Work Text:
Lois doesn't think in metaphors and she doesn't spend a lot of time on self-analysis, but if she did, she'd think of herself as: the battery in the flashlight, the ink in the pen. The bullet in the barrel of the gun. Hidden, unseen, just part of the workings.
She's not a celebrity. She doesn't have a brand, a blog or a podcast, a signature style. She has a professional reputation; that's different. Lois Lane finds the story and tells it. She herself is not the story and she doesn't want to be. Some reporters want to be a big name. Lois never has. She wants the truth. She wants to stand inside it, like the filament glowing behind the thick glass lens at the top of a lighthouse. The best way to do that, sometimes, is-- and Clark understood this, knowledge deep as the marrow in his bones-- to be in the world but not of it. A ghost. A paradox. The more he wanted to reach out, the more he had to hide. It would have been easy to give up, to decide it wasn't worth it. He never did. Not till the day he died.
He would have been such a good goddamn reporter.
Lois tries not to think about it.
The world mourns Superman. They plaster his name and his symbol everywhere. It's a simple, easy story: an interplanetary refugee, trying to make his way in a strange world. No one looks further. Why bother with a complicated truth when a simple myth will do? Sometimes the fierce irony hits her like a blast from a wind tunnel and drives the tears from her eyes, sends them skidding across her face: the ones who loved him most get to mourn him least.
The world goes on. At least Lois has the work. There will always be lies, and there will always be the truth, and it will always need telling. Column inches in black and white, facts and figures. The secret strings that get pulled. The things people try to sweep under the rug. Lois digs like a badger. She wears the work like a suit of armor, grateful for the anonymity it gives her. The way it lets her hide. She thinks Perry can tell she's hurting worse than she admits, but he never goes easy on her. For that, she's grateful.
Lois was in a parking garage in Chicago meeting a contact when his phone rang-- blared, really. They both flinched, and he dropped the folder he'd been about to hand her. The papers fanned out, but didn't fly away. Lois crouched to scoop them inside her jacket, zipping it up quickly to hide the folder from view. He was fumbling with his phone--
"You brought a phone?" Lois glanced up, narrow-eyed.
"It was turned off!" he said defensively-- lying or wrong-- although the noise it was making sounded more like an emergency alert signal than a normal ringtone--
"Turn it off," Lois said, standing and grabbing it from him. The name of the incoming caller was displayed over the ringing phone icon: HAND THE PHONE TO LOIS LANE. She took a breath and answered.
"Ms. Lane," said a hoarse growling voice she'd only heard once, almost a year ago.
She pressed her lips together. Bruce Wayne. The man knew how she felt about him and the choices he'd made. If he was reaching out like this, it could only mean one thing. Maybe two; life or death. "Speaking."
"Someone got to Luthor's files," Wayne said. "All the records on him. And you. It's only dark web rumor for now. But soon you won't be safe on the streets."
Lois turned her back on her contact, taking a few steps away. Hunching forward, she lowered her voice. "His mother."
"I have people on it."
"People--" Lois protested.
"And I'm on my way," he said, and Lois belatedly interpreted the rush of background noise as-- what, jet engines?
"Get there fast," Lois said. She turned, stalking towards her car.
"Hey, my phone!"
"Get a new one," Lois snapped, not turning back, "And don't bring it to confidential meetings!" She didn't bother asking Wayne how he'd found her. Hacked the Planet's intranet to find her travel plans, then taken over every security camera in Chicago until facial recognition put him on her trail? She wouldn't put it past him. Although it did beg the question-- "You have guards on her. None on me?"
"I'm going to give you an address," he said. Lois reached for her GPS but it lit up already blinking with a destination on Lake Shore Drive. Lois was pretty sure she knew the area; an exclusive marina for oversized luxury yachts. She put her rental car into reverse and pulled out, glad for its tinted windows. Honestly, she thought, she wouldn't have wanted it the other way around: Martha in danger and Wayne rushing to rescue Lois. Condescending bastard. She could do without his type of help.
She kept telling herself that, right up until she was trapped on the boat, drifting slowly away from the dock, and the merc with the glowing red robotic eye leveled a gun at her head.
"We're going to take a little trip, Miss Lane," he said.
