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  • The Memory Remains

    Here's my latest. It's post Requiem... enjoy!

    The Memory Remains

    Gotham City was a sight to behold at night. Dark and foreboding, it was enough to make most people want to lock themselves inside until the sun made it’s reappearance. Of course, she wasn’t most people.

    Lana had come here almost two years ago at the request of Oliver Queen. He’d given her the task of finding the Batman and inviting him to join his fledgling league of heroes. It hadn’t been easy, even with her capabilities.

    Capabilities provided by Lex’s Prometheus Suit. Strength, speed, invulnerability, and the unfortunate ability to absorb Kryptonite. That last one was the reason she’d been traveling the world doing freelance work for Oliver instead of living in Metropolis enjoying her happily ever after. If she’d learned one thing in life it was there were no happy endings, those were strictly reserved for fairy tales.

    Her first meeting with Batman was short and to the point. Lana had gotten the drop on him, something he wasn’t use to and didn’t like, so he wasn’t inclined to chitchat. She laid out her reasons for seeking him out, a group of like minded individuals had noticed what he’d been doing in Gotham and thought he’d be an asset to their team. She left him with a card bearing nothing but a phone number.

    While she waited for his curiosity to get the better of him she began to make her presence known in the city. During that time the newest masked hero garnered a lot of attention. The local press dubbed her The Huntress, a name that made her smile because it sounded so bad ass.

    With Batman’s insistence to do things his own way she didn’t get a phone call, instead he dropped in on her while she was patrolling the city streets. He materialized out of the darkness with the stealth of his namesake but she was neither startled nor surprised by his appearance. It was the testosterone charged posturing typical of his type, trying to gain an upper hand, an effort that was wasted on her.

    Keeping to the shadows he practically growled, in no uncertain terms, that he worked alone. Then he suggested, with his unique diplomacy, that she leave town. Unruffled, Lana informed him that she had decided to stick around for a while, saying that Gotham had an underlying charm that appealed to her.

    From that rocky start their relationship evolved over the next several months. At first they avoided each other, rarely crossing paths but when a series of crimes pointed to something more sinister than a run of the mill crime spree was happening they reluctantly joined forces. Working together they found that a man known as the Penguin was organizing to gain control of Gotham’s underground, and together they put an end to his plans.

    Not long after that Batman had joined Oliver’s organization, the experience with the Penguin helping him see the merit of working with others. An east coast base of operations was set up in Batman’s, or as they were surprised to learn, Bruce’s expansive facilities beneath Wayne Manor.

    The more they worked together the closer they became. Lana’s feelings for him shifted so subtly that she didn’t realize what was happening until it slapped her in the face. He wasn’t her type, not the billionaire playboy the world saw him as or the menacing hero she’d first met, but there was something undeniable in her attraction to him.

    Maybe it was the convenience of it that brought them together. Their double lives made it nearly impossible for a normal relationship. Perhaps it was the common ground of both being orphans, both adrift and alone. Whatever it was she never bothered to analyze it.

    So she adopted Gotham City as her new home. During the day she worked at Wayne Industries as a run of the mill paper pusher, at night she stalked criminals and their ilk, living up to the name of her alter ego.

    Tonight, like most nights, she and Bruce had been working separately but when Lana found herself with nothing to do she headed in the direction of where she knew he’d be.

    She found him in Gotham’s financial district, nearly abandoned this time of night, stopping what appeared to be a burglary. The six man crew looked like pros judging from the gear they carried, which included some serious firepower. Even so, she liked his odds.

    For a guy without any special powers he was utterly fearless, it never ceased to amaze her. Watching him work she was struck by how the way he moved had an almost poetic quality. The back and forth of the hand to hand combat looked like an intricately choreographed dance.

    He’d already dispatched of three of them when she joined the fray. Going for the biggest of the three she grabbed him by the back of his neck, stripping him of his weapon as she tossed him aside. Spinning around she delivered an open handed strike to the second guy’s chest, knocking him to the ground, while Bruce finished off the last of the goons.

    “I had that completely under control,” he said, sounding slightly winded while he surveyed their work.

    “Yeah, I could see that,” she answered with a hint of sarcasm, though her eyes sparkled with amusement. “So, what’s the deal with these guys?”

    “Some kind of corporate espionage,” he surmised as he pulled a satchel off of one of the men and held up it’s contents for her to see.

    “Six of them for one little hard drive?”

    “I guess they were expecting trouble.”

    “Looks like they should’ve brought a few more men.”

    Behind them one of the thugs was struggling to his feet, trying to get away unnoticed. Unfortunately for him he was doing so rather loudly.

    “Will they ever learn,” Lana sighed to herself and started toward him.

    Dizziness struck her without warning and it suddenly felt like the ground had disappeared from under her feet.

    “Are you alright,” Bruce asked, seeing her stumble but got no reply as he watched her collapse onto the ground like a marionette who‘s strings had been cut.

    The last thing she remembered was the sensation of falling without end, the blackness swallowing her up before she hit the pavement.

  • #2
    ok, please contiune. I have to know what happens next and where you're taking this whole bruce\lana thing. PPMS

    Comment


    • #3
      Thanks for commenting. In this update… more Bruce and Lana.
      ------------------------------------------

      Opening her eyes Lana had to blink a few times before her blurry vision came into focus. In the background she could hear the steady beeping of a heart monitor but while she was surrounded by medical equipment she wasn’t in a hospital.

      “Welcome back, Lana.”

      “Dr. Hamilton?” Lana was surprised to find Oliver’s private physician as he came over to check her vital signs. “What happened?”

      “You had a seizure,” he informed her, shining a pen light into her eyes, “and please, call me Emil.”

      “How long have I been out, Emil?” She asked as he examined her.

      “Half an hour, maybe a little longer,” he told her as he stuck his little light back into his pocket. He’d been rushed to Gotham from Metropolis minutes after word came from Bruce that one of the team had fallen. Thanks to a little help from the Blur he’d made it to what the others had dubbed the Batcave before Bruce arrived with an unconscious Lana. “How are you feeling?”

      “Other than a headache I feel fine,” she told him. Then, more to herself than to the doctor she said, “This doesn’t make sense, the suit is suppose to protect the wearer from any kind of frailty.”

      “That is how it was explained to me but I’m guessing there was little testing before the suit was put into operation,” the look on her face confirmed his hunch. “I’ve scheduled a MRI for the morning. Normally I’d take some blood but I suppose I’ll have to settle for a saliva sample.”

      He put on a pair of latex gloves and gathered the proper supplies. With swab in hand he asked her to open up then said, “I’d like to read any information on the project, it might help us find what we’re dealing with.”

      “I destroyed all of Groll’s research,” she told him with a slight shake of her head, realizing the gravity of her situation

      “We shouldn’t jump to any conclusions,” he said encouragingly even though he had little to go on. “It’s too early to tell what we’re facing, there are a lot of unknowns in the equation, lets run these tests and go from there.”

