could find out who had gone to so much trouble to set this up. And someone had done that. Clark wasn't a drug dealer. He didn't give drugs to small children. He didn't transport them or do any of the other things they were accusing him of. She'd been asked if Clark had been alone right before they left their hotel. The truth was he had. They hadn't shared a room so Clark was alone in his the whole time they were here. They'd decided that was best until they talked their feelings out over their argument. He'd also gone out a few times alone, not to mention those dang disappearances. Lois stopped to think about that. Clark `did' disappear a lot. She banished those thoughts immediately and started to evaluate the situation. It was obvious they'd gotten too close to someone, but whom? Surely they'd missed something in their investigation. There had to be some bit of information that would answer this puzzle. They'd been about to leave the country when they'd been arrested. Had they truly overlooked something that would lead to all of this? Or had they simply angered someone by asking questions? Before she could think that through, the door to her room came open and she was ushered out and down the hall to a small cell. She was told Clark's trial would be held first thing the following morning. She couldn't believe it. How could such injustices be so readily accepted? Again, she started her demands that proper authorities from the United States be contacted. And again, she was told to hush; things were done differently in Port Stanley and no one would be contacted. Clark would be tried and that was that! She'd sighed heavily at that. Clark wouldn't be allowed to defend himself. These small countries worked on their own set of laws. No matter how loudly she protested or how many times she demanded they couldn't do this to two United States citizens, things remained the same. She was put back into a cell to await a bogus trial that would convict her partner for crimes he never committed. He was a dead man! ~^~^~^~^~^~^~ Guilty! He'd been found guilty, not only of possession of the narcotics, but for murder as well. It was determined that the small boy had died of the same drugs that had been found in Clark's bag. He just wondered how in the heck that had been determined so quickly. Clark sat in disbelief as he stared at the rigid face of the judge who shuffled a few papers before speaking. "It is the sentence of this court for you," the judge told Clark, "to be held in one of the local prisons until formal arrangements are made." The man gathered his papers and exited the room. Again, Clark could only stare ahead. What had just happened? He'd been sentenced to be imprisoned in some place that barely passed as a jail until formal sentencing arrangements were made? What did that mean? Though he'd traveled extensively before settling in Metropolis, he'd never been privy to the goings on inside the inner world of impoverished countries such as this. He'd seen a lot and worked side by side with natives to improve their way of life, but he'd never seen just how the underworld in these places worked. Though he'd figured he'd be railroaded, he'd had no idea it would be so swift or so severe. He'd spent the biggest portion of the night sitting on the cot in his cell trying to figure out what to do and how to get out of the mess he'd found himself in. It was obvious he had made someone pretty angry at him or that he and Lois had missed an extremely pertinent detail during their investigation. Though if the latter was the case, it didn't explain why he was the only one being charged and sentenced to prison. Maybe it was time for Superman to make an appearance. Clark glanced at Lois. She looked as if she was in shock. Her eyes were wide and clearly reflected the fear inside her. How could he risk anything happening to her if he chose to escape as Superman? What would they do to her? No, he had to wait until she was safely out of this place before he did anything. It would take him only minutes to get away and maybe then, he and Lois could get to work trying to figure out what was going on. Lois felt lightheaded. They'd just sentenced Clark to prison. And what else would they do to him? Formal arrangements? Were these people whacked? She swiped a hand across her face as the sting of hot tears pierced the backs of her lids. Her large brown pools were glued to Clark. What must he be feeling right now? She'd spent the most awful night of her life, pacing and wracking her brains trying to figure this whole mess out. How had they gone from investigating a story to becoming the story?! Her thoughts were put on hold as she watched the man she loved be manhandled by an officer. A large officer hauled Clark to his feet to be transported to the prison immediately. "Could I at least talk to her?" He motioned to Lois with his head. The officer stepped over to consult another man before leading Clark down the hall to a room. A moment later Lois was shoved in with him. The two officers stood guard by the open door. Lois hated that she and Clark would have witnesses to their farewell, but it was better than nothing. "Clark!" She went to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. His hands were bound behind his back so he had to settle for her comfort, unable to return it. She drew back and looked at him. "We have to get you out of this. They'll kill you in that prison." "I know. Lois, I'm so sorry." "For what? You didn't put those drugs in your bag. Did you?" Why had she asked that? Lois had banished those thoughts the day before when the officers questioning her implied Clark's guilt. There was a lot she didn't know about her partner; she would be first to admit that. But the one thing she did know was that he was no drug dealer. "No! How can you ask me that?" Clark was a little hurt and very annoyed. He'd spent the last twelve hours pacing his cell in an attempt to come up with some kind of plan. "Listen to me, Lois. When you get home." And she would get home. They'd told him they were putting her on a plane within the hour. She was to leave this country and not come back. "Call my parents." "I will. And I'll figure out what the hell is going on." "I know you'll try, but we have to be honest. Whoever has done this means business." "I know that. They went to a lot of trouble to set you up and that kind of thing takes a lot of money and influence, and that is traceable. It has to be." Clark wanted so badly to touch her. Large tears filled her eyes as she pulled him back into an embrace. He would get out of here. He had to. for her. "Lois," he said into her neck. He waited until she drew back before he continued. "I will wait a few days. let them lock me up, then I'll get out." "Get out? How?" "Lois," he said and glanced away from her for a moment. He met her eyes with a serious expression. "Look at me. I *will* get out. There's only one thing that could keep me from it." "One thing? Clark, what are talking about?" "Take my glasses off." She lifted her hand and did as she was told. He looked so much like someone else. How could she have been fooled by a pair of glasses? She knew exactly what he meant. "Oh god!" Lois drew away in shock. Her partner, the man she thought she knew, was someone totally different. "Please, please understand," he begged. All further talk was cut off when the officers stepped through the open door and Lois was demanded to leave. Quickly she slipped his glasses back in place. She didn't want to leave like this. She couldn't let Clark think she was angry. Well, she was, but she was more hurt than anything. Her mind raced as she stepped forward to grab Clark again. She was held at bay by a strong hand on her arm. Lois protested loudly as she was dragged out of the room, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. "I may not understand completely, but I'll be waiting," she whispered. Clark sighed and let his head drop. Her words comforted him a little. It would make the next few days easier to endure. "I love you, Clark," came a final whispered thought through his hearing before Lois was shoved out of the building. Clark caught a final glance of the woman he loved more than life as he was taken out to the corridor to be ushered to the prison. There was no way he'd stay here in some hellhole any longer than he had to. He would return to her and together they would figure this whole thing out. Unfortunately for Clark, escaping as Superman wasn't an option at present. He'd been taken to the local jail and thrown into a large, overcrowded cell. There was no way that Clark could use his super powers in front of his curious cellmates. Clark settled down to wait till night, hoping that in the darkness when the others were sleeping, he might be able to leave surreptitiously. But it seemed that none of his fellow inmates slept much. There didn't seem to be much trust amongst these rough looking prisoners and perhaps they were too afraid of not waking up in the morning. He would have to wait until these mysterious arrangements were made and hope for some privacy to disappear. ~^~^~^~^~^~^~ "Is it done?" Lex asked the man standing behind him. He watched the commotion outside the seedy little courthouse as Lois was pushed inside a waiting vehicle. "It is. And he's being sent to Purgatory." "Excellent. Men tend to get lost there." "No one comes back from Purgatory," the man assured Lex. A wide smile graced the lips of the most evil monster alive. He took a drag from his cigar before speaking again. "And the insurance? Is it in place in case Kent's alien savior shows?" "The stone's buried just inside the door. The super hero won't get in without feeling the affects." "Very good. Our boy scout in tights will certainly try to rescue his friend. He's so predictable. I want to be notified immediately." "The instant he shows up," the man assured him. "But you do realize Superman will probably fly off again when he realizes the situation?" Lex smiled widely. "Yes. And by then, Kent will be but a memory." He reached into his jacket slowly, grasping cool steel. "You *have* given the order to do away with Kent in a few days?" "He will be executed by week's end." "Very well done. And Kent's body? The stone? I want that little gem returned after Superman shows up and Kent has been taken care of. Should the 'boy wonder' fail to show up, send it back as soon as Kent's dead. Superman won't be needed then." "The stone will be returned upon Kent's death and the body will be lost forever. I've already made all the arrangements, and you can rely on me, sir. Everything will be as you wish." "Good. I don't want that little bitch to have it back to grieve over him. I want her to always wonder what happened to him." "But I thought you wanted proof of his death sent back?" "Oh, I do. Send. his clothes, his wallet, glasses. and a lock of hair." Lex grinned, more to himself than to the man before him. "That should really keep her mind occupied. I just don't want a body sent back. I want her to always wonder what his last days were like. Did he suffer? What was done with his remains? You know, the kinds of things that can drive someone out of their mind." The man smiled brightly. "Most