"Don't touch me!" Lois said, panting as she scrambled back, doing her best to make it look like panic instead of calculation. She could jump. Dive. The water would be fucking cold. Would he risk taking a shot? He wasn't coming after her for some kind of posthumous vengeance on Kryptonians in general. She was valuable alive. Not so much with a bullet in her head.
"Don't," he said sharply, and cocked the gun. A green laser dot appeared on Lois' left knee. She flinched back again. Would he go in after her, if she jumped? How would water affect those electronics plugged into his eye socket?
The gun was surprisingly quiet and being shot was surprisingly painless. For a moment. Then Lois yelped and staggered, pressing her hand to the inside of her left calf. He'd just winged her, a pointed warning. He took two swift steps forward. The red laser in his eye swept across her face.
She heard a thump, like something falling onto the deck. Then a crunch... and a weirdly familiar meaningful silence. Her eyes were blurry with tears. She looked up.
"You," she said.
"Lois," said Diana. She bent forward, lifting Lois easily into her arms. "Take a deep breath, then breathe out."
"It's okay," Lois said, and took a few fortifying breaths. "I've been tall enough to ride this ride for a while." She exhaled as Diana took them both up, into the air.
Diana took Lois to an apartment that she kept in Metropolis and dressed her wound. It wasn't serious. After that they kept moving. Lois laid down in the back seat of Diana's car with a blanket over her, the smooth rumble of movement alternately irritating and soothing. She'd never liked being driven around. She didn't like not knowing where she was going. Letting herself get distracted by the little things meant she could almost forget that her entire life was over. Unless Bruce could wipe those files from the internet. He couldn't. Could he? She clenched her hands into fists and tried not to think about it.
Diana laid in bed, eyes closed. Restless. She knew many strategies to quiet her mind, but tonight sleep eluded her. It had been several days since she had saved Lois' life, and they had kept on the move since then. Sometimes she reached out to Bruce and let him rent a house or book a suite. Sometimes she used her own resources. This was one of the latter times. Late last night they'd arrived at a remote vacation home deep in the woods, halfway up a mountain. Diana had left the car in the nearest town, and they'd traveled the last few miles by flying. While Lois had explored the cabin, running her fingers over the bookshelves and itemizing the contents of the pantry, Diana had gone out and pushed a few trees over, blocking the drive. They were as isolated as it was possible to be, and they could stop running. For a while.
She had been thinking, for the past few days, of inviting Lois back to Themyscira. Would the other woman see it as a cowardly retreat from the front ranks of battle? If so, she would never accept the offer. Perhaps she could appeal to Lois' curiosity, her hunger for hidden knowledge. A smile quirked her face as she lay on her back, eyes closed. To turn Lois loose on the Amazons and their secrets-- would it really be fair to the Amazons?
There was a knock at her door, quiet but not hesitant. Diana opened her eyes. The moon outside was high in the sky. She wondered if Lois had slept at all. Rising, she gently slid open the wooden panel door to her room. Lois was standing straight and tall in Diana's borrowed pajamas, a size too big for her. Her eyes were set into dark hollows that set off their brightness.
"Am I bothering you?"
"No, of course not," Diana said, offering half a smile. "Please, come in."
Lois moved past her into the room. Even in her current distracted state, even with the room half-dark, her eyes moved swiftly over the furnishings of the room. Diana could see her noting the arrangement of items on Diana's nightstand and her writing-desk, the sword mounted on the wall, the large four-poster bed.
Finally Lois turned to face her again. "Can I sleep in here with you tonight?"
"Of course," Diana said, trying to sound as if the question had not surprised her in the least. "Yes, I'd be glad to-- of course you can." It was common for friends to share their beds on Paradise Island. What better place and time to speak of secrets and dreams, to share intimate confessions with a dear companion?
"Thanks," Lois said as Diana closed her door. Moonlight made her pale complexion almost luminous. Tears glittered in her eyes but did not fall. Perhaps she'd come here to cry in Diana's arms.
"I don't know how much longer I can wait for Wayne to fix this. Or not," Lois said, framed in the arch of the doorway that led out to the balcony. "If he can't... I don't know what I'm going to do with my life. I've always gone face first into the wind. Towards the story. I can't be looking over my shoulder forever. Constantly watching my back."