      “Alright,” she nodded, somewhat soothed by his calm demeanor.

      “I’m going to go get started on these,” he said holding up the saliva swabs, “and I’ll see you in a few hours for your MRI.”



      Lana could hear voices as she entered the communications room and quickly surmised she was the subject under discussion. From her vantage point she could see Bruce was in a video conference with Oliver and, much to her surprise, Clark.

      She hadn’t seen him, in person or via video, since she’d left Kansas. The in person part was easy enough to explain, they couldn’t get within ten feet of each other without causing him excruciating pain, but the idea of having even the simplest of conversations with him carried it’s own kind of heart wrenching pain.

      “Is it the suit?” Oliver asked as Clark stood quietly behind him, looking rather stoic.

      “Emil didn‘t have any solid answers on that,” Bruce said, sounding unusually frustrated. “He did express concern over her prolonged exposure to kryptonite but wanted to run some tests before committing to any theory.”

      Lana, who hadn’t taken her eyes off of Clark since spotting him on the screen, noticed something flash in his eyes. Worry with a dash of guilt thrown in, perhaps, but it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, replaced with an aloof somberness appropriate for the circumstances.

      She’d heard stories -the superhero crowd was not immune to occasional gossip- that he’d changed since she left. Then there was Bruce‘s impression of him. After having met Oliver and Clark face to face for the first time, he had called Clark self-righteous and didn’t understand why everyone looked to him to lead. Lana had done her best to defend him but the man Bruce described sounded nothing like the man she’d known and loved.

      Watching him now she could see what they’d meant. Except for that momentary crack in his emotional armor, he seemed detached, cold even, like he‘d turned off his ability to feel. That personal confirmation of what she had refused to believe cut so deeply that she involuntarily winced.

      The sound, soft as it was, drew Bruce’s attention away from his video conversation.

      “You’re awake,” he said, beginning to rise from his seat when he saw her, his voice filled with his normal confidence but his eyes were telling a different story.

      She hesitated to meet him, knowing that with a couple small steps she’d be in the camera‘s, and therefore Clark‘s, view. Maybe it was time, she thought in that split second of indecision, it had been years and they’d both moved on… hadn’t they? So she shook off her misgivings and went to Bruce.

      As his arms came around her she glanced over his shoulder and saw that Clark had looked away. Trying to forget about Clark she relinquished herself to Bruce’s strong embrace.

      “You scared me,” he said softly, obviously trying to keep their conversation between the two of them. He ran his hands down her arms while giving her a once over with his eyes, “How are you?”

      “I’m fine,” she assured him with a hint of a smile on her lips but the worry that clouded his gaze showed no signs of receding.

      Had they been alone she would have convinced him with a kiss but considering their audience she settled for giving his hand a slight squeeze, which wasn’t nearly as effective but it’d have to work.

      Turning their attention back to the video conference screen they saw Oliver and no sign of Clark. Noticing the confusion on their faces Oliver turned to look behind him, wondering what Clark was doing to garner such a reaction.

      “I guess he had an emergency,” Oliver said with a shrug but knew better. He’d been in Clark’s shoes before, when Clark had started dating Lois. There were still moments when it was awkward for him but he‘d let go, Clark, it seemed, had not. “It’s nice to see you up and about, Lana.”

      “Thanks, Ollie,” she sighed, thinking that she’d been wrong, maybe they’d never be able to face each other.

      “What did Emil have to say?”

      “Basically, he said not to assume anything yet. He’s running some tests and has me scheduled for an MRI first thing in the morning.”

      “Isn’t it the first thing in the morning right now?” Oliver quipped.

      She laughed, “Not quite, give it another two hours.”

      “You’re in good hands, Lana,” Oliver said, his smile fading as he turned more serious. “If anyone can figure it out what’s going on with you it’s Emil.”

      His endorsement should have instilled more confidence in her about her medical issues then it did. For some reason she couldn’t shake the foreboding feeling that had settled into the pit of her stomach.

      Comment


      • #4
        PPMS like now. that's all i have to say. i have to find out where this is going

        Comment


        • #5
          I know things look really bleak but it’s all leading to something…
          ------------------------------------------------------------------------

          The MRI knocked and clicked as it worked, all of which she’d been told was normal but it sounded like the thing was about to fall apart. She briefly considered pushing the panic button she had firmly gripped in her hand but realized how ridiculous she was being and refrained. Instead she tried to think about what Bruce had told her before she’d been rolled into the machine.

          Imagine somewhere tropical, he’d said. A beach. The sound of the waves coming in. A mai tai in her hand. He promised to make it a reality as soon as Emil would sign off on it. She had smiled and told him that an island getaway was exactly what she needed.

          She was glad he’d come even after she’d told him he didn’t need to. She could have faced it alone but having him there was… nice. Even though an MRI was a rather benign test, requiring you to do nothing but lay still for a while, she was incredibly anxious. Of course it wasn’t the test that had set her at odds as much as it was what the results might show.

          The endless possibilities. That’s what got her mind going in dark and twisting directions that made the already tight space inside the scanner feel like it was closing in on her, suffocating her.

          The beach, she prompted herself, pushing away all other thoughts. She imagined the sand between her toes and the warmth of the sun on her skin. Completely immersed in her fantasy she could feel the waves lapping at her legs. The sound of waves crashing on the shore surrounded her as she felt herself start to relax.

          After several serene minutes the daydream suddenly takes on a life of it’s own, the events somehow beyond her control. The swelling waves rise higher and higher on her legs, each more powerful than the last. She stands, enduring each new onslaught, until it becomes too much and she starts to stumble backwards. With a sharp intake of breath she begins to fall, expecting to submerged by the rising tide, but she doesn’t hit the water.

          A strong pair of arms comes around her, saving her from plunging into the ocean. She leans back into his chest, bracing herself against his strong frame, knowing that she’s safe. His lips brush her ear and she hears Clark’s voice assure her, I’ve got you.

          In a room adjacent to where Lana was undergoing her MRI Bruce stared at what he could see of her through a glass partition while Emil monitored the incoming information displayed on a computer screen.

          They said nothing as the minutes went by. Emil was engrossed with what he was seeing and Bruce wasn’t inclined to distract the doctor while he worked, so he settled in for the hour long wait.

          It wasn’t even twenty minutes into the test when Bruce suddenly jumped to his feet saying, “She’s seizing,” and rushed out of the room with Emil following close behind.

          Once she came to she was asked if she felt up to giving it another try and figuring she might as well get it over with she agreed. Thankfully the second time around she made it through without incident. Afterwards she and Bruce were sent to a small exam room to wait.

          After a wait that seemed far longer than it actually was Emil joined Lana and Bruce to discuss his findings. With one look at him, Lana could tell that it whatever he had to share wasn’t good.