evil, Mr. Luthor." "That was nothing," he said as he turned to the man and withdrew his gun. Lex's heart fluttered as he saw the fear register in his victim's eyes. He squeezed the trigger of the gun he held. An instant later, the man's body slumped to the floor. "That, Mr. Parsons, was most evil. Didn't anyone ever tell you that when dealing with the devil, it would be best to keep some insurance handy?" He turned the barrel of the gun upward and blew the smoke away from the silencer. "Most evil." Lex turned on his heel and walked quickly away, the sound of his malevolent laughter left echoing behind him. ~^~^~^~^~^~^~ Clark had been put into the backs of vans, the bellies of planes, thrown into empty rooms, and now was being led through dark, damp corridors. They were traveling downward, into the belly of what could only be termed a dungeon. He'd made a few inquiries earlier and they were ignored or answered with a firm order to shut up. He'd remained silent about his true identity for fear of the unknown. He couldn't risk the safety of his parents or Lois for that of his own. No. He'd wait and when the moment was right, he'd escape and try to help sort this whole mess out. It had been nearly two days since he'd been taken from the courthouse. Lois should be home and about ready to crack this case wide open. Clark was halted outside a door. One of the guards turned to him and ordered him to strip. He was told to hand over his shoestrings and was given a thin shirt and pants. All of his other personal items had already been taken days before. Once the guards were satisfied with his appearance, one of them opened the door and the other shoved Clark inside. "Get comfortable. You're going to be here a while." The door clanged shut, sounding loudly off the walls. Clark let his gaze roam over his surroundings even as his mind raced to understand why he was suddenly in so much pain. That could only mean one thing: kryptonite. His eyes roamed the cell that was only about ten feet by ten feet, made of stone. There was nothing in the tiny place save the pan on the floor by the door and the bucket in the corner. He could only imagine the use for that. Could they have hidden the rock under one of the stones? That had to be the explanation. The deadly substance had to be here. What other explanation could there be for how he felt? And if that was true, did that mean someone had figured out who he was? Is that why he was here, in this place? Was someone getting revenge in a sick, demented way? Could that mean his parents and Lois were now in trouble? Would they suffer because of him? No, that couldn't be true, he immediately told himself. If whoever had done this wanted to hurt Lois, she would have been subjected to their evil plans when they had her in their clutches, assuming *they* were part of the police force that had put him in this prison. He sighed heavily. This was a little worse than he'd first thought. His head swam as he became lightheaded. If there really was kryptonite here, how would he live through it? He struggled over to the farthest wall and sank to sit in the stream of sunlight coming in through the small opening at the top of the cell. Hopefully the life giving rays would be enough to keep him alive until help could come. He could already feel his powers starting to drain. He'd horribly underestimated his captors and now it might cost him his life. <> He closed his eyes and tried to remember happier days. ~^~^~^~^~^~^~ Lois threw the file across the desk. Nothing. Always nothing. She'd been consumed with trying to figure out what had happened to Clark. She'd returned home nearly two weeks ago and had used every contact she could think of to find out what had happened to him. Lois had rushed from the airport when she got home straight to Clark's apartment. The place had been torn apart. Though nothing seemed to have been taken, it was obvious someone had been looking for something. Knowing it was useless, she still busied herself picking through the remains only to come up empty handed. That night she settled in Clark's bed, clutching the shirt he'd worn the night before they left for South America. It still held the faint smell of Clark's scent and helped comfort her a little. It hadn't even occurred to her that she had figured out that he was Superman until the following day. She had only been concerned for the man she'd fallen in love with and spent the last few days with. Martha and Jonathan flew in the next day and together the trio went to work to find out what happened to Clark. Hot tears had stung Lois' eyes as she looked at the two people alive who loved Clark as much as she did and told them their son had been convicted of ludicrous crimes, then sentenced to some third world prison. Martha's strength had shown through as the older woman grasped the information she'd been given. Yet, it was all too plain for Lois to see a mother was dying inside for the loss of her son. Jonathan was there to offer comfort that only he could; a strong arm around her shoulders, a firm grip cupped around her small arm. Once the Kents had collected themselves, they sat down and listened while Lois related everything that had happened in the past few days. She told them about her confession of love for their son, only to be engulfed her Martha's arms. The older woman told her she was so glad the younger couple had finally come to their senses and admitted their love for one another. Lois went on to tell them about the three days of bliss she and Clark had shared, then about the disagreement just before the trip to South America. She continued with the details of the investigation, their arrest, Clark's trial and conviction. Lois also told them that Clark had shared a certain secret with her. Both Martha and Jonathan agreed he'd done that for Lois' peace of mind, but they were also happy that he'd chosen to share all of himself with the woman he loved. That night a young woman was welcomed into a new home and the bonds of family were solidified. The trio had searched diligently since then for answers to their mystery. Nothing had panned out. Tips from sources went dry almost immediately. No one knew why this had happened to a reporter from the Daily Planet. Perry had called in every favor he was owed. Other than the initial arrest and trial, nothing else could be found to indicate that Clark Kent had ever been to Port Stanley. Whoever was doing this had virtually wiped him from the surface of the planet. Disgusted beyond belief, Lois was coming to the end of her rope. She'd never give up. Clark needed her. She would fight with every fiber in her being not to let him down. But she couldn't spend every second on it anymore. Perry needed her to cover other stories. The Kents had reluctantly gone back home to run the farm, and she'd promised them she'd bring their son back. Only now that was something that seemed to be impossible. Lois and the Kents had taken into consideration that Clark was still Superman and that he would eventually get out of wherever they'd taken him. When he didn't come back after a week, everyone began to worry that his secret had been discovered and he was unable to escape. By the end of the second week, they all knew something went horribly wrong. Lois quickly composed an article that stated Superman had to attend to some personal problems. Though not a total lie, it left a lot of unanswered questions. If Clark couldn't be found, Lois would have to write a more in depth article at a later date. She'd called in the FBI and other government agencies. They, too, had come up empty. It seemed they had no authority in the small South American country and it would be almost impossible to get an American out of one of those prisons. Without anymore options, Lois had even called Lex. That would probably have gone over like a ton of bricks with Clark. But Lex did have contacts and pull all over the world. Only this time even he had come up empty. Lois wanted to cry at the thought that Clark might not come home again. She lowered her head to hold it in her hands. "Lois Lane?" She looked up to see a messenger standing in front of her desk. "Yes?" "This is for you." Lois took the offered envelope and opened it slowly. It was a telegram from the Kents. As she read, she went pale and her heart screamed in pain. ^~^~^~^~^~^~ Lois stood silently beside the Kents. They had gotten the official message from the Department of Foreign Affairs in response to their many inquiries into Clark's arrest, trial, and imprisonment. It read simply, "This is to inform you that on April 14, 1993, in accordance with the laws established by this country, Clark Jerome Kent was found guilty of possession of narcotics and murder in the first degree. On April 18 at 12 noon, local time, he was executed for his crimes. Due to the nature of his crimes, it is our right to dispose of his body in our facility. May God have mercy on his soul." Lois would have never believed the correspondence if it hadn't been for the fact that Martha and Jonathan's message came with his effects. His wallet, items that had been in his pockets, his clothes, shoes, his glasses, and a lock of his hair were all included. Lois, being the type of reporter she was, had immediately had the hair sent for DNA confirmation with other strands she'd gotten from his mother, hair Martha had cut from Clark's head before he'd become invulnerable. Two days later the results were conclusive. Both samples belonged to Clark. That, by itself, didn't mean he was dead, but the simple fact that hair had been cut from Clark's head at all did indicate that something had gone horribly wrong. Government agencies were contacted again. Someone from each authority insisted it was not their place to interfere with another country's laws. However, the UN sent a representative to discover what had actually happened to the reporter. The official report that came back was delivered personally to the Kents' residence, just as the official notice of Clark's execution had been, by a representative of the United Nations and stated that conclusive evidence had been discovered to substantially determine Clark's guilt. A simple `I'm sorry' was the last the little family would glean from their government. Martha and Jonathan had been devastated. Lois had flown to Smallville immediately after she'd received the telegraph from the Kents informing her that something was wrong with Clark. Martha had fully denied that her son could be dead. He was invulnerable! How could he have been executed? The trio threw around scenario after scenario, trying desperately to cling to some kind of hope that Clark was still alive and that this was all some kind of horrible mistake. When the DNA report came back proving beyond doubt that the lock of hair was indeed Clark's, the small family had had to face the fact that something far more serious had taken place. Did Clark's mysterious murderer know he was Superman? Had they injected him with some liquid form of Kryptonite to be able to kill him so quickly? Or was this all some kind of cruel joke? Was Clark alive somewhere, suffering an unbearable fate? Those thoughts led Lois back to Port Stanley, unable and unwilling to accept