Diana nodded. "I understand. All too well, I think." Lois turned away, nodding, wrapping her arms around herself. She was shaking, slightly, and Diana realized with a rush of sympathy that she must be quite cold. "Come to bed," she said, holding out her hand, and Lois twisted to look over her shoulder, eyes just a little wide. "To sleep," Diana clarified, and Lois just smiled a little, waving away the moment of awkwardness.
"It's fine," she said.
"Wonderful," Diana said. Of course if Lois wished to be held, kissed, touched, Diana would only be too glad to provide such warm companionship. But if Lois wished only sisterly comfort then Diana would hold herself to that. She slid into bed, keeping to one side, and raised the soft white cover to let Lois climb in.
"Oh, good. I like a firm mattress," Lois said, pushing her hair to one side so that she could rest her face on the pillow. She looked across at Diana, narrow mouth crooked with amusement. "Why is it that when you're in bed with someone, everything sounds suggestive?" She hissed a little, suddenly, as though struck by an arrow. "Oh..."
She was remembering time spent with her lover. Diana knew that look.
"Oh, darling," she said with a deep sigh. She reached out and put her arms around Lois, gently enfolding her, keeping her hands safely on Lois' shoulders and back. "I'm so sorry. I can't tell you how much."
While Diana had been hesitant, perhaps that had been a disservice. Lois moved close almost immediately, wrapping her arm around Diana's waist and leaning her head on Diana's shoulder. Diana tilted her head back a bit to make room. Reaching up, she petted Lois' hair gently, brushing it out of her face.
"Tell me how I can help," she said, and Lois began to weep, her whole body shaking with it. It was some time before her sobs eased. Diana could almost feel her tense in the moment when she realized how close they were.
She pulled back, wiping at her face, knuckling tears out of her eyes, then reached out hesitantly to brush over Diana's shoulder. "God, I cried all over you."
"It's nothing to be ashamed of."
"Easy for you to say," Lois said.
"I have... different issues," Diana said. "But no, I wasn't raised to believe my emotions were weak or shameful, if that's what you mean."
"Must be nice," Lois said, turning to flop over on her back. Diana's arm was trapped under her neck, but Lois didn't seem to mind. After a moment, she glanced over. "Can I kiss you? I-- I don't know if-- I assume, but-- Sorry, I talk when I'm nervous--"
Diana leaned forward, sliding her fingers into Lois' hair, and brought their mouths together, as gently as she knew how.
Diana accepted Lois' kiss eagerly, fingers tightening ever so slightly as she pulled her in. This close, it was probably obvious that Lois couldn't stop shaking. She could have blamed adrenaline, the cold-- or she *could* have moved back. But she didn't want to.
"Do you want me to distract you?" Diana murmured in her ear. "You're very beautiful. I wouldn't mind in the least."
"Please," Lois said. She hated the vulnerability in her own voice, but Diana just kissed her more deeply, moving forward so that her knee pressed gently between Lois' legs. "I'm not at my best, but--"
"Nonsense," Diana said, and Lois shivered again. Her heartbeat was speeding. Forget being cold-- she was going to sweat through Diana's silk pajamas. "I saw you face down that man on the boat. I saw what you did in the battle against Doomsday. You are a warrior, Lois." She took a breath. "But even a warrior must take off her armor, sometimes."
"Touch me," Lois begged, and Diana touched her. Lois had felt so numb over this past year. Maybe she'd just been waiting for the day it would all end for her, too. When the darkness would fall over her and every trick would fail, and in the end, no one would come. Now she was starting to feel like she'd just come in from the cold. From a cold so deep she'd forgotten how to shiver.
It had been so cold the night she met Clark. Sometimes she felt like she'd never gotten warm, after that night. For a day or two she had been afraid of who he was, what he might do, frozen in anticipation. Then-- they'd had one conversation in Smallville, and something in her flipped like a switch. After that she never stopped being afraid *for* him.
"Hold my hand, this is going to hurt," she murmured under her breath, then looked up into Diana's luminous dark eyes. "That's one of the first things Clark ever said to me."
Diana nodded. Leaning forward, she pulled Lois back into her arms. Lois shuddered harder, but Diana seemed to know what she needed, holding her even tighter. "You're safe here. No matter how long it takes. I'll watch your back for you, Lois."
Lois reached out. She held on. "I know."