          Bruce must have come to the same conclusion that she had because he took her hand in his, offering his support and strength with his touch. It was strange to be doing this with him. Not that she didn’t appreciate it, she was very grateful that he was there, but it was new territory for them.

          Their relationship didn’t have much in the way of emotional depth, which sounded much worse than it actually was. They cared for each other, respected each other’s work, enjoyed the other’s company, and were mutually attracted to one another. Being together made sense. They just didn’t talk about the future or share long loving looks or hold each others hand when expecting to hear bad news.

          Emil sat down across from them and asked, “What do you know about nanotechnology?”

          “It deals with creating devices on an atomic scale, it’s the technology that the Prometheus suit was developed with,” she answered calmly, waiting to see where this was going.

          “Yes, I was given a quick crash course on your suit last night,” between Oliver and Clark he got a general idea of the way it worked. “From what I understand, the nanotechnology was implanted just below your skin, where it was suppose to stay.”

          “That’s right,” she confirmed, swallowing nervously and Bruce’s grip tightened around her hand.

          “It appears that these particles, over the years, have been working their way further into your body. Your seizures are the result of them reaching your brain.”

          She remained utterly still, not moving at all other than her eyes slowly closing. Both Emil and Bruce let her have her silent moment, letting her digest the news. Finally she opened her eyes and asked, “What does this mean, long term?”

          “I’m afraid it will only get worse as time goes by, eventually proving fatal.”

          “Surely there is something you can do,” Bruce demanded of Emil then turned to Lana, not waiting for an answer from the doctor, “We’ll find someone that can fix this.”

          “Though the prognosis isn’t good,” Emil interjected calmly, “I have no intentions of sitting idly by. What I need from you, Lana, is every single detail that you can remember about the procedure.”



          “So, Emil, what’s your diagnosis?” Oliver asked, via video conference, having been summoned by the doctor for an update.

          “It’s not good,” Emil leveled with him, “if things continue on their current course she may have a year left. The suit is killing her.”

          The news hit him hard and it took him a moment to respond. “How is she holding up?”

          “Very well, all things considered. Bruce insisted she stay at the manor for the time being and instructed Alfred to see to her every need.”

          “Good,” he said, satisfied that she was being taken care of. “Tell me you have a treatment for her condition.”

          “I have a theory but it’s going to take some time and money.”

          “The money isn’t a problem,” he replied, his team was family to him and there would be no expense spared or avenue left unexplored when it came to saving one of them, “do whatever it takes to make it happen.”

          “Understood,” the doctor nodded curtly and cut off their connection, having plenty of work ahead of him.

          Oliver stared at the blank screen for a moment before picking up his phone. After dialing he said, “Clark, we need to talk.”

          Comment


          • #6
            ok, i know this is going somewhere, i can't figure out where yet, so keep them coming please.

            Comment


            • #7
              Here’s the update!
              ---------------------------------------------------------

              Clark sat at his desk staring at his computer, which had gone to screensaver over ten minutes before but went unnoticed by his unseeing eyes.

              “Earth to Clark,” Lois’ voice cut through his reverie causing him to look up, his eyes slowly focusing on her. “Lunch?”

              “Lunch?” he echoed in confusion.

              “Yeah, the mid day meal…” she waited a moment and got no response so she went on in irritation, “the one we usually get together. What’s up with you today? You’ve been kind of spacey all morning.”

              “Sorry,” he sighed at her impatience with him, “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

              “Can you have a lot on your mind while you walk? I’m hungry and the longer you take the longer the wait for a table.”

              “I’m going to have to give you a rain check on lunch, Lois,” he said apologetically. He was planning on dropping by Watchtower if he didn’t hear from Oliver soon.

              “Are you working on a story without telling me,” she eyed him suspiciously.

              “No, Lois, I have personal business to take care of.”

              “Personal… You know, Clark, you don’t have to lie to me. I’m perfectly fine with you working on your own story.”

              “I’m not lying,” he argued, feeling a little perturbed that she would think he’d lie about something as trivial as a lead on a story.

              “I’ve been dating you for a while now and I know that your personal business consists of cows and whatever it is you do up in your loft… all alone…for hours at a time…”

              “I don’t appreciate what you’re implying,” he grumbled, realizing -not for the first time- that this woman really didn’t know him at all. It was his own fault, he supposed. He’d had multiple opportunities to tell her about himself over the years but he never took that leap. It wasn’t that he was afraid she wouldn’t accept him, it’d been very clear to him for quite some time that she was more passionate about the Blur than she was about him. Not that he’d been bothered by that, he was, after all, the Blur.

              His reluctance was something deeper than the easy excuses he’d used over the years, though he’d used them all when talking with Chloe and Oliver about Lois. Truth was, he simply didn’t want to tell her. He wasn’t sure what that said about him or their relationship. Oddly, he didn’t feel any guilt over not letting her in on his secret.

              “Which part, Clark,” Lois asked, leaning a little closer to him, like she was about to let him in on a secret, “that you don’t have a life or that you spend a lot of time polishing your…”

              “Lois!” He cut her off and looked around to see if anyone was listening to their conversation.

              A smirk appeared on her face, clearly enjoying his discomfort, she looked like she was about to say something more -something inappropriate and geared at furthering his embarrassment, no doubt- when his phone rang.

              Thankful for the interruption Clark reached for his phone while Lois plopped down on his desk, folding her arms, apparently intent on waiting for him to take the call.

              “This is Clark,” he answered, a scowl on his face as he watched Lois perched on the edge of his desk. He listened for a moment then said, “I’ll be right there.”

              “Who was that,” she inquired as he got up, figuring she’d just caught him in a lie.

              “Nobody,” he said while pulling on his coat. “I’ve got to go.”

              “Good luck with your lead,” she smiled smugly at him.

              “It’s not a lead,” he sighed, shaking his head at her as he passed.

              “Sure, Clark, whatever you say,” she called after him but he showed no sign of having heard her.



              While Oliver waited for Clark he considered how he was going to break the news to him. Lana was a sensitive subject, one best to avoid in Clark’s presence, unless you wanted to deal with an even moodier than usual kryptonian. He wasn’t the only one to learn that lesson the hard way.

              Waiting for Clark was short lived, as it often was when Clark had a reason to hurry, cutting Oliver’s considerations short. Not that it mattered, he could have had hours to think it over and he would have came to the same conclusion; there was no good way tell him and trying to soften it wouldn’t make it any easier.

              “You’ve heard something,” it was neither a question nor an observation, it was a demand for him to share what he knew. Which, by the looks of him, was expected to be met in a timely fashion.

              Oliver nodded, taking from Clark’s abrupt words that the man was in a poor mood. “Why don’t you take a seat,” he suggested, not intimidated.

              “I’m fine,” Clark answered, refusing his offer.