the UN's evaluation of the situation. What she discovered in the small country had nearly killed her. Lois had spoken to the executor himself, after several days of insisting the authorities give her some kind of answers she could live with. The officer told her that Clark had become ill when he'd been put into his cell and had almost welcomed his death to end his suffering. "It was over quickly," she'd been told. Though she had a nearly impossible time believing the man, eventually her heart had to face the facts presented to her. She'd spent the next two days swirling all the events around in her head. Somewhere during that time she realized that the person who'd done this thing knew Clark and while this person might not have known he was Superman, it was well known Clark and Superman were friends. With that fact, Kryptonite could have been used as insurance in case Superman showed up to attempt an escape for his friend. Unbeknownst to anyone, Superman was already there. For Clark, that meant possible deadly results. In this case, possible had become reality. Lois took her devastating news back to Smallville to Clark's parents. Together, the small group grieved that night, finally accepting with their mind what they had refused to accept with their heart. They just couldn`t believe that Clark was gone. However, the following day a memorial service was planned for the son and most recently, the companion that was lost. The more rational side of the adults knew they had to let Clark go. It would do none of them any good to hold on to something that couldn't be again. Martha had insisted they erect a small stone in Clark's memory. It was placed beside his great- grandfather Kent's stone in the family plot in Mt. Olive Cemetery in Smallville. Nearly all the town had turned out to say their good-byes to the wonderful man that would never come home again. With the service over, the crowd began to slowly file away. Lois remained behind, looking down at the name on the stone. Never again would she see the man that name belonged to. She wouldn't see his smile, hear his laugh, or feel his touch. "Oh, Clark," she breathed through fresh tears. "I will always love you. I won't rest until your killers are brought to justice." She bent and placed the rose she held on the stone. "You'll never be forgotten. And I will never forget how much you loved me those last days." She stood and hurried to catch up to the car waiting to take them back to the farm. She may have lost the only man she had ever been truly loved by, but she found solace in the family he left behind. ~^~^~^~^~^~^~ What time was it now? Hell, what day was it? How long had he been here? Weeks? It seemed like years. He laughed out loud. How stupid could one man be? His determination to keep his secret quiet had caused that secret to become nonexistent. Though he knew he couldn't just blurt out that he was Superman, he could have taken into consideration the severity of his situation. But no. He'd thought it would be a piece of cake to wait a day or two before escaping. Only he hadn't thought about the lack of sunlight and he certainly hadn't expected kryptonite to be buried in his cell. At least he could rest a little easier knowing those bastards didn't know about his other identity. They'd come back into his cell a few days after he'd been thrown in and dug up the fatal rock. It was just a small piece, buried near the door, but it had done its damage. The guards had joked to each other in Spanish about how the `flying hero' had failed to come for his friend. Unaware Clark could understand their taunts, they'd continued about how, if the boy wonder had come, they had been instructed to kill him slowly. It was a relief to Clark to know the kryptonite had been put there as insurance in case the super hero showed. While they didn't know he actually had, which Clark felt was tragically ironic, it did relieve his anxiety about his family having to suffer because of his secret. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," he muttered. It may have been some consolation his secret hadn't been revealed, but it didn't help solve his dilemma. His exposure to the green gloater had lasted long enough to drain his powers. The lack of sunlight would ensure those wouldn't return. That had been. how long ago? He wasn't sure any more. It had been long enough for his hair to grow below his collar and his slow growing whiskers to start to resemble a beard. The guards had come for his shoes on what he estimated to be the second week he was locked away. They had also cut a lock of his hair. Knowing his invulnerability was completely gone, he realized he was in deep trouble. He'd spent the next three days trying to figure a way out of the whole mess. But Clark became frustrated and decided it was easier to accept his fate. He'd searched frantically for an escape, any escape, with none to be found. It would be up to Lois and his folks now. And he'd decided that was all the help he needed. Where was everyone? He'd thought that the day he gave up and every day since. How long ago had that been? He had no idea. It had been well after the day they came for his shoes. He'd been convinced it was only a matter of time before someone discovered what had happened and he was on his way out of this dungeon. But no one had come for him. No one had figured out what happened to him. Were they even trying? Would they give up on him as easily as he'd given up on himself? That had been the thought that had made him realize that no matter what, he couldn't lay down and die. There had to be a way out of this and he'd find it. sooner or later. ~^~^~^~^~^~^~ Funny the things you tell yourself in order to keep going. Clark had decided there was a way out of this mess and that he'd find it sooner or later. Only trouble was sooner had become later. a lot later. The guard came by earlier and had graciously told him that it was October 20th. He'd been here for six months! That had only served to make his outlook even bleaker. So now he sat slumped in the corner, miserable, cold and afraid. What must his parents think? And Lois? Oh sweet Lois. He missed her so. The ache for her was nearly unbearable those first weeks. Though painful, he could at least think about her now and still be able to breathe. <> He smiled as he remembered their last night in his bed. Those thoughts would be his only company now. And he'd ached every day for not resolving their standing argument. Clark had had plenty of time to think. Hell, there was nothing else to do. He frequently thought of how much differently he could have handled things with Lois. He could picture their entire conversation in his mind. He'd have agreed that telling Luthor would have been like flaunting their relationship in his face, something he never wanted to do. He would have told her that he understood her reluctance in telling everyone about their relationship until she was comfortable. After all, who was he to judge someone wanting to keep things to themselves. He'd kept a huge secret his entire life. There were other times his thoughts revolved around who had sent him to this place. Obviously it was someone with a great many connections and plenty of influence. That automatically made him think of Luthor. Not only did he have the means to pull something like this off, he was also evil enough to do it. So, had Luthor found out about his relationship with Lois? He would have been angry, but would he have been angry enough to do this? Clark immediately answered in the positive. Lex Luthor was the type of man who did not like to lose. He'd set his sights on Lois and to have her simple partner win her affections would have infuriated him. Clark was afraid for Lois. If Luthor really had set all this up, what must he be doing to her now? Had he told her it was he who took away her beloved? Just to torment her? Was this all part of some huge plan to get her back into his bed? Wait! He remembered a conversation he and Lois had had in bed that last night. She made the comment about not allowing her feelings to surface for fear of losing control, until him. Did that mean she hadn't been intimate with Luthor? He sure hoped so. He also hoped she was safe from that monster's influence now. He closed his eyes, squeezing out the pain being locked away like this was causing him. He needed to figure a way out of all of this. He needed to get back to Lois. ~^~^~^~^~^~^~ Being an ordinary man was not all it was cracked up to be. Why had he dreamed of that for so long? The super powers that had often been his greatest obstacle in life would now be his blessing. Oh, how he wished he'd done things differently. He should have told Lois the truth. She shouldn't have had to figure out such a thing the way she had. Or had he imagined that whole exchange? He was certain that glint in her eyes was recognition. Her breathed sigh of disbelief certainly meant she'd figured out his secret. If so, what must she think now? Could she and his parents believe he wasn't coming home on his own accord? Or did they believe him hurt and without his powers; unable to get home? Poor Perry. Clark was sure the man would feel guilty because it was his tip that had sent them to South America. The old editor had probably turned the investigative world upside down to get him home. And Jimmy. He would be terrified for his friend. With the abilities the researcher possessed on the computer, Clark was positive it would have only taken Jimbo a matter of days to get to the bottom of all this mess. Had Luthor really covered his tracks that well? Clark automatically answered that with an affirmative yes. He'd been investigating Luthor for months and had yet to link him to anything more shady than a parking ticket. Evidence gleaned with his powers would have never held up in court, so Clark was forced to try to dig out the dirt the old fashioned way. Only there appeared to be no dirt to dig. Luthor was good. He knew how to hide and hide well. It also appeared he could do the same with someone else. Though he wasn't sure this had been the philanthropist's doing, it was so much easier to lay the blame on someone. A man could only sit in solitude for so long before he started to lose his mind. Clark was fast approaching that point and Luthor was the perfect target on which to direct his anger and bitterness. ~^~^~^~^~^~^~ Same thoughts, different day, Clark mused as he settled on the floor against the wall. He'd been served up his usual allotment of slush for the day and had spent the afternoon roaming his cell in hopes of finding a loose stone or two. When he failed, once again, to find anything that could help him to escape, he gave up and decided to sit and think, just like he did every day now. He was staring at the blank, gray wall as usual when he heard the small door on the bottom of his cell door open. It wasn't time to gather his waste bucket. What was going on? His eyes widened when he saw what had been pushed through the opening. Clark scrambled across the floor, staring down at the flat book and the lone pencil. Paper! Glorious paper! Who had brought these to him? "Thank you," Clark cried out to his `angel of mercy'. As he settled against the wall