              Oliver watched him for a moment before sighing with a small shake of his head. “I just spoke with Emil,” he said, getting right to it, like Clark wanted, “Lana’s prognosis isn’t good. Unless he can find some sort of treatment, he doesn’t expect her to last more than a year.”

              As Clark’s face turned deathly pale, his carefully cultivated aloofness crumbled and Oliver saw emotions he hadn’t seen for years on his friend’s face. Clark’s head bowed, to pray or hide his pain, Oliver didn’t know and quietly let him have his moment.

              When Clark raised his head again his jaw was set and his eyes were full of cold determination. “The Kryptonite…?”

              “Emil said it was the suit, he didn’t elaborate,” Oliver answered, surmising what it was he wanted to know. “He’s already working on a theory, he’ll find a way to save her.”

              “He’s at the Batcave?” Clark asked.

              “Yes. Bruce has given him space to work in,” Oliver told him but Clark was gone by the time he finished the sentence.



              Emil was back to his research, scouring every article and study he could find, printing everything that seemed relevant and quite a bit that didn’t. Nanotechnology had many applications, from making your socks smell better to cutting edge medical treatments to, in Lana’s case, a super powered suit. Information was abundant but he believed he’d find answers as he sifted through it all.

              When Clark appeared Emil glanced in his direction but went right back to reading what was on the computer screen. Not wanting to interrupt the doctor’s thoughts Clark waited quietly and, out of curiosity, began reading over Emil’s shoulder.

              “I expected you’d pay me a visit, I just didn’t think it’s be so soon,” Emil finally commented, still staring at the computer.

              “With a life hanging in the balance where else would I be?”

              Emil swiveled in his chair to face him, not bothering to suggest that this particular life was somehow more important to him. If he hadn’t already heard rumors of Clark and Lana’s past he would have picked up on it after last night. The urgency in which he delivered him to Gotham and the details he’d known of Lana’s medical history had spoken volumes. “I take it you’ve heard the diagnosis.”

              “Yes, but it was lacking in specifics,” Clark said patiently.

              “Normally I wouldn’t discuss a patient’s case,” he started and Clark was about to argue with him so he went on, “but Lana gave me permission to share details with the members of the league.”

              “Is it the Kryptonite that’s killing her?” He asked the one question that had been haunting him since the night before.

              “No, this would have happened with or without it. The particles from the nanotechnology have been embedding themselves deeper and deeper into her body, the course was set the moment she put on the suit.”

              He would’ve thought hearing that would make him feel better but it didn’t. “Oliver said you were working on a treatment…”

              “I’m planning on removing the Prometheus suit.”

              “Is that even possible?” Clark asked, his brow wrinkled in skepticism.

              “For her sake it better be,” Emil told him. “I may be able to slow it’s progression with it still in place but nothing short of removing it will save her.”

              The weight of what the doctor was saying settled on him, heavy and unforgiving, and he felt completely helpless.

              “She’s upstairs, if you want to…”

              “No,” Clark interrupted, his voice unintentionally rough. Then, clearing his throat he added, “I wouldn’t want to disturb her.”

              “She does need her rest,” Emil said, letting Clark have his not so graceful way out with some dignity.

              “I’ve probably taken up too much of your time. Could you keep me up to date on your progress?”

              Emil agreed, “Of course.”

              Clark gave him a grateful look and a nod before disappearing. Instead of going back to Metropolis he headed north to the only place that offered the refuge he currently craved. And maybe he’d find some answers there as well.

              Comment


              • #8
                Ok, I'm hooked. I need an update and i need it yesterday

                Comment


                • #9
                  Thanks for the comment Queen! I’m glad you’re enjoying it.
                  -----------------------------------------------------------

                  She was at the beach again. This time soaking up the sun in a lounge chair with a magnificent view of the ocean spread out before her. The overall effect was so relaxing that she nearly purred in contentment.

                  “Comfortable?”

                  “MmmHmm,” she sighed in reply, turning toward his voice and found herself staring into his familiar sea green eyes.

                  Clark smiled, taking her hand in his, and they went back to leisurely watching the waves roll in. Lana relished the feeling of his fingers intertwined with hers and the absentminded way his thumb was stroking the back of her hand. If heaven was anything like this maybe dying wouldn’t be so bad.

                  “I wish I could stay here forever,” she lamented under her breath.

                  “Then stay,” he said in response to her comment.

                  “But you’re not real,” she said, staring out at the ocean, refusing to look at him while she made her claim.

                  “Does this feel real?” He asked, raising her hand to his lips.

                  The brush of his lips against her skin felt very incredibly real and she desperately wanted to believe it was but she knew better. Still holding her hand, he looked up at her, as though challenging her to tell him it didn’t.

                  “Lana…?”

                  Lana turned her head in the direction of Bruce’s voice and the beach suddenly disappeared and she was back in the lounge with the view of the expansive gardens on the grounds of Wayne Manor.

                  “Where were you?” Bruce asked as he sat down next to her.

                  “The beach,” she answered with a half hearted attempt at a smile and closed the book she’d been reading before her mind had transported her to the tropics.

                  “We’ll have to make that a reality soon,” he said putting his arm around her shoulders.

                  “I like the sound of that,” she said with genuine enthusiasm, “but I don’t know if my doctor would agree to it.”

                  For the past several weeks she’d been relegated to the house, told that she needed to take it easy. That got old after a day. It took a good bit of complaining before she was allowed to work again, though it was only doing tech support from the Batcave. It was a definite improvement but it still kept her confined to the manor. A getaway to Bruce’s private island was exactly what she needed.

                  “I’ll make the arrangements and deal with Emil. I’m sure he’ll come around to the idea, I can be rather persuasive,” he said and kissed her temple. “In the meantime, I have a surprise for you.”

                  He gestured toward the door with a slight tilt of his head and she turned to see what he was talking about.

                  “Chloe!” Lana was on her feet, excitedly greeting her friend, “I can’t believe you’re here!”

                  “I should have been here weeks ago,” Chloe said apologetically as she hugged Lana.

                  “And left Oliver to fend for himself,” Lana joked good-naturedly, “he wouldn’t have known what to do.”

                  “It’s sad how true that is,” Chloe laughed.

                  “Well, ladies, I believe this is where I’m suppose to leave and let the two of you catch up,” Bruce said, smoothly excusing himself.

                  “Thank you,” Lana told him as he left, conveying with her eyes just how much having Chloe there meant to her. He smiled in return, letting her know that he understood before stepping out of the room.

                  “How have you been?” Chloe asked as they made their way to the couch.

                  “Better, I guess. The anti-seizure medication Emil prescribed seems to be working,” she answered, settling in for what promised to be a long conversation.

                  “But…?” Chloe prompted, having heard one in the tone of her voice.

                  “But,” Lana said with a sigh, “it’s not helping with my other symptom, it may even be making it worse.”

                  “And what would the other symptom be?”

                  “Hallucinations. Emil thinks that tweaking the dosage will help, but we haven’t found the right balance yet.”

                  “Oh, Lana,” Chloe winced, “that sounds terrifying.”

                  “The hallucinations aren’t so bad, it’s realizing they aren’t real that’s hard.”

                  “What is it that you see during one of these episodes?” She asked quizzically.

                  “Well, just before Bruce came in I was at the beach… with Clark.”

                  “Oh,” Chloe said in sudden understanding. “Is he always in them?”

                  “Every time,” Lana said, feeling better to have finally shared that with someone. To Emil it didn’t matter what it was she was seeing and with Bruce she decided it would be better not to tell him that detail. “Most of the time we just talk, sometimes we’re just sitting together enjoying the view.”

                  Chloe gave her a sympathetic look, knowing first hand how tortuous it was to wake up and realize the man you loved was no longer there; dreams of Jimmy had haunted her for months after his death. Unlike her, Lana’s love was still alive. “Have you spoken to Clark, actual Clark not imaginary Clark, since all of this started?”

                  “No,” she answered, irritated that it hurt so much that he hadn‘t made any attempt to talk to her. “After my first seizure I walked in on a video conference call Bruce was having with Oliver and Clark but he left once he saw I was there.”

                  “Typical,” Chloe muttered to herself, irritated with him. Sensing Lana’s pain she tried to make an excuse for him, “Don’t take it personally, he’s like that to everyone.”

                  “What’s the deal with him,” Lana asked, figuring she’d regret the question but a part of her had to know. “With the short glimpse I got of him I could see how much he’s changed.”

                  Chloe hesitated to answer, the last thing Lana needed was added stress, but she decided that Lana deserved the truth. “After you left Clark didn’t really deal with the way things ended between the two of you, instead he threw himself into stopping Doomsday. You know how that ended,” she said, shaking her head, trying not to let the memories replay in her mind. It still hurt when she allowed herself to think about it. “We all made mistakes dealing with that, in hindsight mine win the award for biggest lapse in judgment… what I wouldn’t give to be able to go back and change everything.”

                  Lana laid her hand on Chloe’s arm in a comforting gesture.

                  “Anyway,” Chloe went on, blowing out a cleansing breath, “Clark disappeared after that epic fail. He blamed himself, like always. When he resurfaced months later he was running around dressed in black, acting like a completely different person.”

                  “He looked so cold,” Lana said with a shiver, her voice full of anguish, “… so not Clark.”

                  “He’s not and hasn’t been for a long time,” Chloe confirmed her sad assessment. “It’s like he’s switched off his feelings. He justifies it by telling himself that taking emotions out of the equation somehow makes his decisions more valid. In truth, it’s just his way of not having to feel anything at all.”

                  “That can’t be true, he has Lois,” Lana argued, not wanting to believe that he was completely void of feelings.

                  Chloe knew she was heading into gossip territory but Clark’s relationship with Lois was the most telling piece of evidence she had. “He’s with Lois because it’s easy.”

                  “Are we talking about the same Lois? Your cousin? There’s no way it’s easy,” Lana looked incredulous at Chloe’s claim. Lois was too brash and outspoken to be easy.

                  “Emotionally easy,” she clarified.

                  “How so,” Lana asked, still confused by how that could be possible.

                  “Lois treats Clark like an afterthought. Her work, her relationship with the Blur,” Chloe said with an eye roll, more for Clark for not telling her than for Lois and her obsession, though both were deserving of contempt, “those things come first. So, he sees that and believes that he can’t hurt her, not the way he hurt you, anyway. In turn, he won’t get hurt because he already knows where he ranks with her and he can keep from getting too invested without feeling guilty.”

                  “Why would he do that if he wants to sever all of his emotional ties, it doesn’t make any sense.”

                  “He does it because he isn’t as far gone as he’d like everyone to believe. He still needs that connection to someone, so he seeks it out in the safest way possible.”

                  “Oh Clark,” Lana closed her and sighed in anguish. As much as it had stung to hear that he’d moved on it was so much worse to hear that he wasn’t allowing himself to fully live or love. Believing he was happy had somehow made it easier.

                  Comment


                  • #10
                    Finally some clana interaction, even if it is just imaginary. Also, i'm glad someone finally adressing how much clark has changed and how totally unbeliavable and un-connected he and Lois really are. Keep them coming, LetMeGo.

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                    • #11
                      Thanks! Enjoy the update!
                      -------------------------------------------------------------

                      Emil stood in front of an expansive whiteboard -low-tech but effective- deep in thought softly tapping his chin with a marker as he studied his own writing. He leaned forward and erased a figure with his finger and replaced it with a confident stroke of marker, then shifted his weight back on his heels and continued his contemplation.

                      “If he’s all super powered how do you keep him in there?”

                      “Reinforced glass,” Emil answered distractedly.

                      “Like they have at the zoo?”

                      “Something like that,” he sighed, realizing that he wasn’t going to get much done with Bart hanging around.

                      With Bruce and Lana off on their tropical vacation Bart had been sent to keep an eye on things in Gotham. In his free time he was either raiding the Wayne kitchen while jabbering at Alfred or down in the cave asking Emil an endless stream of questions.

                      “So, what’s next for Mighty Mouse?” Bart asked, using the name he’d bestowed on Emil’s rodent test subject as he tapped on the glass.

                      “Next we attempt to remove the suit,” he said, turning away from his work, deciding that he could use a break anyway.

                      “After all that effort to put it on him,” Bart muttered to himself.

                      With Lana’s recollections, Clark’s access to the Fortress’ supercomputer, and his own in depth research Emil had slowly begun to piece together Groll’s project, filling in the blanks the best he could. Very aware of the limited amount of time Emil dove right into implementing his research. Weeks of trial and error had finally produced a working model of the suit, though not an exact replica of Lana’s it was an adequate copy for his immediate purposes.

                      “The point of putting it on him was to take it off,” Clark replied authoritatively, having arrived just in time to hear Bart’s comment, saving Emil from having to answer.

                      “Hey, Clark,” Bart said, looking up from the mouse, not at all surprised to see him there. Since Bruce and Lana left Clark had been a frequent visitor to the Bat Cave, often getting into heated discussions with Emil over all things treatment related.

                      “Bart,” Clark acknowledged him with a nod, “I take it all is well in Gotham?:

                      “Nothing I can’t handle,” he answered with his usual confidence.

                      “And you Emil,” Clark turned to the doctor, “making any progress?”

                      “Nothing major since we last talked but I think I may be on to something,” he told him, then gave him a look that clearly suggested he keep Bart occupied and out of his hair.

                      Clark picked up on the message, “So, Bart, how’d you like to go get a drink?”

                      Hours later, as the two of them exited the bar that was more of a pickup joint than a drinking establishment, Bart was riding a wave of adrenaline having successfully scored several numbers. Clark wasn’t sure how he’d managed it, Bart was full of it and anyone with eyes could see that.