in the small stream of sunlight, he thought it funny to be so happy over paper and a pencil. But with these he could talk to Lois and to his parents, even if it was only here in this dungeon and in his own mind. For the first time since he'd been locked up, Clark cried softly. Several minutes later, he wiped his face and started writing. ~^~^~^~^~^~^~ `It's cold. Cold all the time. The guard told me yesterday it's May. May! I've been here over a year. It seems unbelievable, yet I know the reality of it all.' ++++ `Being a normal man. That's what I've always wanted. How na‹ve was I? Normal. it's taught me just what humility is. It's taught me that any man can be broken. It's taught me just how fragile our existence is.' ++++ `Sometimes the cold is so unbearable. My bones ache. I lost feeling in my feet months ago. I was given a pair of thin pants, an even thinner shirt, and a pair of slip on canvas shoes when they took my clothes. The shoes seem to hold the cold even more. And the clothes do little to help. So I just sit and shiver. I do think I'm beginning to get used to it though. I hardly notice temperature changes any more. It's just cold all the time.' ++++ `I have to sharpen my pencil on the rocks. Never thought I'd miss a sharpener. Whoever it was that gave me that first pencil and notebook brings me another every few weeks. Sometimes I run out long before he gets here with the new ones. I use that time to try and remember what everyone looks like. `You wouldn't recognize me. My hair is long and filthy. Hell, I'm filthy. I haven't bathed since I've been here. How long is that now? Oh yeah. Today is December 20, 1995. I've been here two years, eight months, almost to the day. I finally got smart and asked the guard for the date about three months ago. Since then I've been keeping track. Not much point though. (me laughs hysterically) `I'm not getting out of here, am I? This is where I will die. Damn! What must you all think? I pray they told you I was already dead. I couldn't stand to know any of you have hurt each day not knowing what was going on. I miss you so much.' ++++ `My sweet, beautiful Lois. I bet you've grown more beautiful over the years. Honey, I've tried to remember what you look like. Nowadays all I can see when I try to picture you are those gorgeous eyes. But your touch. I can still feel that even through the unbearable cold that finally faded into numbness. The only time I feel alive at all is when I think of your touch. `Do you still think of me?' ++++ `You won't believe what happened today. The guard spoke to me! Not the one that tells me the date, but the other one. the one that brings me the paper and pencils. He told me `Good morning'. Can you believe it?!' ++++ `Wow! My `angel of mercy' has been a guard in this hellhole for over fifty years. He was only twenty-two years old when he `sold his soul to the devil'. Whatever that means. He said we'd talk more later. Hope it doesn't take three weeks like it did this last time.' ++++ `He won't tell me his name, just that he's a monster. He'd stayed watch over men that he knew were innocent. Men have died here from lack of food, water, and from the unsanitary conditions. To him they were nameless souls he never took the time to acknowledge. So why me?' ++++ `The guard hasn't talked to me in two months. I'm beginning to think I imagined the whole thing. `Mom, Dad. I guess you're both pretty disappointed in me. I should have had enough sense to get myself out of this mess. I was thinking of you. I didn't want whoever did this to hurt you or Lois. When I realized it was time to make a move, I couldn't. `I've tried to get out. I really have. I had thought maybe a few loose stones could be pried up and used to dig. Digging every day would be better than just sitting here. No loose stones. `No stones to use for a hold to scour the wall to the small opening about fifteen feet off the floor either. I can see a tiny speck of the sky, just enough to drive me crazy with wanting. I want so badly just to see that beautiful, blue blanket again. I would willingly live out my days as just an ordinary man if I could do that one thing.' ++++ `This situation seems so surreal. I have been here for over four years! How the hell is that even possible? `I wonder sometimes what happened to Clark Kent on the outside. Do you all know he's alive and suffering so miserably? I would think not at this stage. And for everyone's sanity, I would certainly hope not.' ++++ `My `angel of mercy' seems to have disappeared. I haven't heard from him in. nearly two and half years now. I still receive paper and a fresh pencil every other month without fail. Maybe he convinced someone else to be a little compassionate. I just wish he'd talk to me again. I was beginning to think he might actually help me out of here.' ++++ `I have over thirty of these notebooks now. Sometimes I write things I remember from growing up. Sometimes I only write one word: Lois. I have letters to you, my dearest love. I have letters to my folks. I've even written to myself. I've drawn a few hundred pictures and spent even more time just lying on the hard floor staring at the ceiling. `Sometimes I talk to myself, just to hear a voice in this unbearable silence. I sing, I laugh, I cry. Lois, I can still hear your voice the one time I heard you sing at the Metro Club. That was beautiful. something I will never hear again. `You have no idea what isolation can do to a man. I have thoughts of killing everyone who had anything to do with putting me in this hellhole. I have thoughts of hurting the people I love for not finding me and getting me out of here. I even entertain thoughts of taking my own life to end this suffering. `I tried once, you know? To kill myself. I took my shirt off and wrapped it around my neck, determined to hold it tight until I lost my air and slipped into unconsciousness. All I did was succeed in giving myself a horrible headache. I threw up for two days. Haven't tried to hang myself again.' ++++ `I found out today why my `angel of mercy' hasn't talked to me again. After all this time, another guard finally spoke to me. The older guard died. over a year ago. Before that he was ill and had to quit work. It seems he was known to slip the prisoners things like paper and pencils to help them pass the time. A friend of his has continued his quest out of respect for his lost comrade. These people seem to be loyal to one another if nothing else.' ++++ `Today is February 28, 2002. 2002! Wow! A new century has dawned. Was there all kinds of paranoia around the turn of the century like folks were predicting? Bet it was something to see. `Oh yeah. Today is also my birthday. I am 35 years old. In April, I will have been here for nine years. Nine long, excruciating years. It just amazes me I haven't lost my mind. or at least much of it. `I can tell you that being here has changed me considerably. Mom, Dad, the gentle son you once knew no longer exists. Lois, honey, your compassionate, loving partner is gone forever. Clark Kent really is dead. The only thing left is this sorry ass man that writes and talks to himself to keep some kind of presence of mind. `I do hope the best for you all. I hope you've moved on, grieved for my passing and built a new life without me. They say time heals all wounds. In my case, it has created those far too deep to ever heal. `I know I will only leave this place in my death. I've accepted that. After my passing and one day after all of yours, I hope we're united again. I love you all.' ++++ `It took a while for the guard to talk to me again. He slipped me a new book three days ago and told me hello. He told me not to worry. Warren would soon set me free. I don't know about that, but I sure wish someone would.' ~^~^~^~^~^~^~ Clark was about to lift his book into his lap again, when his cell door opened. Several guards entered and stood at attention. Another man, one clearly of importance in the outside world, entered and looked around in disgust. His eyes lighted on Clark. Both could only stare at the other. What the hell was going on now? This was the first time Clark had seen another person face to face since he'd been here. He was actually shocked. and afraid. The man turned and said a few words to one of the guards before he approached Clark. He stopped a few steps beside him, then kneeled to get a better look. "What is your name?" the man demanded. "Do." Clark's dry mouth had trouble forming the words. It had been sometime since he'd last talked to himself; he'd given up in favor of just writing. With difficulty, he swallowed and tried again. "Does it matter?" Clark answered, barely above a whisper. It had been so long since he'd been known as anyone, what did this man want to know his name for? And there was something about this man he didn't like. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction. "It matters considerably to you," the man told him. "I was told that a once famous reporter from the Daily Planet was here in Purgatory. You're not native, so I take it you might be the one." "What if I am?" "Then my trip has not been wasted." The man's eyes strayed to the books lying beside Clark. Clark followed his gaze to the pile of notebooks. "Don't even think about it," he told the man fiercely. They had taken everything from him. He'd be damned if they'd take his thoughts as well. The man's brows rose at the boldness he heard coming from the young man before him. "If you'd confirm my suspicions, it will not be necessary for me to look at those." Clark stared down his opponent for several moments before he spoke. "My name was Clark at one time." The man nodded his head once in apparent approval. He'd heard what he came to hear. He stood and faced the guards. "Get him cleaned up and put some clothes on him. I want him on the boat this afternoon." Clark pushed up off the floor in obvious shock. "What?" The man turned back to look at his captive. "No one has ever left Purgatory alive, but you have earned a reprieve." He gave Clark a smile and turned to go. "Come on," the guard ordered Clark. He grabbed roughly at one of his arms. "My books," Clark protested. "Put the books in a bag," the guard told his comrade. Clark was hustled out of his cell and down the corridor. After nine long years, he was leaving his tomb. But what lay ahead for him? Was he to go from one death to another? He was sure he'd find out soon enough. ~^~^~^~^~^~^~ Clark sighed deeply and leaned back to rest a bit against a crate. Actually standing outside and breathing fresh, clean air was overwhelming. This was his first chance to enjoy his freedom since leaving his cell. Although cloudy, Clark was basking in the sight of the sky above him. The feel of the wind on his face, the sounds drifting around him, and even the sight of other people threatened to send his system into sensory overload. He stood on a pier, beside one of the guards from the prison, waiting on some ship that man had said he should be on. They'd graciously stripped him of his rags earlier and gave him an icy shower, straight out of a hose. He didn't feel much cleaner, even in the newer clothes, but he had been grateful to feel the water on his body. It was the first time he'd felt that much water in nine long years. And why him? Why was he waiting to board a ship? Where was he bound now? Maybe he'd find all the answers he sought before long. What seemed like days later, a small cargo ship could be seen coming into the docking area. Clark watched as the ship came in to dock. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a black car pull up. The man who had ordered him from his cell earlier emerged and waved a hand to Clark's guard. "Come on," the guard ordered. Clark followed slowly down the old wooden platform, until they were standing directly in front of the other man. The man looked Clark over a moment before he spoke. "I should introduce myself. I am Warren." Clark gave a slight nod and readjusted the bag he held over his shoulder that contained his only possessions in the world. The man noticed his struggle. "Take that bag for him," he ordered another man beside him. "Can't you see this man is weak? We were given specific orders to take care of him." The man shuffled to do as he was told and took the bag from a reluctant Clark. "It's okay. He'll simply take it to your quarters on board. They won't be harmed," Warren assured Clark. Clark eyed the bag warily as the man who took it swung it over his own shoulder. By now, a man from aboard the ship had approached the group. "I am First Mate of the `Countess'." Warren extended his hand. "Warren," he stated simply. "I was told you are the best." "I am. You will be carried to your destination post haste." "Very good." Warren turned to Clark. "Come aboard and we'll get you a hot bath and some clothes." Clark nodded and made his way up the plank and onto the ship. Within minutes they had put out to sea again and were heading south west. The first mate approached Clark where he stood watching the land where he'd been a prisoner for so long disappear. "Sir?" Clark faced the man. "I am Edward. I will make sure you are taken care of until we reach the `Countess'." "Countess? I thought this was." "No, no. This is just an old cargo ship. The `Countess' is the yacht that will take you back to the states." "I'm going to the United States?" "Yes. Warren has instructions to take you back there. I was hired to make sure you get there and are taken care of along the way. Now come. Your bath is being drawn." Clark almost pushed Edward along. It had been so long since he'd bathed. He was definitely not passing this up. ~^~^~^~^~^~^~ The `Countess' turned out to be a massive and very elegant vessel. Clark couldn't ever remember being somewhere so luxurious. He'd been cleaned and provided with new clothes and shoes. He also couldn't remember when food and water had ever tasted so good. He'd been given some of the most wonderful food to eat. He'd eaten so much that he'd spent two days with a stomachache. He'd recovered fairly quickly and was now enjoying the warm sun on the deck as the yacht raced across the ocean. Clark refused to go below deck until he soaked up the wonderful rays shining down on him. Being locked away so long had given him an appreciation for such mundane things. The first few days he'd been out of that horrible cell, the sun had been hidden by a thick blanket of clouds. It had rained endlessly that first night on the cargo ship. Though he'd enjoyed the rain, when the sun peaked through the clouds this morning, Clark nearly cried. He titled his head back and let his mind take him to places he hadn't been in such a long time. It was well over a week into his trip when Clark revisited his bag full of notebooks. Years of thoughts were on those pages. And all the misery he'd endured. He thought briefly of throwing them overboard, but that just seemed too painful to do. So he took his precious books back to his room and read for a while before he decided to write. ++++ `A man named Warren came and released me from that hellish dungeon. As I write this I am aboard a yacht bound for the states. I have yet to understand this all, but I refuse to look at this as a bad thing. For the first time in years I am clean, warm, and full of good food. Whoever gave the orders for this, I thank him.' Clark paused in his writing to think about his parents and Lois for the first time in days. How had he actually let them drift from his mind? `Mom, Dad. Thoughts of you have gotten me through the hell I was thrown into. I can't even imagine what my life would have been like if you hadn't found me. I owe the man I once was to you both. Please know I will always love you. But now you have to understand. Time has changed me. Being locked away in that dark, cold cell has robbed me of all feeling except that of revenge for whoever it was that put me there. Because of the lack of spirit or even the will to live as Clark Kent, your son, again, I have to build another life. I will make inquiries to check on you. And I will never cease to make sure you both are well. Forgive me this. I love you both. `Lois, my dearest Lois. I can't imagine how breathtakingly beautiful you must be now. I would bet time has only matured you into a stunning woman. `What are you doing with your life now? Are you married? Did you finally trust another with your fragile heart? I only hope he's worthy. `Do you still work for the Planet? How about Perry and Jimmy? Are they still the only friends you have? I hope not. `Oh, Lois. I wish you all the best. I will love you forever, but I must finally say good-bye. I am no longer the man you once knew. I would sooner die than to hurt you. Seeing me as I am now would surely do that. Please know you were in my thoughts every day and will be until the last day. I love you, Lois. I will always love you. I will always look out for you as well. `Today I say good-bye to Clark Kent. forever.' Clark shut his notebook and tucked it back into his bag. He stretched out on the small bed and closed his eyes. Maybe tomorrow would bring more answers along with a new life. ~^~^~^~^~^~^~ New York City in the year 2002 wasn't much different than it had been in 1993. But Clark had to pause as he took it all in. He wasn't sure exactly where it was he'd been all this time. He could clearly recall starting out in South America, but if they were docking here, that clearly meant he'd been taken somewhere other than the place he'd started from. Along the route, the air had been crisp, indicating they had no longer been near the equator. They'd also traveled a great deal of time at a South Westerly heading before turning North, a sign he'd been taken across the Atlantic before being locked away. Since he hadn't recognized the port they'd left from, he wasn't exactly sure where he'd been. Besides, Clark decided, it didn't matter now. He was out and that's all he was concerned with. Clark felt a little anxious and overwhelmed as he gazed upon the sights he thought he'd never see again. He hadn't realized that since he'd gotten out of that prison, he was slowly coming back to life. It didn't resemble, in any way, the life he'd had before, but it was still a life. He didn't have long to take in his surroundings before Edward ushered him into a waiting car. Warren took his leave, explained that his job was done and Edward would make sure the last leg of the journey was completed as ordered. A little while later, Clark boarded a small plane. When it landed, he was put into another car and driven through some of the most beautiful country he'd ever seen. Of course, he *had* seen it before. He was somewhere in the New England states of the US. He contented himself with staring out the window at the beautiful fall colors as the scenery rushed by. When a massive estate came into view, he sat up a little straighter. ~^~^~^~^~^~^~ Clark felt like a kid in a candy store as he walked through the large hallway of the mansion he'd entered. Nine years in a tiny room built of rock had certainly given him an appreciation of the finer things in life, and he had to admit that this seemed to be a very fine house. He was led to a huge library where a man was looking up at the contents of the bookcase before him. The man turned to look at Clark when he came in. "Welcome," the man offered softly. "I am Travis." "Travis," Clark answered in a flat tone. He 'd been locked away far too long to dance around formalities. He'd rather jump directly to the point. "Would you mind telling me why I'm here?" "Certainly." The man who called himself Travis waved to a chair and moved to take one himself. For a long while he could only look at Clark and smile understandingly. The sudden change in circumstances for the young man surely had to be a bit of a shock. The man's scrutiny made Clark uneasy, but he chose to occupy himself by looking around the room. Finally Travis spoke. "Warren didn't tell you much, did he?" "He didn't," Clark answered looking back at Travis. "And who was he anyway?" "Just a man hired to get you here. Look at me, young man." Clark's expression remained blank. What was he supposed to see? "And?" "I am Travis Devon," the man told Clark. "And I am very pleased to meet you." He thrust his hand out to shake Clark's. Clark grasped the man's hand wearily. "Do you mind telling me what all of this is about? Why is the fact that you are Travis Devon supposed to mean something to me?" "Just look at yourself. Well, maybe not now. With a haircut and a shave, we could pass as father and son." "What?" Travis reached for a photo that was laid faced down on the desk beside them. "Look." The man chuckled slightly. "Actually, the coincidence with our looks is somewhat of an ironic added bonus." Clark didn't respond to the vague and confusing answer, but took the photograph, eyes widening in surprise. The image staring back at him did look an awful lot like himself. His eyes lifted to the man before him. "This is." "I know, though that was taken a long time ago. So, now I guess you want to know why? Why did I bring you here? Why did it take me so long?" "Those are all very good questions," Clark said ruefully as he dropped the photo back onto the desk. "Let's start this way. The place where you were held is called Purgatory." Clark snorted his indignation. "Yeah, well, it was named perfectly." "I know. That place and several like it have been in place all over the world for years. It is where the governments of the world send those who have embarrassed them. or those who have simply ticked them off. Hundreds of missing persons have been lost inside those horrible walls." "I can see why." Devon smiled and waved a hand in the direction of the door. Immediately a servant was there with a tray of food and drinks. "Please. Eat." Devon lifted a glass to his lips and sipped the liquid as he watched Clark. After a few moments, Clark put his empty glass down and looked back over at his benefactor. "So what does that have to do with me?" Clark found himself wondering if he'd been wrong about who'd sent him to Purgatory. Could he have annoyed the government... and which government? In fact, Clark was beginning to get the uneasy suspicion that perhaps the US government had somehow discovered his secret and wanted to get rid of an over-powerful being, just on the off chance that one day he might pose a threat. The older man's next statement, however quickly