                      “I don’t get why you’ve tied yourself to one woman when there are so many fine specimens to sample,” Bart said as he thought about which lucky lady he was going to call first.

                      “I wouldn’t expect you to understand the satisfaction of having a deep and meaningful relationship,” Clark said with a patient shake of his head. “Give me the choice between a string of empty one night stands and a lifetime with the one woman I love and care about and I’d choose the one woman every time.”

                      “You can’t be talking about Lois,” Bart was skeptical, having had seen the way Lois treated him, but then again, maybe Clark liked being told what to do.

                      “Yes, I am talking about Lois,” his voice was full of warning as he glared at Bart.

                      Never one to take a hint Bart kept going. “I might buy all of that one woman junk if you weren’t still in love with Lana.”

                      “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

                      “Everyone knows, Clark, you don’t have to deny it.” Clark looked like he might rip his head off but Bart wasn’t worried, he knew he could out run him. “Living with all of those repressed feelings can‘t be good for you.”

                      After a moment of serious consideration Clark had to admit to himself that he wouldn’t get close enough to Bart to inflict any damage. Irritated, he grumbled, “It doesn’t matter what I feel for Lana.”

                      “Really? It seems to me if you guys actually get that suit off of her it’ll change everything and if not you may want to say goodbye before it’s too late.”



                      Lana reclined by the pool a book in hand but forgotten as her mind wandered. The past few weeks in paradise had been exactly what she’d hoped they’d be, a distraction. However, no matter how amazing the distraction might be the truth was always lurking in the background. It would hit her unexpectedly and always led to her thinking about her life.

                      This wasn’t the life she’d envisioned for herself. When she was little she’d wanted to grow up to be a veterinarian, then she wanted to be a teacher, then a fashion designer. By the time she got to high school she wasn’t sure what she wanted to do but she knew she wanted to make a difference. She never would have guessed she’d be doing that as a super powered vigilante partnered with a guy that dresses up to resemble a bat. That’s what happens when you don’t finish college, she thought with a smirk.

                      College, she thought with a sigh. That was probably her biggest regret, well next to that other C word, which she was refusing to think about since her little chat with Chloe, she reminded herself and shook it off. When it came to school she’d never really picked a major, her head too full of spaceships and aliens that first year. Then she got all caught up in Lex… yeah, she had a huge list of regrets, things she’d done differently if given the chance.

                      She spotted Bruce making his way toward her, a couple of drinks in his hands. She smiled at him as he approached, not letting her reminiscing sour her mood.

                      “How are you feeling,” he asked, smiling back at her as he handed her a glass of something fruity and cold.

                      “Good,” she replied, still smiling, “I’ve just been out here reflecting on life. Facing your impending death will do that to you.”

                      “You‘re not going to die,” he said taking the chair next to hers.

                      “Even if I live my entire life will change,” she sighed, not nearly as confident as he was about her survival. “Everything I’ve been working for these past few years will be over.”

                      “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but you don’t have to be super powered to do what we do,” he pointed out dryly.

                      “I’ve had some hand to hand combat training but not like you’ve had,” she said, feeling rather pessimistic. “On top of that it’s been a long time since I’ve had to rely on that training.”

                      He shrugged, “So we train until you’re up to speed.”

                      “You’d train with me?” She asked with an arched eyebrow.

                      “When we first met I never thought I’d say this but I like knowing you have my back.”

                      She smiled, taking his words for the huge compliment they were, “I never thought you’d say that either.”

                      “You belong in Gotham,” he told her with complete seriousness, not joining in on her light mood, “it needs you.”

                      Seeing past his altruistic statement she knew he was saying something that his emotionally closed off subconscious wouldn‘t let him express. She had to wonder if all men were like this or just the ones she dated. She sighed to herself and decided to get to the point. “This thing we’ve got going… it’s taken a turn lately.”

                      He didn‘t say anything for a moment, thinking about what he wanted to say. “I guess I had to face losing you to know how important you are to me.”

                      “Bruce…” he voice went soft, not expecting him to say that.

                      “You don’t feel the same, do you?”

                      “I do have feelings for you,” she protested even though she wasn’t sure exactly what those feelings were.

                      “It’s Clark, isn’t it?” He asked matter-of-factly, none of the irritation he felt making it to his voice. He didn‘t understand the guy‘s hold on her, the jerk didn‘t deserve her devotion. “Once you’re free of the suit you’ll go back to Metropolis, to him.”

                      “I haven‘t even thought about that. I doubt going back there would change anything, so much has happened since I left,” she said shaking her head, struggling to keep her emotions under control, “I’ve changed, he’s changed.”

                      “Then don’t look back, look forward. To what we have. What we could become.”

                      She met his intense gaze, wondering how it was possible to leave the past behind you when it haunted your every thought.

                      Comment


                      • #12
                        Ok, I like how conflicted Clark and Lana are feeling right now. But if they don't realize what they have and Clark doesn't shake Lois like a bad cold, it may be too late. Anyway. PPMS

                        Comment


                        • #13
                          Here's the update...
                          ------------------------------------------------------------

                          It was late, exactly how late she didn’t know. Her best guess left her with an hour or two before dawn and she’d yet to fall asleep. It was time to throw in the towel and concede that she wasn’t going to get any sleep this night. There was too much on her mind.

                          She slipped out of bed and quietly made her way through the darkened rooms of Bruce’s beach house to the terrace doors. She eased the door open and stepped outside, into the night.

                          The moonlight produced enough illumination for her to traverse the path to the beach with ease while giving everything around her an eerie dreamlike quality. The ocean lay in front of her, it’s normally clear blue waters appeared dark and troubled in the pale light, the perfect reflection of the way she felt.

                          Finding a suitable spot she sat down in the sand and pulled her knees up under her chin, wrapping her arms around her legs, ready to wait for the sunrise. She sighed and felt the tension of her sleepless night start to melt away, the ocean breeze doing wonders to clear her head. Her eyes gradually grew heavy, she was teetering on the edge of drifting to sleep, until she heard his voice call her name.

                          “Clark,” she murmured sleepily, “why are you stalking me?”

                          She knew he was a figment of her delusional mind and she knew why it was him she always saw. He made her feel safe. That didn’t make it any easier. A part of her looked forward to these moments with him but a bigger part, her more sensible part, wished he’d stop appearing to her.

                          “Because you need me,” he answered, wrapping his arms around her, “and as long as you need me I’ll be here.”

                          “Who said I needed you?” she asked as she felt herself slip away.



                          Bruce had heard Lana get out of bed and leave the house, in spite of her attempts not to wake him. He’d let her go without a word, he understood the need to brood alone, plus he didn’t want to hover. He’d been doing plenty of that as it was. He couldn’t help himself.

                          He lay in bed, listening to the night, ready to spring into action if he heard even the slightest indication that Lana was in any kind of distress, though it was unlikely he’d hear anything over the ocean’s soft roar. That fact didn’t set well with him. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself and she hadn’t had a seizure since starting medication to keep them under control, however as the minutes passed by he felt a growing unease.

                          He rolled out of bed, his need to check on her outweighing his desire to give her space. Not wanting to disturb her he stealthily approached the beach, intending to return to the house just as quietly once he saw she was okay. When he spotted her slumped over in the sand he bit back his panic and rushed to her hoping that she’d fallen asleep.

                          Bruce dropped to his knees beside her and gently caressed her face, her name leaving his lips, but she didn’t respond to his pleading voice.



                          The past twenty-four hours had felt like a week.

                          When Bruce found Lana unresponsive on the beach he reacted quickly, calling the pilot of his private jet first, instructing him to have the plane ready to go as soon as possible, then calling Emil. Having experienced Lana’s bouts with seizures before, Bruce knew that she could be out for a while but that didn‘t help him feel any less anxious. His conversation with Emil reassured him to some extent, the doctor saying it wasn’t uncommon for the drug she was taking to lose it’s effectiveness after prolonged exposure. He assured him that a new dosage or a different drug could be found to treat her symptoms. Nonetheless, they both agreed that it’d be best for her to return to Gotham and her doctor’s care.

                          On the lengthy flight home Lana had finally woken up about an hour before they landed, making it her longest blackout yet. During Emil’s subsequent examination of her she’d had yet another seizure, causing Emil to arrange for an immediate MRI. The results had prompted a phone call that had him charging full speed to Gotham.

                          Even now, as he watched her sleep -a deep sleep from a long stressful day, not the unconsciousness that followed her seizures- Emil’s words echoed in Clark’s ears. It’s progressing much faster than I anticipated, our time is running out.

                          Time was running out. Those words killed him.

                          So he’d rushed here to assist Emil with his tests on the mouse. Tests they had been weeks away from being ready for. He’d taken the results back to the Fortress for further analysis and had only returned a few minutes ago. After a short discussion with Emil, which ended with a rather large disagreement, Clark had found his way to her makeshift hospital room.

                          She appeared to be resting peacefully, though she looked a bit pale and like she’d lost some weight. He thought about what Bart had said to him about saying goodbye, he couldn’t do it. Wouldn’t do it. There had to be a way to save her. He’d find a way, he told himself, his jaw clenching with determination.

                          Oh, how he ached to touch her, hold her, feel her soft skin beneath his fingertips. Being so close to her was the worst kind of torture. He could feel the effects of the Kryptonite from where he stood, a dull throbbing radiating throughout his body, sweat beading on his forehead, but the pain was nothing compared to the heartbreaking knowledge that he couldn’t take another step toward her without falling to his knees.

                          Not that it mattered, he reminded himself grimly. Even if he could get close enough to touch her she‘d moved on, his embrace wouldn‘t be welcome. He honestly wanted her to be happy and if the bat wanna be did that for her then he could accept it, but he really couldn’t stand Bruce Wayne. What she saw in that arrogant rich boy he’d never understand.

                          As though his thoughts had somehow summoned him, Bruce walked into the lowly lit room. He didn’t even glance at Clark, standing quietly in the darkest corner of the room, but Clark didn’t doubt Bruce knew he was there. He watched silently as Bruce softly caressed Lana’s arm. He stood there for a moment, his hand resting on top of hers, and Clark felt a painful twisting in his chest.

                          He’d never admit it to anyone, and only to himself on rare occasions, but his loathing of Bruce went beyond their obvious personality clash. Bruce was living the life that was suppose to be his.

                          “It’s kind of late for visitors,” Bruce finally said to him, not taking his eyes off of Lana, his voice barely above a whisper so he didn’t disturb her.

                          “I was thinking the same thing,” Clark threw back sharply, in an equally quiet voice, causing Bruce to turn and glare at him, letting him know which one of them was the visitor and which belonged there. He met his stare with his own unwavering scowl, “I need to talk to you.”

                          Lana stirred in her sleep, having heard Clark’s voice. Bruce turned back to her, hoping they hadn’t wakened her. Satisfied that she was still asleep he looked at Clark and motioned that they go out of the room to speak. Grudgingly, Clark made the first move for the door, figuring that Bruce wasn’t about to be the first to budge.

                          Once outside of the room Bruce quietly shut the door, then turned to face Clark. They stared at each other for a moment, both of their hackles raised, like they were on the verge of attacking one another.

                          “So, Clark, what is it?” Bruce finally asked, sounding overly patient.

                          Clark had an urge to remove the condescending look off of his face but fought it off since what he had to say was important. “Tomorrow Emil is going to tell Lana that she needs to undergo an experimental procedure as soon as possible. You need to convince her not to.”

                          “If her doctor deems it necessary why would I tell her not to do it?”

                          “It’s too dangerous.”

                          “Are you a doctor now?” Bruce asked sarcastically.

                          Clark bit back his irritation, “The procedure is weeks away from being ready, probably even further out than that. Tonight was his first attempt at it on a test subject. It didn’t turn out well.”

                          “The suit didn’t come off?” Bruce’s eyes narrowed, not liking the ominous sound of that.

                          “Oh, it came off, alright, but the mouse is dead. He’s making adjustments now, he thinks he’s got it all worked out but he’s playing with things he doesn’t fully understand.”

                          “And you do?” Bruce questioned, disturbed by the news but encouraged at the same time. Emil had removed the suit!

                          “I never claimed to,” Clark said, wishing he’d just do what he’d asked. “Emil is close, really close, but he needs more time. There are factors he can‘t recreate, like the Kryptonite, but he’s set himself on a unrealistic timetable.”

                          “So we wait around until you’re satisfied, watching her slowly die in the meantime?”

                          “No one wants that suit off of her more than I do,” Clark growled, “but I want her to live through the process!”

                          That hit home for Bruce. Already uneasy about Lana’s feelings for Clark he didn’t particularly care for Clark’s heated declaration. “I can assure you that she’ll carefully consider all of her options.”

                          Clark gave him a furious stare, wondering why he was being so difficult, “Don’t you understand? She could die!”

                          “Not on my watch,” Bruce said and started to walk away, hoping to ask Emil some serious questions.

                          As he passed by Clark grumbled at him, “Tell her to wait.”

                          Bruce bristled at his insistence, like always Clark was telling everyone what to do, expecting him to fall in line and obey. “It’ll be her decision and I’ll support whatever she chooses to do.”

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                          • #14
                            Very intriguing update. This love triangle is heating up. Can't wait for more. PPMS

                            Comment


                            • #15
                              Thanks! Enjoy the update!
                              ---------------------------------------------------------------

                              Lana woke up to find Bruce at her bedside, a very welcome site. The previous day had been rough, both physically and emotionally.