relieved his fears. "But... you didn't do anything to any government, did you?" Devon let that settle with the young man a moment before he continued. " Instead, you upset a very powerful, man, but I'll get to who later." Devon cupped his glass in his hands in front of him. "Meanwhile, I want you to claim my fortune and expose this person as one of the largest evils in this world." "Excuse me?" "We look so much alike, no one would ever doubt you if you claimed to be my illegitimate son. That would make you heir to my fortune and with the kind of money I have, you could cause a lot of trouble for the monster that has caused us both a great deal of misery." Clark paused mid-bite on a piece of fruit. He looked at Devon as if he had just grown another head. This man couldn't possibly mean who he thought he meant. Devon couldn't help but smile. This young man across from him knew exactly who he was referring to. He carefully set his glass down and folded his hands across his lap. "I see you know exactly of whom I speak." "Yeah, well, it wasn't very hard to figure out," Clark said sarcastically. "And with all that free time." He shrugged slightly before continuing with his piece of fruit. Travis smiled at the younger man. "He's also made my life hell over the last few years and it's become so damned annoying." "With your money," Clark was quick to remind him, "It seems you could have handled him a long time ago." Devon laughed aloud. Kent was a wonderful choice. "I could have," the man agreed. "However, wouldn't you agree that revenge is much sweeter when it's just a tad ironic?" Clark finished chewing the food in his mouth before he spoke again. "What makes you so sure I seek revenge?" "Come now, Mr. Kent. Surely you want Luthor to pay for sending you to that damn place?" Clark's eyes lowered to gaze at the plate before him. He couldn't deny that making Luthor pay for sending him to Purgatory was the main thing on his mind these days. And it would be hilariously ironic to do so as someone else. Devon saw the expression of concentration on Clark's face. He knew this man had thought often of revenge. But to think it out and carry through with it were two totally different things. "As I've said, Luthor has been giving me a significant amount of trouble for a matter of three years or so. Actually, it's been much longer than that..." The older man seemed lost in unpleasant memories for a few moments, though he quickly brought himself under control. "But I digress... I decided late last year to have him researched in more detail than what is usually customary." He chuckled softly. "Most of the time, bad guys keep no more dirt than is necessary for their selfish purposes. I had unearthed a fair amount of that, but felt there was much, much more to my enemy than your standard profile. So. a little more digging produced you." "Excuse my bluntness, but how is it you were able to find me when others haven't?" Clark felt he had to ask that question. After all, Lois was the best investigative reporter in the world. Why hadn't she found him? "Mr. Kent, I travel in entirely different circles than your brilliant partner." Clark almost spat his drink across the room. "Relax. I'd hardly know about you without knowing about Lois Lane." The young man wanted to ask more about that particular topic of conversation. At the same time, he remembered his promise to himself not to contact her. He would eventually check up on her. It was just too soon. He had to organize his raging emotions and his torturous thoughts. "As I said, after a little digging. and some persuasion. I discovered what the evil Mr. Luthor did to you." He stopped to watch Clark. When the man showed no expression at all, he continued. "It wasn't easy to find you. You were supposed to be dead." "What?" "Luthor had given the order to have you executed. He called in quite few debts to get rid of you. One of those debts was with a certain power head in the underworld. He runs most of the smaller countries in the southeastern part of South America. He's known to the world as Diego." Clark searched his frazzled mind for a moment before that name registered. Diego was supposedly the drug lord of the southern continent. When he and Lois had been working on the Thomas case, Perry's informant had led them to believe that a trail could be followed directly back to Diego's organization and hopefully to the kingpin himself. Of course, that tip had been a plant, orchestrated by Luthor. Devon continued when he noticed Clark knew of whom he spoke. "Diego has never been one to take orders. He felt Luthor was giving them and decided it wouldn't hurt to keep a little insurance in case the need ever arose to use it." "You mean he kept me alive to use against Luthor if the man ever got on his bad side?" Clark asked ruefully. Not only had he been one man's play-thing, he'd been two, possibly three. "Yes," Devon answered soundly. "And it helped that the man giving the orders would never know." "That it did," Travis answered with a smile. "Word was passed along that you were taken care of and that was that. Luthor never bothered to check or decided Diego could be trusted because they both were members of the same brotherhood." Clark thought about that for a moment. He had to admit he could clearly see the irony Devon had spoken of. "Now you understand the irony." Devon smiled and took another sip of his drink. "I may understand it from my point of view, but what will you get out of it?" "The satisfaction of knowing that bastard slipped and someone discovered it." Sometime during his statement, his expression had grown grim. "Mr. Kent, you don't know the half of what I have endured at the hands of Lex Luthor." "I think I have a good idea," Clark said sarcastically. Once again, Devon's expression cleared. "I guess you do. That's why I chose you to help me carry out my plans." "And those are?" "Bring Luthor to his knees. expose his evil empire. then watch his face when he realizes his ugly past has reared its head to bite him on the ass." Devon let his head fall back and laughed fully. As he watched the man, Clark couldn't help but picture the scene that had been described. Luthor would swallow his own tongue if he were to see the face of the man he had been so sure was sent away to be killed brutally. Devon collected himself and addressed Clark again. "Tell me, Mr. Kent, why do you think Luthor sent you to that hell hole?" That hit home with unforgiving force. He knew exactly why he'd been sent away, but that was a subject he was not about to discuss with this man. Never mind he owed his freedom to him. Devon understood immediately. He knew what Luthor's motives had been. That, too, had been one heck of an ironic situation that still brought a smile to his face when he thought of it. However, he completely understood Clark's reluctance. He recognized it as an imaginary boundary that would not be breached and respected that. "Understood, Mr. Kent. It will not be mentioned again. Now. will you help me?" Clark didn't answer. Instead he stood and walked around the room. They were in a library, every wall was covered with shelves and filled with one of the most eclectic and rare collections of literature Clark had ever seen. He studied the titles all the while his mind ran the invitation around in his head. If he took this man up on this, wouldn't that put him in the same class with Luthor? Quickly he decided that didn't matter because he no longer belonged to a class anymore. Luthor had seen to that. He'd seen to the end of his life as he knew it. Travis Devon offered him that new life he'd said he would create. Purgatory had turned him into someone he neither knew or respected. Did it matter what kind of life he created and lived out now? Hardly. Any kind of life was better than the one he'd lived inside those stone walls. That had been existence. And did it matter that he would live for the sole purpose of torturing another man? Why not? That man had done nothing less to him. He faced Devon as a new light sparked in his dark eyes. "I love irony." Devon smiled and rose to extend his hand to the younger man. "Welcome home. son." ~^~^~^~^~^~^~ The man's ambivalent brown-eyed gaze looked down on the city he hadn't seen in ten years. Moments later the leer jet skidded on the runway and came to a halt. When the door opened, he stood and shook himself from his thoughts, then made his way out. The stretch limousine left little to doubt the man's importance. His expensive shoes clicked on the pavement as he strode quickly toward the car. His waist length jacket flapped in the breeze, covering his custom tailored suit. He was the picture of wealth, right down to his perfectly manicured nails. He smoothly slid into the car through the open door and settled as the driver climbed into the driver's seat. "We will arrive at the hotel in plenty of time for you to unwind before the event tonight, Mr. Devon," the driver told the man as he looked at him through the rearview mirror. "Good," was the clipped reply before the man turned to look out his window as the city began to pass by. It had been so long since he was last here. Metropolis certainly had changed. It was even larger, busier than it was ten years ago. He didn't think such a thing was possible. There had been modern architectural advances in his absence, he noticed as they drove along. Obviously life had gone on for the city he once regarded as his home, while his had been cruelly brought to a halt. They pulled to a stop in front of the 'Majestic', a new, elaborate hotel in downtown Metropolis. The large expanse of steel and concrete boasted a nearly entirely glass front. Huge stone statues marked the gold trimmed doors leading into what was surely a magnificent lobby. The driver held the door as Mr. Devon exited the car and made his way inside. His assistant, Edward, quickly came to his side from a traveling position in the passenger's seat of the limo. "The penthouse has been reserved, sir," Edward explained as he led the way into the hotel. "Good," the man replied as he followed Edward up the desk and stood silently. "This is Conner Devon," Edward announced to the man behind the counter. The man behind the desk looked up and immediately pasted on a smile on his face. Conner Devon was the son of the wealthiest man in the world and the man's recent introduction to society had started a media blitz. Since word of the younger Devon's arrival had spread through the hotel, the staff had been filled with curiosity about their mysterious guest. Travis Devon had been rumored years ago to be a playboy, unable to put down roots of any kind. Of course, that was speculation. The world was well aware the infamous billionaire had been in seclusion since his late twenties, hiding away from society when the pressures of living a public life had become too much for him to handle. With the announcement that the billionaire had discovered the existence of a son, the claims of the wild youth lived by the senior Devon were confirmed, and the world couldn't wait to meet the young man. There had been no pictures, no video media coverage of the heir at all. When it was announced the wealthy son would soon be traveling to Metropolis, every