                              “Good morning,” Bruce smiled at her from where he was sitting, trying to be cheerful. He knew what was ahead of her today, he couldn’t keep it from her but he could try to give hear a nice beginning.

                              “Been here all night?” she asked, noticing his unshaven face and rather rumpled appearance, he certainly looked like he’d spent the night dozing in an uncomfortable chair.

                              “Not all night,” he brushed it off with a shrug. “How you feeling?”

                              “I’ve been better,” she sighed.

                              “I hope you’re hungry,” he said, reaching for her hand, “Alfred has made you a special breakfast.”

                              “That was thoughtful of him.” Truth was she didn’t have much of an appetite. Maybe she’d get away with pushing the food around the plate a bit, give the illusion of having eaten something.

                              “You had a visitor last night,” he told her, having decided that he wouldn’t keep it from her.

                              “Chloe?” she guessed, her spirits lifted at the thought of seeing her friend.

                              He shook his head, “Clark.”

                              “He was here…?” she tried to swallow the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat.

                              Bruce noticed the hitch in her voice and the way she looked over his shoulder, like she expected Clark to walk into the room. He didn’t like it. “Yeah, he was here. We spoke.”

                              She looked at him curiously, her head cocked to the side, “What did you speak about?”

                              “You,” he waited a beat, gauging her reaction before continuing. “Apparently he’d been assisting Emil with his research.”

                              “Why am I just hearing about this now?”

                              “I got the impression that he didn’t want you to know.”

                              Lana sighed. That did sound like vintage Clark Kent.

                              “He’s still in love with you,” Bruce told her and saw tears begin to well in her eyes, “just as you’re in love with him.”

                              “I’m sorry,” she whispered, unable to deny it, her pent up tears spilling onto her cheeks.

                              Gently he wiped away her tears with the pad of this thumb, “Don’t be sorry. I’ve known all along but I thought…” he shook his head at himself, “It doesn’t matter.”

                              “I never should have…” she started, feeling guilty for letting them get to this place. She’d known better than to let things get serious.

                              “Let‘s focus on getting you better,” he stopped her, not wanting to hear her say she regretted the time they’d spent together, “we’ll figure everything else out after that... Emil wants to talk to you about your options.”

                              “I have options?” She asked sarcastically. “Yesterday Emil didn’t say too much about options.” In fact Emil had painted a pretty gloomy picture for her after her MRI.

                              “He wants you to undergo the procedure he’s been working on as soon as possible.”

                              “I didn’t think it was ready,” she said, her brow wrinkled.

                              “It’s not. He believes he’s got the kinks worked out but he needs to do a few tests and get everything set up. He wants to do it in a week.”

                              “A week,” she repeated, a million different thoughts spinning through her head.

                              “Clark doesn’t think a week is long enough, he wants me to convince you to wait.”

                              “Wait for how long?”

                              “He didn’t say,” Bruce said with a shake of his head. After talking with Clark he’d gone to Emil for more details and now, he honestly didn’t know what to tell her. Part of him agreed with Clark, as much as he hated to admit that, but Emil’s argument to go ahead with the treatment was pretty compelling. “I think you need to listen to what Emil has to tell you before you make a decision.”



                              It was a couple of hours later before Emil pulled himself away from his work and came to visit with Lana. He began with a quick check of her vitals, making small chat, trying to put her at ease. Unfortunately, the light conversation couldn’t last, the very pressing issue of her health problems couldn’t be ignored.

                              Clearing his throat, an indication of the change to more serious matters, Emil got to the heart of the matter. “As I told you yesterday, your condition is progressing at a much faster rate than I anticipated. The year I originally gave you was a bit too generous.”

                              “So, how long are we talking, Emil?” Lana tried to make light of it, a fake smile plastered across her face. Truth was she was terrified of what he was going to tell her. After what Bruce had told her earlier, and the fact that he hadn’t left her side since then, she knew it was going to be bad, very bad.

                              “Two months, perhaps less,” he said, sympathetically. “However, with the degree of your advanced condition, you’ll most likely slip into a coma in two or three weeks time.”

                              By now she thought she was use to getting bad news. She already knew she was dying, she didn’t figure it could get much worse than that. Being told that she had mere weeks before slipping into darkness, however, hit her like a freight train.

                              Emil, not expecting a reply from Lana, gently continued on, “The procedure I’ve been working on is highly experimental, and to be completely honest with you, it’s an extreme risk. Normally I wouldn’t recommend gambling on an unproven treatment but time isn’t our side. I’d like for you to undergo the procedure next week, that way if it doesn’t work we could have a second shot at it.”

                              “What if she dies? There won‘t be a second shot,” Bruce said, voicing Clark’s, and now his, concern.

                              “It’s a definite possibility,” Emil conceded, “but with every day that passes her system will become weaker. I fear that the longer we wait the less likely it’ll be that you can survive it.”

                              “What exactly are you purposing to do to me, Emil?” Lana asked warily and Bruce’s hand suddenly covered hers.

                              “The procedure involves a massive electrical current and a specially ionized solution.”

                              “You’re going to electrocute me,” she said with a disbelieving shake of her head, “it would take a lot of power for it to have any affect on me.”

                              “Yes, a tremendous amount of power,” Emil agreed, deciding not to tell her exactly how much power he was speculating it would take. “The idea is to push the suit it’s limits, until it starts to crack, so to speak, allowing the solution you’ll be submerged in to do it‘s work. It’s specially formulated to attract the nano-particles that make up your suit.”

                              “That sounds simple enough,” she murmured to herself.

                              “There are factors I haven’t been able to accurately reproduce in my trial, like the Kryptonite or the length of time you’ve been exposed to the technology, but my main concern is finding the exact amount of electricity to use and the duration of the shock. If it’s not enough we can up the wattage but too much, for too long, could kill you. Which is why I want to run a few tests, find your threshold, get an idea where to start.”

                              “I need to digest all of this,” she told Emil. “Can I think it over for a little while before…”

                              “Yes, of course,” Emil nodded.

                              “Thank you,” she nodded in return and Emil quietly left the room.

                              She considered what Emil had said. More than the risks of his experimental procedure was knowing that she had only weeks of conscious life left. She wasn’t ready to die, there were things she wanted to do. Things she needed to say. Her thoughts continued to swirl downward until Bruce gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

                              She looked up and met his gaze.

                              “You okay?” he asked, sounding less than okay himself.

                              She gave her head a little shake, “I’m going to do it.”

                              “Lana,” Bruce started to protest but she didn’t let him get very far.

                              “Every second counts now. I’m not going to sit back and wait, I’m going to fight.”

                              “No one is suggesting you don’t fight this, but he’s throwing this together last minute,” he argued, he needed better assurances from the doctor before he could throw his support behind it.

                              “If you were me what would you do?” She asked.

                              His mouth opened, then shut again. She had him. He was a risk taker and would most definitely take the chance if in her situation. "It isn’t me we’re talking about,” he finally replied.

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