person in the city hoped they would be the first one to get a peek at the man that was causing such a buzz. "Mr. Devon, welcome to the 'Majestic'. I am David, head concierge." Conner simply nodded as Edward stepped up to talk to the manager. "I am assured you have his suite ready?" "Yes, of course. The penthouse is polished and waiting." "Very good. The car is out front. Have his things sent up immediately." "Of course, of course," the manager hurried to assure Edward. He summoned a bellhop and instructed him to take Mr. Devon's luggage up to the penthouse. "I will have someone take you up." "That won't be necessary," Edward told him as he reached for the security card. "If we are in need of assistance, we will call." "Yes sir. Please call me personally." "We'll do that." Edward turned and held up his hand for Conner to go ahead of him and quickly fell in step beside his boss as they made their way to the elevators. Behind them the slow hum of excited voices filled the air. "It will be common knowledge that you're here before the end of the hour," Edward told Conner. "I know," he answered with a frustrated glare at the many eyes staring at him as he entered the car. When the doors slid shut, he let out a long breath. ~^~^~^~^~^~^~ The dark surrounded him. The unbearable cold numbed his body, while silence echoed around in his mind. No! Why me? Why put me in this horrible place? What did I do to deserve this? Suddenly he jerked awake and sat straight up on the large bed. His eyes darted around the room, registering the fact that he was in the penthouse suite of the Majestic hotel. It had been just a dream. The sun was beginning to set in the beautiful spring skyline over the city. Earlier he'd come into the bedroom to lie down before he had to make an entrance at the 'Man of the Year' event tonight. It only took a moment before sleep had claimed him, as it usually did when he slowed down. He pushed himself off the bed and trudged into the bathroom. A weary hand was forced through his unruly hair as he came to stand in front of the mirror. He looked at the man before him with a mixture of loathing and awe. He didn't even recognize himself any longer. As he leaned closer to the looking glass, his fingers stroked his temples and the silvered hair that now graced them. He'd believed at first that the silvery-gray streaks would revert to their original dark shade with the return of his powers, but that hadn't happened. Who knew, he thought with a shrug. Perhaps silver hair was part of his genetic makeup. It certainly helped make up his disguise. His normally short hair had been replaced by nearly shoulder length, perfectly groomed locks. An expertly trimmed goatee adorned his once clean-shaven chin. Long sideburns added to the effect the small beard was trying to create. Although the hair did wonders to change his looks, it was the deep lines around his dark eyes that made the most difference in his appearance. Those lines spoke of years of pain suffered. Conner took a deep breath and shook his head at the man he'd created. Even the name was a lie. Conner Devon had come into existence when Travis had related the story of his life to Clark Kent in the library of the mansion in New England nearly six months ago. Clark could still remember that first conversation with his benefactor. A vivid picture had been painted for the one-time reporter as Travis told of the many devious and underhanded things he'd been subjected to at the hands of Lex Luthor. The older man had explained why he'd decided to select Clark to become his 'son' and help him in his plans of revenge, and Clark had agreed to take on this new persona. Being locked away in a filthy hole in the wall for nine years had hardened a once compassionate man and the last thing Clark wanted to do was become a hero to the people, because toppling Luthor would make him one. Even if no one ever knew that. After only a moment's consideration, Clark had decided that using Devon's money to avenge himself wasn't so bad after all and it suited his purposes of starting a new life. He might as well be Conner Devon, as any one else. Together they'd tailored Travis' plans of making Clark his long lost son and putting the younger man in position to cause Luthor and his organization irreparable damage. Other than what Clark had gleaned about business dealings from his time reporting on them, Clark knew very little about the corporate world, but he was a quick study. Luthor's holdings were bought out, shut down, taken over, and sabotaged. Piece by piece, Lex Luthor's empire had started to crumble. When word had reached Travis and Clark that Luthor was starting to scramble to save his beloved LexCorp, they'd decided the first phase of their plan was running successfully and the announcement had been made that Travis Devon's son had been discovered. Word had traveled back that Luthor was interested in a meeting with Devon, an obvious attempt to form some kind of alliance in an attempt to salvage whatever was happening to him. Luthor was grasping at straws, trying to utilize whatever means necessary to find out what was happening to him and his empire. Apparently he believed an alliance with the wealthiest man on the planet couldn't hurt. Devon had answered that he would be in Metropolis for his first appearance in over forty years at the end of March to introduce his son to the world and he would speak with Luthor then. Only Travis Devon's time had run out. Fate had played its cruel hand and he was found dead in his bed in late February. The once powerful man had suffered a massive heart attack. In private correspondence left for Clark, Travis told him to make quick work of destroying Luthor and move on with his life. The money was left to him to do with as he wanted, even after Luthor and his empire fell to the ground. There was provisions made to turn the money over to Clark Kent if said man ever decided he wanted to resurrect the long dead persona. To Clark, that whole situation had turned out to be the most ironic of all. But Clark Kent was dead. He'd discovered that almost immediately. Travis' sources told him that everyone was led to believe that Kent had been executed almost immediately after his imprisonment began. Conner closed his eyes and thought of the benefactor that had gotten him to this place. Travis Devon had been the richest man in the world, holding that distinction through hard work, unlike Luthor. He'd made ruthless business decisions, but had refrained from the villainy so often associated with wealth. Travis had buckled under all the pressure of being at the top of the financial food chain and had gone into seclusion to live a more peaceful existence, at least in his mind. However, the best intentions go awry and when pushed to their limits, even the most gentle men become volatile. Almost without realizing, Clark had grown fond of the older man, who'd plucked him from his living tomb. He'd thought he was done with emotions, yet he had to admit that Travis had somehow got under his skin. He'd enjoyed the long talks they'd had together in the library by the fire during the long winter and he missed him. Now he had to go on alone. Conner took a deep breath and splashed some water on his face. It was time to get ready for this event tonight. Metropolis' 'Man of the Year' was Perry White. As he wiped his face he tried to remember his one time boss. He'd learned that the no nonsense editor had left his position at the Daily Planet in late 1998 to become Mayor. He wasn't sure why Perry would have done something that seemed so drastic, but it certainly seemed to have been a wise choice. Crime was at an all-time low and Metropolis had been voted the number one city in America to live in, for the second year in a row. And that was with Perry in office only five years. He'd recently been reelected to another term. Before the old man's death, Clark and Travis had been discussing what would be the best time to introduce Conner Devon to the world. When Clark discovered who was being honored at this year's ceremony, he'd decided this was as good a time as any. He couldn't put off going public forever if his plans were to work, and he`d decided that it was time to check on all those that had once meant something in his life. As for his revenge, he'd decided that when Luthor was finally brought to his knees, he wanted the man to know exactly who had been responsible. Even if the world only ever knew him as Conner Devon. So, tonight was the night to `come out' and start the second phase of his plan. ~^~^~^~^~^~^~ Conner looked out at the city as the car made its way through the streets toward the Metropolis Convention Center. He'd asked Edward to sit in back with him this time to fill him on some information he'd asked the assistant to gather. "Do you have anything for me?" Conner asked. "Yes." The man opened his notebook and read through his files. "Martha and Jonathan Kent no longer reside in Smallville." "What?" Conner turned to look at the man. His decision to look in on the people from his past also included the older couple. "Following the death of their son, they moved to Metropolis." Conner stared at Edward in disbelief. Jonathan Kent lived in the city? That was one place the old man had said he would never live. What had happened? "And?" Edward shrugged slightly. He wasn't sure why his master was interested in these people, but he'd gathered the information anyway. He'd been quite surprised to discover that the unhealthy rack of bones, masquerading as a person who had boarded that cargo ship months ago was really the son of the wealthiest man alive. And when the young man asked him to stay on as his assistant, he'd been extremely grateful. So, he'd indulge him in nearly any request. "They live up town, in one of the condominiums of Port Royal." "Port Royal? What is that?" "It's a building erected about three years ago by." He read through his papers for a moment. "Lois Lane." Conner had been gazing out of the window again. At the mention of that name, his head jerked around to his assistant. "Did you say Lois Lane?" "Yes. The famous reporter, novelist, and activist." "Novelist and activist?" "Yes. According to my research she has written several very successful novels and has campaigned for all sorts of worthy causes over the years." Conner rolled that information around in his head. He had deliberately left Lois' name out of any research he wanted Edward to do because he didn't want old pain brought to the surface. "She had Port Royal built for several different reasons." "I don't want to know," Conner cut him off and turned back to look out into the darkness. Until this moment he hadn't given much thought to the fact that Lois would probably be at the event tonight. When he'd made the decision to come, he'd known she'd be there. He wanted to see her. He had to know she was okay, but at the same time it wasn't something he looked forward to either. He knew as soon as he saw what kind of life she had now, he'd live through more pain. He wished only the best for her. He just didn't have to like the life she'd built without him. He could only sigh. Why was it, even after making the decision to stay away from Lois, she was nearly all he could think about? She, and his parents, had been on his mind constantly for the past few weeks. He guessed it was because of his decision to come to Metropolis and the fact that he'd known Lois would be here. For all of his arguments with himself over staying away from her, he had to force himself to keep from turning back to Edward and request everything he knew about Lois Lane. He loved her still. so much. And that was why he couldn't bring himself to cause her more pain than she'd already endured because of him. "We're here," the driver's voice cut through Conner's musings. ~^~^~^~^~^~^~ The turn out for Metropolis' 'Man of the Year' was the largest in memory, even larger than the turn out for a certain superhero many years ago. Perry White was certainly deserving of the attention. He'd worked hard to make the changes he had and his city was proof of that. Perry smiled as he made his way around the room greeting people. "This is one hell of a shin dig," Perry commented to the young man at his side. "Yes sir," the man answered. Perry clapped a hand on the man's shoulder as his soft bellow rang out. "Jimmy, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Chief? We may not be at the Planet any more, but I still like to hear that name." Jimmy grinned widely up at his surrogate father. "Okay, Chief." They shared a laugh and started to exchange a few words about the gathered crowd. "I hear Conner Devon is supposed to make an appearance," Jimmy commented after a while. "Yeah, yeah. I'm looking forward to meeting him. His father supported a lot of worthy charities in this city over the years." Just then Perry and Jimmy turned as the attention of those in the room was drawn to the entrance. A well- dressed, apparently very important man was greeting a couple of Perry's administration team. "That's him," someone came rushing over to whisper to Jimmy. "Who?" he asked. "Conner Devon." Jimmy and Perry both turned back to watch the man as he eased into the crowd. He certainly looked the part of someone extremely wealthy as his polished appearance left little to doubt his clothes had cost a small fortune. Not a hair was out of place as he moved with the grace of an athlete. What both men did notice was the lack of emotion in the man's expression. His slight smile was forced and he looked to be speaking in short, clipped sentences. "Who are you two looking at?" a female voice interrupted them. "Conner Devon," Jimmy told the woman who'd joined them. She craned her neck, only glancing at the man across the room. Dismissing the talked about billionaire, she smiled up at Perry. "I can't tell you how proud I am of you, Perry." The old man looked down into the eyes of the woman he considered his daughter. "Ah, Lois, honey. You say the nicest things." He pulled her into his chest for a warm hug. When he pushed her back, his grin faded to a frown. "Where's that boy of mine?" "Around here somewhere. He's very proud of his Grandpa Perry." "To me, honey, you and that boy, Jimmy over there, and my boys and their families are my greatest achievements." Lois blinked as her eyes filled with tears. She wrapped her arms around his neck for another hug. To her, this man was her father. He'd taken the position when her real father refused to do so. And Perry had been through so much the last few years. It was his need to see certain injustices righted that had led him to run for mayor. Lois had worked at his side and their city was changing for the better. Perry had also lost his wife to a tragic car accident right after he took office. His sons had rallied to support their father. The once wayward sons came home again. They had met and bonded with both Lois and Jimmy and all were one big family now, along with spouses and children. As much as such things had once scared Lois to death, finding her place in a loving environment, surrounded by others that loved you in return as much as you did them, was now the only place she wanted to be. The emcee announced it was time to start the ceremony and everyone quickly took their seats. ~^~^~^~^~^~^~ Conner watched as the brunette hugged Perry White. Even with ten years added to him, he'd recognize that man anywhere. He also recognized the younger man to his right. Jimmy Olsen barely looked a day older. Inwardly he smiled as he remembered the spirit behind that boyish exterior. When the woman turned and started toward a table, Conner gasped. "Lois," he whispered. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. For so long he couldn't picture that face, but seeing her again made all the memories he ever had of her rush around him. He felt his face flush and his stomach lurched. "Sir? Are you all right?" Edward asked as he saw Conner's expression. "Yes," he finally managed. "I just need to go splash some water on my face." "Certainly." Edward watched as Conner made his way through the crowd to use the facilities. Conner rounded a corner and leaned against the wall to catch his breath. He'd thought he could handle a meeting with Lois Lane. If this is how he reacted to seeing her across the room, there was no way he could actually face her. He squeezed his eyes shut and mentally searched for the misery the last decade had invoked in him. He found it and latched on with new resolve before making his way into the restroom for a quick splash of water. A pep talk later, he reentered the convention hall and made his way over to the table Edward was sitting at. The ceremony had begun and thankfully Lois Lane sat with her back to him on the other side of the room. As soon as the ceremony was over and the crowd began to drift back into a comfortable hum of conversation, Conner gritted his teeth and made his way over to Perry. He'd waited until Lois was on the other side of the room though. Tempting fate was not something he did any more. "Mr. White," he began as he reached the older man. His heart thundered in his chest as he wondered if the man would recognize him. Perry looked up at the man and slowly started to smile. "Mr. Devon. How nice to finally meet you," he told him as he extended his hand. Conner took the offered hand in a firm grasp. "And you, sir. My father spoke highly of you." "I wish I could do the same. Fact is I never met him." "I know. It was with deepest regrets he never made it to Metropolis." Conner bowed his head momentarily before lifting his eyes back to Perry. "I wanted to extend my congratulations and assure you that I intend to continue any support my father had started with your administration." "Glad to hear that. Your father supported many worthy charities here in Metropolis." Conner wanted to tell the man he didn't know the half of what the senior Devon had supported, but chose instead to say, "My assistant will be in touch to schedule a meeting so we can discuss any other needs you may have." "That would be great, Mr. Devon." "Please. Call me Conner." "Conner it is." Perry was about to turn to introduce Conner to Jimmy when he was interrupted. "Grandpa Perry, have you seen my mom?" "Ah, no. Don't think I have. Last time I saw she was headin' in the direction of the ladies room." "'Kay," the boy said and squeezed past Perry and Conner. Perry laughed softly, but failed to see the strange expression on Conner's face. "Grandkids. gotta' love 'em." "I'm sure," Conner answered dryly. "Again, congratulations. I really must be getting on. I have much to take care of." "Ah, sure. I'll be looking forward to hearing from you." "Until then." Conner bowed and turned to leave. Perry watched as he strode across the room, this time he didn't stop to converse with anyone. He waved off the assistant holding his jacket and never broke his stride to the door. "Not very social," Jimmy commented as he came to Perry's side. "He comes from a line of men that have lived in seclusion," Perry told the young man. "Let's hope the rumors that he's a recluse like his father aren't true. He could really make wonderful changes with his presence here in the city." "Yeah. Something about him kinda' got to me." Perry looked down at Jimmy in surprise. "You, too?" Jimmy nodded. "He got to me. Something about his expression. He appears to be a man who has known some pretty hard living." "Not just that, Chief. There's something in his eyes." Both men turned and looked back at the door Conner Devon had left through. Were they wrong in their assessment of this man or was there something more there? ~^~^~^~^~^~^~ Later that night, Conner once again stared at the man in his mirror for a long while. Finally, but with a heavy heart, he resolved that all he was working to accomplish was more important than whatever he'd once felt for Lois Lane. Edward had told him on the way home that she lived at Port Royal with her on again, off again boyfriend. It also seemed that the man had given her more than his company. He'd given her his son. Lois had a son. Conner had been devastated. Obviously whatever she'd once felt for him was merely an infatuation because the child was old enough to have been conceived within weeks of his imprisonment. She hadn't wasted any time putting Clark behind her before she'd moved on. And what did that mean in regards to his parents? They lived at Port Royal as well. He also learned they worked for Lois in one of her many endeavors. Did they, too, bury him in one day and move on the next? He forced those thoughts to harden his heart even further. It didn't matter what he felt for Lois Lane. It didn't matter what he felt for his parents. <> He told himself with a stern insistence. He glared at the man before him. "Clark Kent *is* dead." He squared his shoulders and strode into the other room. Kent may be dead, but Conner Devon was alive and well. And he had important business to attend to. ~^~^~^~^~^~^~ "What the hell is going on?!" Lex Luthor ranted as he stared at the figures on the paper before him. "A month ago this business was thriving." "I have inquired everywhere, sir. I can't seem to find any sabotage. Sales are simply falling, at an alarming rate." "And why is that?" "Competition. The smaller company in Simmons and a couple elsewhere are putting us out of business." Lex threw the papers across the desk in frustration. This same thing had been happening to all his smaller companies. Lately larger endeavors had started to experience trouble as well. Star Labs had taken over Lex Labs, an oil division in Texas had gone to another competitor, and now it seemed the last of his smaller companies was failing to thriving competition. What was going on? It seemed as if there was a concerted effort to destroy his business empire, but, so far, they'd been unable to find proof of any conspiracy. Yet, despite that, if this kept up, LexCorp would fall. That was something he couldn't live with. He'd already fallen from the position of third richest man in the world to tenth. He couldn't stand to fall any further. "I want to talk to Devon. We need to propose that alliance I was going to approach his father about." "I'll set it up." Lex turned and looked out over Metropolis. He might need Devon Jr's backing to save his power- base here, but then he'd find a way to be rid of him. This was his city. There was no way he would turn it